No one would ever be caught denying that what happened at the Potter household on Halloween 1981 was a tragedy. Mr. and Mrs. Potter's murders, the house trashed, and the whereabouts of their murderer, and their infant son, unknown. Rumors and speculation ran wild during the first few months. Lord Voldemort had kidnapped young Potter to become his heir, some said. They had both died and been incinerated by a backlash of magic, said others, and maybe that was the more reasonable assumption, since there had been quite a lot of magical energy left behind at the scene.

Of course, the most important detail of the case would be overlooked by literally everyone investigating it, and that detail was that every single one of the Potter's neighbors who had been subsequently interviewed reported hearing a strange, difficult to describe wheezing noise in the lull that had followed the sounds of a house being partially blasted to pieces.

- Just outside Potter residence, Godric's Hollow, England, Earth. October 31, 1981. –

The Doctor, hand-cobbled scanner in hand, stepped out of his time machine with all the grace of a foundling giraffe. That is to say, he half-staggered out of it, glanced around in an incredibly suspicious manner, and then made for the house whose lawn he had landed on at an unhurried pace. He was a tall, thin, man, dressed in a tweed suit accented by a red (magnificent) bowtie, and his time machine bore a suspicious (identical) likeness to an old-fashioned blue police call box. It looked very out of place on the Potter's lawn, and the Doctor looked quite out of place as well standing on the Potter's doorstep and squinting at the remains of their front door. It had been cruelly assaulted as Voldemort and his Death Eaters entered the house, and now hung forlornly on one hinge.

"Bad luck, Jimmy," he said in a perfect English accent, and stepped over the threshold. The beeps of his scanner led him up the stairs, and he paused only to bend down and shut the eyes of James Potter's still-cooling body. In grim silence he proceeded to the top of the stairs and down a short hallway, where he paused long enough to turn off the scanner—the beeping had become so frequent as to be annoying—and tuck it into a coat pocket that should have been too small to hold it before taking a deep breath and entering the nursery.

"There you are." He bypassed Lily Potter's body—her eyes were already closed—and went straight to the crib. The baby sitting inside had the blank gaze of a child in shock, and an ugly red scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. The Doctor ran a finger over the scar, then his hand over the baby's head before reaching over and lifting him out of the crib. The movement, or maybe the fact that it allowed young Harry a view of his mother (whom he would have preferred to have been picked up by, if anyone) caused him to finally begin to cry.

"Shhh, shh. It's all right. Well, no it's not. But it will be. You're all right." He rocked Harry in his arms with the well-practiced ease of a parent, stroking the back of his head as he carefully swayed toward the door. "We'll fix you right up. Yes we will." Harry hiccupped through his tears as they moved down the staircase, and managed to get a bit of baby babble in as well. "Yes, I'm afraid so," replied the Doctor, and little Harry began to cry yet again.

With a still somewhat fussy Harry on his hip, the Doctor crossed the forlorn lawn once more and entered the TARDIS. The process of dematerialization was more challenging with just one free hand, but the Doctor thought he was doing a rather excellent job despite the handicap. It was unclear whether Harry agreed, but surprisingly he seemed to be calming down amidst the wild rocking of the TARDIS and the frantic manner in which the Doctor was flinging himself around the console.

Once the TARDIS was safely in the time vortex and locked on course, everything became calm and the Doctor took little Harry deeper into the ship, a bounce in his step.

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll be just fine. The TARDIS is just about the safest place in the universe. You quite like her already, don't you?"

Harry babbled a response, and the Doctor beamed. "Of course you do! And now you're more than a bit tired, so we'll just settle down…"

They entered what could only be a nursery on that note; while it felt a bit antique, it was certainly nothing to sneeze at. There were stars projected on the ceiling, a plethora of toys scattered about the room, and the centerpiece of it all was a worn, but serviceable, wooden crib.

"This was mine once, you know," the Doctor said conversationally as he gently lowered Harry into the crib. "But I don't mind sharing." He set the crib to swaying on its rockers, smiling as Harry's infant squirming slowed and his eyelids began to droop. "Dream of the stars," he suggested kindly, and stayed within arm's reach for the few minutes it took Harry to finally give in to sleep.

With that settled, he returned to the console room, secure in the knowledge that the TARDIS would make sure the nursery was undisturbed despite the complicated flight path the Doctor was about to engage in. That was one of the many benefits of being the pilot of a sentient spaceship.

The Doctor danced around the console again, this time with much greater purpose to his movements. He was aiming for a specific place at a specific time—not something he was particularly good at, to be honest, but it was important so he was making an effort. And that effort paid off when, a few minutes later, the TARDIS materialized with its trademark wheeze and the Doctor saw, on the scanner, that his course had rung true.

-an office inside Luna University, the Moon. October 31, 5223—

It was long past time for classes to be over, even the night ones, and most students and faculty had already gone home for the night. But Professor River Song was certainly no average faculty member, nor had she been an average student one hundred years previously when she had attended LU as a student herself. She was working on a new lesson plan, one that was sure to keep her students on their toes as it involved quite a bit of practical work. So it was easy to imagine her alarm when her work, which was scattered across her desk in the form of many sheets of loose leaf paper, was scattered to the four corners of her office as a mysterious breeze appeared from nowhere, accompanied by a disembodied wheezing noise…a noise that was soon revealed to originate from a blue police box.

River stood at her desk, torn between delight and deep annoyance. It was always nice to see her husband, but he could pick the worst times…

Her annoyance turned to bewilderment when the man himself stepped out of the TARDIS, a bright grin on his face.

"River!" he announced happily, spreading his arms wide. "Great news! I've brought you a baby."