Light years away from a world called Earth, a scientist feverishly slaved over the miniature spaceship in front of her. Just as she pressed a button, engaging the engine of the ship and activating the lift drive, the world began to tremble around her.

"Fal! Come quickly!" she cried into the intercom. "I've done it!"

A man with grey hair to match his wife's strode in, a bouncing infant in his arms. He stopped next to her, staring at the ship with apprehension and relief. "You did it," he breathed, dropping a kiss on her head.

"Did you have doubts?" she asked wryly as she triggered the door to unlock with a hiss. It revealed a small cockpit, designed for one tiny passenger.

"Never." The man shot a smile at his wife that quickly soured into a frown when his boy babbled and waved his tiny fist. "Must we really send him away? You know Jor, he tends to jump to conclusions—"

"Whatever quarrels I have had with Jor-El in the past, he is right about this," said the woman firmly. "Krypton is dying. I've seen the data myself, but none of it means a thing to the Council." She shook her head and abandoned the spacecraft to curl into her husband's side. "I just thank Rao that Jor asked me to look over his 'hypothetical plans' for a rocket ship." She ran a hand gently through the boy's hair. It stubbornly defied gravity and perked back up messily. "His curiosity will save my son."

Another tremor shook the planet and they heard a crash as something broke in the other room.

"I wish we could go with him."

"We can't put if off any longer," she said, meeting her husband's eyes.

"Surely not yet," he protested, dipping to brush his cheek against his son's head.

"Do you think I want to part from my child?" her voice cracked. "We can't wait until the very last second," she argued. "The ship is ready now and if we wait…anything could happen. We have to save him while we still can."

The baby whined as his father pressed him closer, wrapping strong arms around the toddler's back. The older man kissed him and murmured words of love to his baby boy, his voice choking with effort. He then passed the baby to his wife, who gave him the same treatment. Finally, she settled the boy, blanket and all into the spaceship.

The toddler looked around curiously, his hands reaching out for the bright buttons on the console. The woman smiled and held him back, carefully strapping the boy in, and putting his hands out of reach.

"Will he be all right?" her husband asked anxiously, wringing his hands. "It's a long journey and he doesn't have anything to eat or to play with—"

"Once I close the hatch, I will activate the stasis field," his wife stated soothingly, pressing several buttons on the console. "It will keep him safe, frozen in time, until the ship interacts with another planet's atmosphere."

The ship's door shut, sealing their son inside and putting him to sleep. They watched with watery eyes as the ship angled and the bay doors opened for the launch.

"What about this planet?" he asked. "Will he be safe?"

"Jor-El selected a good planet," she said, wrapping an arm around her husband's waist. "It has a yellow sun, plenty of resources and a thriving population of sentient beings that closely resemble Kryptonians. He will be safe there."

And with that, the ship's thrusters ignited, pushing the space ship out of the doors and into the sky. The two solemn parents watched as their baby hurtled off into space, breaking through the atmosphere and easily slipping into the darkness of space.

As the two parents cried together, another two ships flew off into the darkness of space, shortly before the planet shook itself apart and was destroyed.

Millions of light-years away and an untold amount of time later, the first Kryptonian ship crashed onto a planet called Earth. It landed on the grounds of a large estate maintained by an austere, childless couple.

Minutes after the ship crashed right through the delicate rose beds, a small pop indicated the arrival of a small creature with large ears. Its bulbous eyes widened when it heard the protesting cries of a small child from within the ship.

It stood there, staring, until a burst of wind and thudding feet signaled the arrival of its master.

"Jarby, what is it?" the man asked, staring at the hunk of metal. It was scratched and dented in many places, but the long and oddly shaped craft was still in one piece. The sounds coming from it, however, were more familiar. "Is that a child?"

"Yes, Master," the house-elf squeaked. "What does Master want Jarby do?"

"Go get Euphemia," he ordered. The house-elf bowed low and then disappeared with a crack.

The man frowned and waved his wand. Nothing happened. "Alohamora," he called out, waving again. When the nothing changed, he frowned and attempted several other spells, to no avail. At last, he slammed a fist against the side of the ship, cursing it and its creators. His touch, however, seemed to be enough.

The hatch unlocked, letting out a sharp hiss of air. The man watched with bated breath as the object opened to reveal a small boy. His breath caught in his throat as the boy stopped crying, staring at him with soft hazel eyes. Immediately, the man felt his heart seize and sputter into new life.

He barely noticed climbing over the wreckage or reaching in to pull the child into his arms. Nor did he notice as his wife hurried to him, the house-elf dogging her ankles.

"Fleamont—!" she exclaimed, before her own voice caught in her throat. A little boy, one she had wanted for so long, called to her from her husband's arms. Soon enough, the two adults stood together with the boy sandwiched between them.

"Well dear, what do you think?" the man murmured to his wife. "We've always wanted a boy of our own."

"Yes, but Fleamont," she spluttered, eyes wide. "He's probably got a family somewhere… a mother who's missing him!"

The man shook his head, pointing at the pile of metal behind them. "If he has a family, they must have sent him away," he said in a low tone.

Euphemia's hand flew to her mouth. "Do you think… is he a Muggle?"

"Perhaps," Fleamont said, readjusting his grip on the wriggling boy, "but would it matter?" His eyes shone. "We're not getting any older, my love, and we have yearned for a child for so long. Perhaps this is fate's way of delivering us a son!"

"Won't it be cruel, Fleamont?" she argued. "Bringing him into this world of magic that he can never be a part of? He'll be written off as a Squib! What kind of life is that for a child?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it, love," Fleamont reasoned, flapping a hand. "There's still a chance he could have magic — he made it through the wards, after all." He raised an eyebrow. "Besides, we have enough gold. He wouldn't have to work a day in his life and there'd still be enough to watch over his children."

Euphemia shook her head. "And what of our world? When they find out we've adopted a boy…" she swallowed, running a hand through the baby's soft hair. "They will not treat him with kindness."

"Then we do not tell them," Fleamont said firmly. Euphemia shot him a look. "We have not ventured into the public eye since I retired from the business," he pointed out. "And we hardly have reporters at our doorstep." He smiled, rubbing his hand along the boy's back as he fussed. "Trust me; no one will say a thing when we belatedly announce the birth of our son."

Fleamont gently passed the baby to his wife's arms and instantly her uncertain expression melted. Euphemia smiled and cuddled the warm being to her chest. The baby grasped at her with firm hands and she felt her heart swell with love.

"I trust you, my love," she murmured at last, leaning into her husband.

Jarby stared at his family and then at the little Muggle boy nestled comfortably in his mistress's arms. The little human radiated little more than his own life force — though strong, he had no magic. Not even a drop.

The Potters were good masters and Jarby did not want them to be sad. No matter what Master Fleamont said, they would be sad that the little Master did not have magic. Master Fleamont was kind and good to house-elves and protected them when bad people tried to hurt them. Jarby wanted to do something for Master Fleamont… and there was nothing his master wanted more than a son. So Jarby did what house-elves are never supposed to do — he meddled in the affairs of great wizards.

He snapped his fingers and watched golden threads of light extend from both Potters into the child between them. Those threads twined and absorbed into the baby's body, merging with his spinal cord and imbuing that fragile body with magic. Time would allow the donation to grow and merge fully with the child's growing body. In eleven years, when the boy left for Hogwarts, he would be indistinguishable from the other children born with magic.

Jarby couldn't help the satisfied grin that took over his whole face as he watched his happy family walk back into the manor. The Potter family finally had an heir.

A/N: Welcome! To new readers, I hope you enjoyed this first snippet of my fic and that you'll stick around for more! To my old readers, I am so sorry I have not updated some of the other fics that you've been asking for more of.

I've been reading more comics lately and have been transitioning as a writer to different styles and mediums. I've also had to split my little free time with original work, as I've started publishing professionally as well. For updates on my other fics, please check out my profile for more details.

Thanks again for stopping by and reading!