Welcome to another installation of The Academy! This chapter deals with some more details, I'm sorry, I'm a very detailed person. Notes are, again, at the end. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me personally, or leave a review. Both are appreciated!

V2.2

The American Academy of Magic's Branches of Military

October 9, 1994

"Harry—it's Krum!" Ron squealed, watching the man's every step. He didn't seem to notice the rest of the Durmstrang delegation as they followed afterwards, nor the large, brooding man beside the famous Seeker. "I don't believe it! Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione scoffed as she rolled her eyes at her red-haired friend. She knew for a fact that the large, brooding man was Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang. There were some rumors about entanglement with the Dark Lord and interest in the Dark Arts, but then again, they were only rumors.

"Only a Quidditch player? Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still in school."

"Oh," said one girl as they were walking into the great hall with the twins and Lee Jordan, "I don't believe it, I don't have a single quill on me—"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really," Hermione scoffed as they sat down. The girls gave her scathing looks and trudged on. What was the big deal? Really, he was only a man who played a sport. Now, if he were Terry Venables, she would understand. That man was a genius! She wouldn't be surprised if he was coach for England's football team in the next year or two.

"I'm getting his autograph if I can." Ron looked to Harry. "D'you have a quill on you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag."

Hermione was, for once, grateful that Harry had forgotten something for class. As if Ron needed another reason to moon over Quidditch!

They walked through the familiar halls, pulling Ron away as they went. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table was normal, but the excited buzz around the room was not, nor was the panting Ron. Everyone was waiting for Dumbledore to quit chatting and stand up and announce the arrivals already!

They all looked over to the front of the room, finally, where Dumbledore was standing when he suddenly announced, "Please welcome our friends from Beauxbatons!" and instantly the doors opened and the Beauxbatons came in, doing some sort of strange dance. Hermione noticed that Harry and Ron were strangely entranced by one of the women towards the back, standing next to a very large woman. Not large as in wide, but large as in tall. The other woman was pretty, if you liked the tall, thin, blonde-haired blue-eyed type. Apparently the boys did.

All of the women were wearing thin blue silk dresses, covered in a blue silk shawls, and finished with blue silk hats adorning their heads. Dainty white gloves were on their hands.

The all-female school sat themselves at the Ravenclaw table, but only after entrancing most of the male student body.

Ron, quickly shaking his head to get rid of the apparent pheromones in the air, watched intently when Dumbledore announced, "And give a warm greeting to our friends from the North, from the Durmstrang Institute!" who then came marching in and pounding their staffs on the ground in a strangely intimidating manner.

Some of them went forwards, blowing out fire eagles in the form of what looked to be Fiendfyre. Hermione frowned—she had heard that Durmstrang was a Dark Arts school, but to use cursed fire?

Many of the girls were swooning at the tall, handsome men. Even some of the boys were, though it was probably towards Viktor Krum instead of the men. One could wonder, though…

"And," Dumbledore said mysteriously, as the Tournament was only supposed to have two other schools besides Hogwarts performing, "there was a last-minute exception to join the Triwizard Tournament. So technically, wouldn't be the Quadwizard Tournament?" he mused to himself, chuckling, though he quickly sobered. "Greet your brethren from overseas, the American Academy of Magic!"

There was a unanimous gasp throughout the room as a bugle was sounded. The Americans have never come to Hogwarts! A very large man pushed through the doors, walking forwards, up towards the podium. He seemed too young to be a Headmaster.

"Where'd he come from?" Ron asked in a whisper, leaning over.

Hermione shrugged, but thought that she had seen some kind of flying object in the sky sometime during the early morning. That was strange.

And his clothes…very strange, indeed.

He was wearing a long-sleeved, midnight blue coat with a standing collar and belt that was also midnight blue, with a gold M-buckle. He was wearing a white cap that Hermione had seen before, in military Muggle moves. Underneath the coat, he was wearing a plain white shirt, and below it, sky blue trousers. There were also white gloves, and black dress shoes and socks. Full-size medals were on his left chest, with ribbon-only awards on the right. He looked to be wearing a sheath of some kind, holding a…a sword? Everything was very formfitting.

The man quickly explained who he was once he got up there, in a very booming voice. "I am Second Lieutenant Leo Langston of the American Academy of Magic's Branch of the Military, the Marines. We are, will be, and always have been the first into any scenario. Our Branch, our school, prides itself on discipline, respect, punctuality, and survival. The Marine Corps fulfills a vital role in national security as an amphibious, expeditionary, air-ground combined arms task force, capable of forcible entry from the air, land and sea."

Suddenly a large, "OORAH!" filled the room, and everyone turned around to see a group of about forty men and maybe ten women emerging. Hermione noticed that five of the women wore pants, like the men, and that the other fivehad opted to wearing a skirt, hose, and black pumps. Another strange thing was that, where the "Second Lieutenant" had had all midnight blue coloring, the others besides six or seven had red piping along edges. Also, the belts on the others was white, without the buckle.

For some reason, half of the delegation seemed…lifeless…

"From the halls of Montezuma!" Leo Langston cried, his arms behind his back as he studied the men on the other side of the hall.

"To the shores of Tripoli!" the formation cried back, taking a large, pounding step forwards.

"We fight our country's battles in the air, on land and sea."

After this last line, the entire formation cried OORAH! again, and started marching in time to a slightly familiar tune played on a single trumpet, accompanied by one drummer. Something from a movie back home, she thought, trying to remember what it was.

The formation was at the front of the room now, and the Second Lieutenant instantly cried, "Men!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Hermione felt a slight amount of annoyance at the man calling all of them "men" even though some of them were women. "Who are we?"

"United States Marines. The American Academy of Magic's Marine Corps. Branch, Sir!"

"And what is our Creed?"

"This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will…

"My rifle and myself know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...

"My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my heart against damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...

"Before God, I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but peace!"

"And where are your rifles, soldiers?" the man demanded, waving his hand in mid-air. A bright flash of blue and grey appeared, and a long black rifle was instantly in his hands. "I have mine. Where are yours?"

Suddenly wands were drawn from under the sleeves of half of the students, and pointed directly at the person next to them who didn't have wands. There was a sudden explosion of blue light, shooting skywards from a person at the end of the row.

"Here is my rifle, SIR!"

People stared in awe as the next student waved their wand, and the lifeless person next to them exploded in a blast of grey. "My rifle is human, SIR!" she cried, her steely grey eyes flashing as she grasped the barrel and held it in front of her, diagonally.

This happened, over and over again, until only twenty men and five women were left. The last man exploded his lifeless counterpart, grabbed the rifle that appeared, and cried, "My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country, SIR!"

"WE ARE PROUD TO SERVE OUR COUNTRY AS UNITED STATES MARINES!" they all cried at once, and all went silent.

"What magic!" Hermione cried after everyone had started clapping. "I…I've never heard of transfiguring an object into a person! It's unthinkable!"

"They're like robots," Ron whispered, his mouth agape as he stared at the small formation as it made its way to the side.

"Is that supposed to be the point?" Ginny asked, squinting her eyes as the men and few women moved to stand at the side, making room for what seemed to be many, many more people. "I'm not exactly sure."

Suddenly the back doors were blown open, causing the entire hall to go silent. There was a curvy woman standing in the doorway. "Company!" she cried, not turning around to the group of people who suddenly behind her in bursts of smoke, with many loud POP! noises. "Atten… HUT!"

There was a unanimous sound of feet moving together, perfectly in sync. All of these people were wearing very different uniforms than to the "Marines", again, something that Hermione had seen in many different military movies. Most of the women were wearing what looked to be black skirts that went to right below their knees, with plain black one-inch pumps on their feet and skin-colored hose up their legs. Underneath a very ornately-decorated black four-button jacket was a white-collared shirt and tie, neatly bound. Almost all of the students were wearing strange-looking hats that Hermione knew to be berets.

The men and some of the women were wearing strangely blue pants, with shiny black shoes. The men were wearing bow-ties instead of the regular tie, maybe signaling a difference? Hermione didn't know.

There were about fifty of them over all, though, making the count around seventy-five so far.

Everyone had different badges, ribbons, and insignias all over them. The woman in front, who had called out to the rest of the students, had the most ribbons on the right side of her chest, with many pins on the left around her name tag. Hermione couldn't read it from so far back. A few men and women behind her seemed to have more ribbons, though, and some had different insignias on their shoulders and arms.

"Company…fall in!"

All of the people instantly went into a square formation, perfectly in line.

"Present…arms!"

Suddenly rifles appeared out of thin air, dropping into each person's arms. Everyone caught them in sync, holding them out diagonally in front of them, not moving.

"Forward…MARCH!" The woman then started off on her left foot, moving forwards. Everyone followed her, the marching making a loud, continuous rhythm throughout the room. "Right shoulder, ARMS." The guns were instantly put onto the person's right shoulder, and nothing was out of rhythm. "Close, MARCH!" The formation narrowed. "Counter-column, MARCH!"

The entire formation reversed direction while marching. The columns neatly turned in on themselves and at the end of the movement, the entire marching column had reversed direction.

"Extend, MARCH!" she cried, and the formation moved outwards. "Mark time…MARCH!" The entire delegation stopped moving forwards, though they were still marching. "To the rear, MARCH!"

They turned around again, still in formation somehow. The woman then stood up taller, moving towards the front of the room with purpose. She turned around when she reached the podium.

"I am Second Lieutenant Leigh Ann Nelson of the American Academy of Magic's Branch of Military, the Army. I am an American Soldier, an Army Soldier, and we have a creed. We are Warriors and members of a team. We serve the people of the United States, and live the Army Values. We will always place the mission first. We will never accept defeat. We will never quit. We will never leave a fallen comrade.

"We are disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. We always maintain our arms, our equipment, and ourselves. We are experts and we are a professionals. We stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy, the enemies of the United States of America in close combat. We are guardians of freedom and the American way of life. We are American Soldiers.

"May I present the Army Branch, Years Fifth through Seventh, and the Army Drill Team," she said calmly and clearly, her accent slightly strange, Hermione noticed, from listening to her speech. Compared to Leo's, this woman's speech patter was softer, slower, though could get icy with the narrowing of her eyes. "Cadence, SOUND!"

In an instant, drums appeared in a burst of bright gold light, dropping into the hands of two men in the front row. Where their guns had gone, Hermione didn't know. They started playing a beat that was vaguely familiar to her.

"Drill…ONWARD!"

A set of twenty or so students moved forwards, moving to stand in front of the woman on the podium. They kept beat with the drums, and when they were turned around, suddenly started spinning their guns in unison. Their movements were full of turns, twists, and throwing, entrancing their audience.

Though, as this was going on, the rest of the group was singing something along the lines of Then it's Hi! Hi! Hey!, the Army's on its way… It was rather catchy, if she did say so herself.

With a last HOOAH!, the gunmen stopped their performance. The woman at the front instantly cried, "Forward, MARCH!" The rest of the students moved forwards, joining the ranks of the others. "Company…HALT!" All marching stopped. "Gunman…in position."

In an instant, the front row of performers (all wearing pants,) bent down on one knee, aiming their guns up into the air. "Gunman…FIRE!" Showers of bullets rained into the air, making the audience scream in fright.

But all that happened was a vast shower of gold, grey, and black fireworks, forming different formations in the sky. The last formation appearing was that of a gold star, with the words ARMY OF ONE underneath.

"Parade, REST." The gunman put the gun's butt on the floor by their foot, extending their arm. The other arm went behind them as their feet spread out shoulder-width.

And then all was silent.

At least, until the thunderous applause sounded. The woman at the podium looked relieved instead of pleased, and she let out a breath of air she appeared to have been holding. Silently, she moved her team to the side, next to the Marines, still leaving room.

Suddenly a soft hum came around, and the applause slowly died. Every candle in the enchanted sky blew out, and some people screamed. Everyone looked around to find the source of the humming, but found none. It was slightly… angelic. She could have seen the Hogwarts choir singing that song. Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave…

Suddenly someone interrupted the beautiful music with a scream of, "THEY'RE IN THE FLOOR!" Hermione looked down to see that, yes, students were rising from the ground as if it were water, though none of them were wet.

"Blimey, they're dead!" Ron cried, his face going paler than it already was. "Awh, bloody hell. What kind of school are these people from?"

The bodies were indeed dead, with skeletal structures in the dark room. All that looked like women were holding candles, slowly moving through the floor and towards the front. There were about forty in all.

"First their guns are transfigured into people, then they shoot at us, now they're dead, what's next? They'll be flying around in those Muggle contraptions or something…" Most Holy Spirit! Who didst brood upon the chaos dark and rude…

Hermione wished that Ron would quit complaining. That melody was just beautiful, almost as if it were entrancing her. She tried to think it through, only to noticed that almost everyone else around her—besides Ron, who was still moaning—was entranced as well.

The song ended, but the humming did not. One single man brought himself from the ground completely, suddenly flesh and bone again instead of skeletal as the others still were. He stood at the podium, his face stern, his eyes aged beyond their years. He was wearing a high stand-collared white tunic, with black shoulder boards that held some kind of tassel-like objects, white trousers, and white shoes. He had the most ribbons, medals, and pins, too, of all of his comrades, besides a few.

"I am Ensign Oliver Bradley of the American Academy of Magic's Branch of Military, the Navy," he said, his voice low and smooth, like butter. "I have chosen to serve in the United States Navy. We have a creed:

"America depends on our performance for her survival, and we accept the challenge to set our standards high, placing our country's well-being above self interest." During this, many skeletal figures rose from the murky depths of the floors, becoming solid. They took out wands—the ones without candles—and pointed them at the ceilings.

"We will be loyal to our country, its Constitution and laws, and to our shipmates. We will be honest in our personal and professional life and encourage our shipmates to do the same." The sky was becoming darker by the moment, all of the candles somehow gone. Lightning flashed overhead, making some Hufflepuff girl cry out in fright. More were out of the floor.

"We will, to the best of our ability, do the right thing for its own sake, and we are prepared to face pain or death in defense of our country. We will be professionals, wearing our uniforms with pride and accepting responsibility for our actions. We will set excellence as our standard and always strive for ways to make us a better sailor and our crew a better crew."

Suddenly everyone was out of the floor, all wands pointed to either the ceiling or floor. The floor was now a torrent of waves, the ceiling a deadly black vastness.

"Neptune has control over the sea, has it at his whim. Just because we are magically inclined does not mean we can control fate," Oliver Bradley said calmly, with a cold glint in his voice. "We do naught for self, but for country."

"HOOYA!" they all cried, and instantly bright yellow beams flew out of all of the wands. The weather instantly cured, to become sunny and wonderful. "NOT SELF, BUT COUNTRY, SIR!" and all was quiet.

Rowdy applause went through the room, and Ron cried out, "This is brilliant! I'm going to start watching those Muggle movies you keep telling me about, Hermione!"

She rolled her eyes. Of course you are, Ron. You were just moaning about what they were going to do to you next. Not that they've done anything, of course.

When everything got quiet, Hermione noticed that all three of the Leading Officers were talking with Dumbledore seriously. They pointed up to the ceiling a few times, which was still sunny and bright.

Suddenly a blast of brown, blue, and white made a BOOM, and the three at the top of the podium jumped, giving scathing looks when they saw who was there. There was a tall, blonde-haired man with a spiffy blue-black jacket, many ribbons, pins, and medals on his chest. A simple white-collared shirt underneath, and a tie. There was a thick belt around his waist, and shiny black shoes on his feet. He had the same-colored blue-black pants, and seemed to be very happy about everything, even the scathing looks.

"Hi, everybody," he said, a big grin on his face.

Who does he remind me of? Hermione wondered as the man just grinned.

"Hello!" Fred and George said back, grinning the same way.

Oh, well. I should have known.

The man at the podium waved to them, then said, "My name is Second Lieutenant Justin Lucas, but you can all call me Justin. Everyone else does." There was a group of chuckles from somewhere in the ceiling, and everyone looked up, though nothing was there.

"I'm from the A-A-M's Branch of Military, the Air Force. I," he said smugly, making his voice deeper, "I am an American Airman. I am a Warrior. I have answered my nation's call. I am an American Airman. My mission is to fly, fight, and win.
I am faithful to a proud heritage, a tradition of honor, and a legacy of valor. I am an American Airman, Guardian of freedom and justice, my nation's sword and shield, its sentry and avenger. I defend my country with my life."

"Let me guess," Ron said scathingly, Hermione shushing him, "he's an American Airman."

Hermione and Harry had to stifle laughs at the point when the man said, "I am an American Airman: Wingman, Leader, Warrior. I will never leave an Airman behind. I will never falter, and I will not fail."

He let there be a moment of silence before he burst out in a grin. "You are all probably expecting something cool to happen." There were some laughs that rang out through the hall. "Well, I'm not gonna disappoint you!"

Some people cheered loudly before a trumpet appeared out of thin air. The Airman grasped it and started blowing a loud, fast-paced tune.

Instantly people gasped, pointing upwards. Gunshots looked like they were raining through the air, but no one was shooting from the ground. Then, a pair of feet appeared out of the ceiling, then legs, then a body, and then a head. Lastly came a parachute, and many sets of feet started showing.

All of the parachuting soldiers started singing, some of them holding trumpets, others drums, and some were conjuring life-like airplanes to start flying around the room, making as much noise as possible. Others were making fireworks, explosions, and general mayhem.

Off we go into the wild blue yonder, climbing high into the sun!…

This time, the song was long, but fun to listen to. By the end of it, though, most of the men and women were on the floor, all of them wearing the same thing as Justin, except the women were wearing pristine white skirts and black pumps. All fifty of them stood up in a square, as in sync as any of the other three Branches, and looked like they had just come out of a military movie.

"Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, please meet the American Academy of Magic's Air Force," Justin said, gesturing to them.

Everyone then started clapping, and Dumbledore came to the podium, two of the people on either side of him, clapping as well. "Well done, well done America!" he cried, laughing heartily. "Splendid displays of magic! Please, take the seats that please you."

The Marines looked around, and their Leading Officer, Leo Langston, pointed towards the Slytherin table where the Durmstrang students had sat. The Navy looked as well, and Ensign Oliver Bradley appeared to have taken interest in Ravenclaw. He ordered his men towards the place where the Ravenclaws and Beauxbatons were sitting.

The Air Force saw a few happy faces over at Hufflepuff and quickly made their way there, and Hermione looked up to see that the woman who had led the Army was standing right beside Angelina Johnson. "Do you mind if my troops and I sit here?" she asked softly, smiling.

George and Fred were also sitting next to Angelina. They smiled and said, "Not at all," in perfect synchronization.

"Company, just sit," the Army woman said, a sparkle of laughter in her eyes. The rest of her group chose different places to sit along the Gryffindor table, the girl just standing beside Angelina. "My name's Leigh Ann Nelson," she said, holding out her hand. "Born and raised in South Carolina, in the US of A."

Note 1: Terry Venables replaced Graham Taylor as coach of England's football team in 1994/1995.

Note 2: "Army of One" was the Army saying back in the 90's. Now it is "Army Strong."

Note 3: All of the "March" commands were hopefully explained enough. If not, please message me.