The Doctor took something from the other side of the console. When he came around to Harry's side, the boy saw a box. He looked up at the Doctor with a question in his eyes.

"I went to your aunt Petunia's house while you were asleep. She knows you're with me, and she gave me this. Everything in this box belongs to you."

Harry's eyes widened, and he reverently took the box from the Doctor. It was just a bit too big to hold it in his lap, so he put it down next to him on the pilot seat. Slowly he lifted up the lid to look at the treasures inside.

The first thing he saw were the tin soldiers he'd rescued from Dudley one time. They were lying on top of a light blue blanket, so he lifted them out and put them in his pocket.

The blanket, when he took that out of the box, was the softest thing he'd ever felt. He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek over it for a moment. He wanted to hug it to his chest and never let go, but there were more things in the box. When he hung it over the back of the seat, he noticed that in one corner there were three letters embroidered with red thread: an H, a J and a P. He traced his fingers over the embroidery, before turning back to his box.

Next were some carved wooden figurines, looking almost life-like enough to start walking any moment. There was a stag and a doe, as well as a fawn. A big dog and a wolf, and a sleek grey rat. They were nicer toys than anything he'd ever had. Next to the figurines, there lay two stuffed toys, a grey wolf and a big black dog. Other than these, there were some baby clothes which he left in the box, and a letter which he took.

He looked at it intently for long moments, but he could not read well enough yet to be able to understand the flowing script.

He held out the letter to the Doctor, who'd been puttering about the console to give Harry some space.

"What does it say?" he asked quietly. The Doctor took the letter and scanned it quickly, his brows drawing together. He went back to the top and started reading out loud.

To Petunia Dursley,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. The baby boy you just found is your nephew Harry James Potter. I regret having to inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, died last night at the hands of the Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort.

The letter went on to explain how Lily's sacrifice had protected Harry, rebounding something called a Killing Curse at the caster, thereby vanquishing him. The sacrifice allowed the writer of the letter to place blood wards on Petunia's house, which would further protect Harry from those with ill intent, so long as he called Petunia's house home.

Some home that turned out to be, the Doctor thought but did not say out loud. He was a bit confused about some of the words in the letter, and even the wording of it, but if he had suspicions about what it all meant, he kept them to himself.

The writer expressed hope that in taking in her nephew, she would help protect him from Voldemort's followers, and raise him as if he was her own.

Most of the letter's contents went over Harry's head, but one thing was very clear.

"My aunt and uncle, they told me my parents were drunks, that they died in a car crash. But the letter says they were killed? So what happened really?"

The Doctor leaned against the console, crossing his arms in front of him.

"I don't know. This Dumbledore person seems fairly certain about the facts, but I imagine there were no witnesses there that night. Still, I am inclined to believe this letter over anything your auntie dearest might have told you."

Harry scrubbed at his eyes, which were burning. He'd always secretly blamed his parents for their supposed car crash, leaving him in the care of his aunt. To find out now that they'd had no choice, and indeed that he was only alive at all because his mother had given her own life... well, it was a lot to take in.

"It's ok to cry, you know."

Harry looked at the Doctor with wide eyes. Despite last evening in his cupboard, when he'd soaked the Doctor's brown jacket with his tears, his first reaction was still 'crying is for girls', a lesson the Dursleys had imprinted on him, notwithstanding Dudley's crocodile tears.

The Doctor came closer. "Do you want a hug?"

Harry silently nodded. The Doctor opened his arms, allowing Harry to hide his face. The burning in his eyes eased when he allowed the tears to drop.

After a while he sat back up, just a little bit embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it," the Doctor said, wiping away the wetness on the boy's cheeks. "I've done my fair share of crying, no matter what some of my faces might tell you."

Harry leaned back to look up at him. "Faces?"

The Doctor waved a hand. "Not important right now. I'll explain later. Now, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. You remember the tests I ran, and the particles I found?"

Harry nodded.

"There seems to be a concentration of them in your scar."

The boy subconsciously touched the raised skin on his forehead. It was shaped like lightning, a jagged streak with several forks branching off, running from his hairline down to just above the bridge of his nose, thus covering most of the right side. It always looked just a little bit inflamed.

"Aunt Petunia said I got burned in the car crash," he explained.

"Yes, well, we've established we weren't going to believe anything your aunt said. Which means something else must have caused it. May I see it again?"

Harry liked that about the Doctor. When he wanted to do something, he asked first. If aunt Petunia had wanted to see his scar – although why she should want to, he had no idea – she would have grabbed his head and looked.

Harry combed back his fringe, exposing the scar. Normally he kept it covered, mostly because aunt Petunia made him.

The Doctor ran cool fingers over his forehead, following the forks of the lightning.

"There's... something, a sense I'm getting... Harry, my people have some telepathic abilities. Would you allow me into your mind? I promise, I'd only try to find out more about what caused your scar. Anything you don't want me to see, just imagine it behind a closed door. I won't snoop."

If the conversation had been less heavy, Harry would have laughed in delight. See, the Doctor was magical! He might deny it, but telepathy was one of those forbidden words that uncle Vernon didn't ever want to hear.

Instead, he nodded seriously. He wanted to know. He didn't even try to hide anything. The Doctor had already seen his cupboard, and had taken him away from there. He could see the rest of it too, as far as Harry was concerned.

***HPatMwaB***

The Doctor placed his hands on either side of Harry's head and closed his eyes. "Let's see what we have here, hmm?" he muttered softly.

When he entered Harry's mindscape, it was to see the typical chaos of the unorganised mind. He saw no doors, and felt touched about the trust the small boy had placed in him. It was no evident thing to allow a person unfettered access to your mind, especially if you'd only just met them. The glimpses he saw of the way Harry had grown up only made him gladder that he'd taken the boy away from there.

He turned around and extended his mind's senses, since he didn't need eyes as such. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he would know it when he saw it.

Sure enough, after a while he could separate the mind that was distinctly 'Harry' from... something that was most definitely 'not Harry'. When he examined the anomaly closer, he could see a big black... blob, or maybe a shadow, surrounded by a golden net.

There were tentacle-like protrusions trying to reach out and root themselve in Harry's mind, but every time one of the tendrils so much as touched the golden net, it withered away, only to be replaced by a new one trying to get through.

The Doctor carefully withdrew and let go of Harry's temples, although when he opened his eyes he saw the boy fighting back a laugh.

"Tickles," he explained succinctly. The Doctor was impressed. Most humans – in fact, most species – would not have detected his presence in their minds, even knowing he was there. Was the boy a telepath?

"Ok, so," he said, "there's definitely something there. I'm assuming the... whatever it is, lets call it the Anomaly, has something to do with your particles."

"What's an a... alomany?"

"An anomaly? Something that is present where it should not be."

"So I am a Freak?" Harry looked down as he asked that question, evidently afraid of the answer. The Doctor mentally sighed, cursing the boy's family yet again. Whoever had left him on their doorstep, likely this Dumbledore fellow who had written the letter, had a lot to answer for.

"No, Harry. Never that. The Anomaly is trying to gain a foothold in your mind, but something else is stopping it."

"Another alo... anomaly?

"I don't know, but I don't think so. Whatever it is, its sole purpose seems to be stopping the Anomaly. No Anomaly, no protection. I think it'd be best if we got a friend of mine to take a look at it. I don't want to do it myself and risk making it worse. But that's not a decision to be made lightly. The protection is doing its job for now, but eventually we'll need to make sure the Anomaly is stopped for good.
"Now, we have a decision to make. I promised you we could go wherever you want to go, and I'm not breaking my promise. So tell me, where do you want to go? Past? Future? You name it, I'll take you there!"

Harry blushed. He was not used to a grown-up remembering a promise, and acting on it. He had a feeling he might just have to get used to it though – and how he loved that feeling!

"Can we go somewhere far away?"

The Doctor grinned. "Far away! My favourite! We can do that, can't we, old girl," he said to the empty air. He whirled around to the console and started pushing buttons. "Allons-y!"