In the pre-dawn light of November 1, a man with common brown hair and common brown eyes walked calmly along Privet Drive. He paused in front of Number 4 and glanced around before slipping up the drive and taking the bundle that had been left on the front stoop.
"What sort of master plan was this, honestly?" he muttered, tucking the baby into his arms.
With one last glance around, he vanished.
When Petunia Dursley put out her milk bottles, she didn't think about her sister or her nephew or all the odd things her husband had seen the day before. She wouldn't think about any of that for a long time – not until Albus Dumbledore arrived to ask why Harry Potter hadn't replied to any of his acceptance letters.
But that was a decade away and she had breakfast to prepare for her darling Diddyums.