As he stepped off the plane, he watched the many of the other passengers run to family and friends. There were lovers kissing, mothers hugging their children, and grandparents greeting their new grandchildren. None of them knew the war that had gone on, or at least, he assumed they didn't. Not many Muggles were even aware magic was real.

Some days he wished it wasn't.

If he had been born to strictly Muggle parents, his mother and father would still be alive. He would not have been forced to grow up under the stairs in a cupboard. He wouldn't have been forced to deal with the burning sensation that he got when Voldemort had been near. Things would have been so very different. Then again, he could have ended up like his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin. Completely terrified of magic.

If he ever had a family, would he marry a Muggle, or a Witch? Would he allow his children to know about the magical world, or would he hide it from them? Not that he planned to have a family in the near future, if at all.

"Mr. Potter?" He finally heard, as if on the edge of a dream. "Mr. Potter?" He turned toward the voice and gave the man a small smile. The man was about Harry's height, bald, and seemed very cheerful. He was dressed in a black suit, his tie a dark green. "I'm Gregory. The University thought it would be nice to start your stay in America with a warm welcome. Your hotel room is all ready for you. I'll be driving you there tonight. I trust your trip was to your liking?" The man asked, taking Harry's carry on bag.

Harry simply nodded. It was new, not being famous. He hoped that the Wizarding world in America treated him less like a celebrity then what he was used to.

"Do you think we could stop and get a bite to eat somewhere? The food on the airplane was dreadful." He finally spoke up as they gathered his trunk from the luggage area, along with Hedwig. She hooted her approval at seeing him again, earning the gances of a few people.

"Mommy! Look! An owl! Can I see?" A little girl asked as she pulled her mother towards Harry. The girl was about five, with bright brown eyes and red hair. He liked to think that's what Ron and Hermione's daughter would have looked like.

"I don't think that's polite, dear. I'm sorry, sir." Her mother told Harry, although it was obvious she thought it was odd he had an owl in a cage.

He gave the girl a smile and knelt in front of her. "It's alright. Here, you can look. Her name is Hedwig."

After a few moments of the girl giggling at Hedwig and looking back to her mother to make sure she was looking, they said their goodbyes.

"And, yes, Mr. Potter, we can stop somewhere to eat. What did you have in mind?" Gregory finally asked.

"Call me Harry, please. And where do you suggest?" He was used to eating like a Wizard, not a Muggle. That, and to his understanding, America's food was a tad different then in Britain.

Gregory nodded and thought a moment. "That depends. Do you want fast food, take out, or a sit down meal?" He could make suggestions on any of them, but didn't know what Harry preferred.

"Take out." That way Gregory wouldn't have to wait around while he ate, and he could get comfortable in his hotel room. Chances were, Hedwig would spend most of her time outside, anyway.

"Alright, there's a Chinese place about two blocks from your hotel. Or there's Thai, as well."

"Chinese, thank you."

For the rest of their time in each other's company, neither said anything. Gregory figured that Harry was just jet lagged, as many were after a long flight. Harry, however, just wasn't sure what to talk about. His mind was elsewhere. It wasn't like he could simply say 'so, how has it effected American Witches and Wizards now that Voldemorte is dead?'"