PROLOGUE
The news was bittersweet, as most things were in their lives. Albus and Lily Potter figured they'd
be leaving England to go to America. They'd seen the look in their father's eyes when he talked
about the United States. They knew how Hogwarts was closing after the end of that year. But
yet, in spite of all of this, they didn't want to leave their friends; they didn't want to leave the
Gryffindor common room and the new friends they'd come to know and love; they didn't want to
leave Hogwarts. It was not a home for Albus and his little sister, Lily, but it was as close to a home
as it could be with loving parents in London thinking about them.
Oh, yes, the mediocre house they lived in, with its short, wide windows, its polished wood floor the
color of their mother's hair, the spiral staircases with creaky boards, the peeling green wallpaper, the
grandfather clock which never chimed at the right time, no matter what spell you put on it: everything
about that house was small. Small chairs, small tables, small beds, small rooms with small lights which
flickered every now and then and hummed a single note twenty-four seven: you'd think the man who
had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort would live in a better place, now.
But no, once freedom swept the wizard world everybody forgot their father and focused on trying
to live life regularly again. People stopped caring for others, they became self-centered. The only families
who hadn't fallen into this new way of thinking were the Longbottoms, Lovegoods, Grangers the Weasleys,
of course, and surprisingly, the Malfoys. The Potters and the Malfoys had settled things between them. Draco's
father wasn't as proud as he once was; Narcissa Malfoy felt extremely grateful towards Harry, who had told
her that her son, Draco, was still alive. Harry was not sure why she felt so grateful for so tiny a deed, maybe
it was the first time somebody had actually been there to help them.
Hogwarts wasn't the fantastic place it once was. You could see the damage from the Battle of Hogwarts like
it happened yesterday. Broken stained glass windows were on every floor, portraits who had gone off the deep
end after the Battle who muttered things while smiling eerily that scared the first years, there were many holes in
the walls where giants had fallen through, and black spots on the walls where the fiend fire had broken loose.
Most of Hogwart's money went to helping the wounded and for funerals for the lost.
Far too many of Harry's teachers had died after the battle. McGonagall died seven years after the battle from
old age. Professor Flitwick accidentally set himself on fire and died from severe burns, even by wizard's standards.
Slughorn died because of lethal alcohol levels. Even Hagrid was expecting his life to end, soon. While Harry
experienced all of these things, he remembered what Dumbledore had said, "To the well organized mind, death is
but the next great adventure."
So that June, the Potter family, all except James, apparated together to America. James had moved on in life and
worked at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, and was happy living his life. The rest of the Potters sensed
adventure; a new life to live; a new world to be accustomed to. They were going to live in, "America; land of the free
and home of the brave". Or, at least, that is what it was known then…before Panem existed.