V3.2

The First Meeting

The bugle sounded and I rolled my eyes, stuffing my face into my pillow. "Oh, why…" I groaned in frustration, my back stiff from lifting all of the pieces of metal for the women's barrack.

It was five o'clock in the morning, same as always, but because we were up until midnight putting together the barracks—without magic—we were all tired and groaning into our pillows.

"Get up," I mumbled to a girl named Allison in the bunk next to me. We ran together on occasion. I threw a pillow at her and she groaned.

"I don't want to…"

"If you don't get up and get your bunk in tip-top shape, I'm going to make you hurt so bad that you can't get up." It was a bold-faced lie, but then again, she couldn't see my face. It was my job to get them up and ready for the day, which I couldn't even make myself do.

Allison, as well as the other twenty girls in my barrack, groaned and moved to get up, quickly making their beds. They all grabbed their dress uniforms, and I called, "We're not dressing in Class A's just yet, girls. Get in your PT. The General has a training session."

"What?" someone asked incredulously, making the other girls question my authority.

I shook my head, climbing up my bunk ladder to see them all. "Not my orders. First Lieutenant McCurdy and I heard it directly from the General last night when all of you were already in bed. Get dressed. Today will be a long day."

Viktor Krum

Viktor had vaguely heard a trumpet some time that morning, but had still been in bed and wasn't about to get up that early in the morning when he'd been partying so late the night before. Hours later, when he had gotten up, he looked outside to see that the American Academy was already up, doing…drills? The other trumpet had been much earlier. How long have they been up?

He looked through his large window, watching with interest now. He could see that many things had happened during the night. First, there was another boat at the other side of the lake, as well as a dock. It looked to be something that should have been in World War I, not in the 1990's. Then, there was a large wooden lodge somewhere over by the woods. What Viktor thought was an aircraft carrier was positioned near the outskirts of the fields, and lastly there were two large barracks—if that's what they were, it was what they looked like—that stood side-by-side with a large training facility in between.

It had rope climbs, rock walls, nets, barbed wire, the works. Viktor had never seen such things. Then again, they were Americans. He had never met people who talked so fast. They were all very well-spoken, though, if the Marines not a little rowdy. They all had slightly different English accents, pronouncing things differently, confusing many of the Bulgarian- and Russian-speaking Durmstrang students.

He did have to say, though, it looked like they were training hard. Even the women, who should not have done anything, were out there running, swimming, and even dueling with the others. Some had their wands out and were practicing combat moves, others practicing defense. It was strange to see the "co-ed" schools working together. Hogwarts was one, but at least they were traditional. AAM was like nothing anyone from Durmstrang had seen. Especially since women weren't allowed.

Today their outfits were all different, most of them with black, silky-looking shorts, and some with a lighter grey. Some were wearing grey shirts with the word ARMY printed across the front, others with plain grey shirts, others with black, others with tan.

"What are you looking at?" Ivann, one of his better friends, asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had fallen asleep in the chair in the corner of the room by the fireplace and was irritably rubbing the kinks out of his back.

"The Ameericeens."

"They are strange." Ivann yawned again and stood up, stretching. He then grabbed his robes for another day. "All of them are."

"They do not live like we do. What time do you think they got up?"

"What do you mean?"

Viktor moved out of the way and gestured out to the Americans. "Look for yourself."

Ivann, his hair mussed, his eyes bloodshot from vodka, pushed back his hair and stumbled over to the window. "They're going through exercises? The women too?"

"The women over there have more freedom then back at home."

"It's…not that I have a problem with it, it's just that…"

"Their women have commanding positions. Did you see the one? The…ah… Leahn Neelsoon. She was in charge."

"And there wasn't a single toe out of line," Ivann said with a snort of dry humor. "I was prepared for barbarians, but not this."

"The woman has earned her position, and so have her comrades. We will treat them with respect."

"Hmm...sure, sure. Look at them go!"

Viktor shook his head and turned his eyes towards the barracks—he had located the woman and had been watching her as she stopped and took a water break. She was talking to a man, pointing out somewhere in the training field. She then took out her wand, magically mending a small fixture. She looked angry, threateningly pointing her wand at him, then the ground.

The man then fell to the floor, doing push-ups.

He did have to say that she was not as the rest of them. Perhaps she was five foot nine, whereas most of them were short. She was well-curved in a way that Viktor found strangely attractive. She had an hourglass figure and yet he didn't think that he could wrap his hands around her waist. She was not the kind of woman he was normally attracted to.

And yet her smile, when he had looked at her after her routine had been done, had turned something inside of him. She was beautiful, even though she wasn't thin. Her eyes were hazel, surrounded by long, dark lashes. Her lips were thick, the upper one smaller, the lower one full and enticing. And he had remembered a spark in those yellow eyes whenever she had finished with her routine.

"When are you putting your name into the Goblet?" Ivann asked, trying to fix his uniform. It was wrinkled, meaning that if Karkaroff saw it, he would be punished into menial labor.

Not that it would be a first. Viktor had to shake his head to get it thinking straight. "After breakfast. And you?"

"Before lunch some time. Though I am sure everyone will want to see you putting your name in. How about all of those girls?"

"If you want them, be my guest. Take them." Mostly, they were girls who looked at him and instantly wanted his money. Not that he hadn't already taken his pleasure with one—she'd been quite beautiful, even if he couldn't remember her name. To tell the truth, he was tired of nameless women. "Take them all!"

"If only," Ivann said with a shrug, moving towards the door. "They wouldn't see me through you."

"I'm sick of the simpering girls. I want a woman."

"Let's just take this one step at a time." Ivan then opened the door and stepped out. "You coming?"

Viktor took one more look outside, seeing that the women were now all down in a large square, three feet apart, doing push-ups. He saw Leigh Ann's long brown hair in a bun, moving up and down with the others. It was interesting to see a woman who had the strength to do such things, with the body of one who caught his eye. He decided something at that moment: when he saw something he wanted, he got it.

"…Of course."

And he wanted it.

Leigh Ann Nelson

"Alright, you maggots," Major Jason Nelson, my brother, growled, though I knew that he wasn't serious, "it's time for showers, then breakfast. Meet back here at ten hundred hours for combative trainin'."

I rolled my eyes, then looked at him. Really, he looked more like our father. I looked more like a mixture of both of our parents. He had our grandfather's blue eyes, our father's black hair, and the Nelson family's strong chin, wide nose, and pretty eyes and eyelashes. He was tall, like the rest of us, even though our father was the midget of the family.

I on the other hand had brown hair from somewhere, plain hazel eyes, the stubborn chin of my mother's, and the oval-shaped face of hers as well.

Lisa Moore, the Lieutenant Colonel of the Ninth Year, said, "And be sure that your name is put into the Goblet before lunch time. I don't care when or how, just make sure it happens." The Eigth and Ninth Year Officers had been able to come with us, but not the students, and they couldn't put their names in the Goblet. They were just there for morale support.

I got up from the ground after the three hours of physical training, every muscle in my back screaming in protest. "Are we allowed to wear our Class B's?" I asked sarcastically, feeling like I would fall apart.

"Get to your bunk, Second Lieutenant," Lisa said wryly, shooing me away.

"I guess that's a no," I whispered to my brother, who laughed for a moment, then turned serious.

"Get to breakfast before I'm forced to discipline you." He said this mockingly, as if he would dare to do it. "Think how much of an example you'd be setting, Second Lieutenant." He snorted, as if it were funny, messing with the hair tie around my wrist like he always did. Normally he broke it, so I took it off and gave it to him.

"Lets see you try, old man," I said back, sticking my tongue out at him.

He threw my hair tie back at me and shooed me off. I hurried off to the showers, getting rid of the three layers of dirt, mud, sweat, and some blood, and then quickly got out as the water was running cold.

Toweling and changing into my Class A's, I grabbed the slip of paper that had my name on it and quickly ran up towards the grand castle, wishing that my best friend was there by my side. She would have loved the look of the place, and all of the foreign accents. She'd gotten in trouble before time to leave, though, and her parent's wouldn't have let her come anyway.

I rolled my eyes and pushed open the front doors, seeing the grand Goblet of Fire standing in front of me. I took a deep breath, straightened my beret, and walked purposefully up towards the cup, hoping not to trip over my own feet.

"Hey, Leigh Ann!" came a voice, and I turned to see a boy from the Marines giving me a sly grin from across the room. He was surrounded by a few of the other cocky bastards. "You comin' with us, later, babe? We're goin' for a swim, and would love to see you in that pretty little swimsuit of yours." None of them had ever seen me in my swimsuit and they knew that I couldn't stand wearing one.

"You don't have a snowball's chance in Hell, Leroy Jenkins, not now, not ever. Don't let the other Officers hear that harassment."

"They don't scare me."

"No, but I should," came a voice, and I turned around to see my brother behind me, a look of murder on his face. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder protectively. "Anna is an Officer now, Jenkins, but Officer or no, if I hear that kind of sexual harassment one more time, you'll be out of here before you can say 'air, land, and sea.'"

Roy's pallid face paled even more considerably that it already was. "Y-yes, sir." Then he quickly scurried off.

"Thanks, Jason," I said, shrugging his hand off. "Now my mojo's off." I'd never been quite so nervous before. It was just putting a piece of paper in a burning cup, what was so scary about that?

He frowned. "I was just trying to help, kid."

"I can handle myself. Now…don't you have drills to run or something?" I mumbled, looking off into the distance to see that the entire Durmstrang lot was coming in the doors from the Great Hall.

One by one, they all put their names in, until finally, at the end of the line, there was someone my brother instantly gaped at. "Anna—look—its Viktor Krum!" he whispered frantically, shaking me roughly.

I glared at him for messing up my beret, taking it off and quickly putting it back on before Lisa Moore or any other Sixth or Seventh Year Officer could see me. "So? What about him?" I hadn't even looked. I can never get away from Quidditch, can I?

"He's the Seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team," Jason said in awe, still shaking me subtly.

I shook his arms off of me and glared at the piece of paper in my hands. "Good for him."

"Blimey, right here in front of me…"

"Not two days and you're already speakin' like them," I said, rolling my eyes. He'd already lost his soft South Carolinian drawl and I felt like I was too. "And anyway, he's just a regular person. I doubt he wants to be treated like some superstar."

"Well then, go on," Jason said, nudging me forwards.

"What?"

"Put your name in the Goblet. It's your turn, kid, we don't have all day."

I slapped his hand away. Merlin, Jason, I'm not a little girl. You don't have to tell me what to do! I said all of this inside my head, of course. "I already told you, my mojo is ruined! I'll have to wait."

"You're just nervous because the Durmstrang students went, admit it!"

I rolled my eyes. "Just to prove it to you, I'll put my name in right now."

Turning on my heel, I walked with dignity over to the cup, past the age line, and threw my name into the fire. It sparkled blue for a moment before turning red and disappearing.

"Happy?" I asked my brother, and he clapped, as well as a few other people. Some cried my name, or HOOAH!

I just curtsied for them as well as I could in my Class A skirt, then walked away from the cup, feeling as though a cool air ran over me. I told Jason to go on to lunch without me. Many of the other students who'd been in the hall went on as well. I just looked up to the cup and prayed. I can do this. This is my chance to prove myself. I'm not my mother, I'm not my brother. I'm not some Quidditch prodigy.

A cold wind came through, buffeting me. I shivered and ran hands over my sore, aching arms.

"Are you alright?" came a deep voice that rolled its 'R's'. I turned, and the first thing I noticed, like I did on every other man, was the handsomeness of his dark brown eyes, like melting in chocolate. And his voice—tenor, yet base. I couldn't tell.

The second thing I noticed was his height—if a man wasn't taller than my five foot eight and a half, something was wrong. Well, this man passed my expectations by a mile there, perhaps six inches above me or more.

Third, I noticed the smile. And since he wasn't smiling, I couldn't tell how it was, but he did have very nice lips, surrounded by dark stubble above and below. He had rather light, clear skin that looked as if it could tan but hadn't, with a slightly large nose that looked as if it had been broken quite a few times. His eyebrows were thick but shaped well, making his eyes very penetrating. With buzz cut black hair, he could have worked with my father.

The outfit might have been a little out of place if he worked with my dad, though. Underneath all of the cloaks I had seen last night, there were blood red, long-sleeved, high-collared shirts that stopped right below the hips. There was a belt that wrapped around the waist, an eagle engraved onto it, with maroon pants below and large black boots that reminded me of Basic.

I had to shake my head to stop myself from staring down where his belt was. "Ah…excuse me?" I asked, feeling a little flustered.

"You are een pain?" the man said, his eyes boring straight into me. I hadn't seen such beautiful eyes in a long time.

"Nah, I'm just a little cold," I lied softly, trying to tell myself that this man did not affect me.

He didn't say anything as he took the fur coat from his shoulders, holding it out to me.

"I couldn't," I said, shaking my hands at his offer.

He only kept holding it out. His eyes told me that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

I stared at the warm-looking cloak, then shook my head. "Chivalry, at its best," I said, snorting in laughter. He looked confused. Well, it was funny to me… "Ah, never mind. I'm Leigh Ann." I said this as I took the cloak from his hand, enclosing it over my back. It covered me completely, drowning me. It had been a while since something had been bigger than me. My head was a small speck out from the top. And it smelled like him. Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a dark, musky smell, like pines? And snow.

Yeah, snow.

"Yes," he said pointedly, looking at me with curiosity. He held out his arm and motioned for me to start waking.

"Sure thing," I said, feeling slightly curious. A man of few words. First of all, why was this handsome man even talking to me, let alone asking me for a walk? Second of all, who was he? And thirdly…mmh, he smells good. I was always attracted to a man who smelled good.

We started walking out into the chilly October air, soon to be November, and I felt warm and cozy.

"Are you sure you don't need this?" I asked, suddenly feeling very selfish.

"No," he said, a small smirkon his face. And wow, what a difference that smile was. It made his eyes twinkle, with small crinkles appearing on the sides. "Not cold to me."

"This is much colder than where I live, so I can't even imagine Bulgaria. Then again, we don't get much snow, either." I wished that I had one of those fur coats to keep. It was really nice, actually, not that I'd need it much.

"Vhere do you leeve een Amereeca?"

I wanted to laugh at how funny he sounded saying 'America,' but it would have been rude, and I really did like his voice, even his accent. "South Carolina. It's by the sea, and it's wonderfully warm."

"I half never seen warm." He struggled to say the words.

I assumed he meant that he'd never been somewhere like South Carolina. I tried to make it appear as though it were fine. "So you've never been out of the country until now?"

"With Quidditch, da. You play the Quidditch?"

He must not have noticed that I tensed up. Of course he's a Quidditch player. He has the perfect form for a Seeker. "I don't play or fly. I can recite all seven-hundred fouls by heart, and know every defensive maneuver there is. Almost all offensive. Do you play for a team in Russia…or Bulgaria…or wherever you live?" I was now officially babbling, but the view was good and he was good company, even if he was a Quidditch player.

He had a large smile on his face. "Bulgaria."

"Ah." I smirked, then, thinking about the World Cup that had just happened. I hadn't wanted to watch, but my mother made me. She was always trying to get me interested in the sport. I was interested, but not to play and not to meet men. "Sorry to say that I was rooting for the Irish National Quidditch League. I heard that Bulgaria did well, though. Did you go to the World Cup?"

He looked a little confused, though slowly said, "…Da—yes. But…you not fly?" When I shook my head, he looked as though he wanted me to elaborate.

"When I was little…I fell off of a broom. I was a Chaser on the local Junior Pro team. I guess I just never thought of getting back on again."

He gave a grunt of understanding, and then we were in a comfortable silence for a few moments. I knew that he wanted something, though, so I went ahead and started asking it.

"So…" I said, looking up at the clear blue sky, then over to him for a second before darting away. "Is this just a friendly walk or do you have something on your mind, stranger?"

He shrugged, smirked coyly in a way that I wished wasn't used on other girls. If he was a player then he was a player. That was the rule, anyway. "You are different," he said, his eyes meeting mine for just a moment.

I looked off towards the water where the World War I warship was docked. "Different?"

"Only voman," he said as he mimicked the marching from the day before.

I realized that he meant that I was the only woman to lead the four groups. "Right. I'm an Officer. I'm a higher rank than the others. They asked me to lead the Army and I did. It was an honor." I felt a small tingling in the bottom of my stomach, as if something were fluttering around.

I still didn't know his name—he was stalling.

"So, am I just not goin' to get to know your name or are we goin' to play some kind of game?" Hah, that rhymed…wait, you've got a hot guy next to you and you're thinking about rhymes?

He hesitated for a moment—I could see it in his eyes, as everything passed through there with him, it seemed. "A…game."

"We'll see each other, and I'll try to figure it out," I said, wriggling my eyebrows. "But you've got to give me hints!"

He looked confused, as if thinking, "These Americans…" "Yes."

"Okay, so, give me a hint! Is it a normal Bulgarian name? Or is it something you just don't want me to know?"

"Bulgarian."

"Ah…Erik! You know, with a 'K'."

He smirked, shaking his head. "He—ah, no"

Butterflies started fluttering in my stomach again when he directed that smirk at me. "Yeah, I guess you don't look like an Erik. Does it have a 'K' in it?"

It took him a moment to think about the English language. "Da—ah, yes."

"Ah…that makes it a little easier. Well, I'll think about it as we walk on." I burrowed down into the coat that smelled like him, and kept on walking beside him.

"What is Officer?" he asked in pretty good English.

I gave him a smile in praise. "A leader. I'm glad you seemed to like our presentation. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to...well, do something that wouldn't have been very impressive to see." Throw up.

"It vas good." For a moment, there was another compatible silence. Then he looked down at me and stopped our walk. He seemed serious all of a sudden. "Vhat eef I am here for eenformatoon?"

I'd wondered that as well. "I don't think you are." I hope you aren't.

"Vhy?"

I smiled softly and instantly said, "Your eyes."

"Vhat?"

I instantly felt slightly idiotic for saying that. Damn, think before you speak, Nelson! "Y-your eyes! They're the kind that can't tell a lie." Actually, they were the kind that I was melting into. "And, I figured that if you tried anything, I could take you on. Besides, you've only asked questions about me, Krasimir."

"No."

"Well, I tried. And anyways, like I was saying, you haven't asked a single question about my school, or about how we're taught. Your eyes are friendly. And when you smile, it reaches your eyes. I know those aren't a lot of things to go on, but its what I've lived by so far, so I'm hoping it doesn't let me down now."

He smiled gently, softly saying, "You aredeeferent, Leahn."

"You've said that already, Zhivko."

"He."

"Augh! Alright. Ah—I guess…we're back at my bunk." I looked up over the metal half-circle, feeling slightly depressed. That had been a very...different walk. My company had been wonderful, not counting that he'd been extremely gorgeous, even though the language barrier had gotten in the way a little.

The stranger parted the front of the coat, letting in a cold draft. I gasped as he grasped my right hand, leaning down and putting his hot and rough lips upon my knuckles, over my silver Army class ring. He looked up from his bow with his dark brown eyes and said quietly, "I vill see you tonight?"

"Yes," I said, feeling my heart flutter. Damn your chivalry!

He stood up from his bow, still holding my hand. "After dinner?"

"Would you like to come to our celebration? Its going to be for whomever becomes the Champion from our school." No, no, no, I shouldn't be doing this!

"Ve half same." He smiled, and I felt faint.

"Well, how about we see what happens, Kiril."

He smiled even wider, making little crinkles appear in the corners of his beautiful chocolate eyes. "He."

I shrugged. "A girl can try." Then, I squeezed his hand and backed up slowly. "I'll…see you after dinner."

"I vill look to it." He bowed once more, then turned on his heel and walked away.

"Wait!" I cried, shucking off his coat. "Don't you want your—"

"Yours," he said, his voice carrying across the snow-covered ground. "I vill see again, da?"

I smiled and relaxed, walking backwards, hugging the coat to my body. "Yeah. Yeah, you will."

"Hey," said Lisa Moore said, walking by with a clipboard. She looked a little smug as she watched the back of the strong man leaving and looked at the fur coat in my arms. "Breakfast over?"

I sighed dreamily. "Nope."

"Did you even eat?"

"You know, for once, I don't think I'm hungry."

And, it was true. For one of the first times in my life that I could remember, I wasn't hungry at all.

Well, are you happy about their first encounter? It doesn't stay all crush/puppy love for long. Nope, Leigh Ann has this pet peeve, and it has something to do with males and Quidditch…

Note 1: "ACU" is "Army Combat Uniform," although it is used after April 2005. (This kind is the new "digital" uniform.) As we are in the 90's in this fic, the army uses the "BDU," which stands for "Battle Dress Uniform." It is the camouflage green and brown and black hunting gear that most people think of when they think "Army Uniform."

Note 2: "Class A" and "Class B" refer to the Army Service Uniform. The Class A ASU was worn when the students walked in during the last chapter. The Class B ASU is what Leigh Ann jokes about wearing. It is the Class A, except without the jacket. Almost all ribbons and medals are retained.