Hey new story here, don't own any of the stuff( like SPN, HP, or the slight PJO) though... BUT! I can make stuff with my brain and change stuff to put on to this here site! YUP, either way hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to review and stuff.

Harry had just rounded the corner leading onto Private Drive when he felt something off. The weekly load of groceries, that the Dursleys forced him to retrieve weighing down on his bruised and sunburned shoulders as he stumbled along.

A bead of sweat traveled down his face as he looked at his Aunt and Uncle's very own house Number Four, which blended in with the other disgustingly similar cookie cutter houses that lined the street. Harry sighed as he turned and stumbled up the driveway, bypassing Dudley's discarded toys and dented bike on his way up. His mood sinking more as he realized that he would need to pick them up and put them away for the third time that day, before his whale of an Uncle returned home from Grunnings. All in all, these depressing thoughts of the punishment he was sure that he was going to receive today for not finishing his chores overpowering the guilt he felt for Cedric.

" Merlin I'm depressing right now." The ravenette murmured dazedly, narrowly avoiding his annotated Bible that was launched at his face.

" YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING MONSTER! GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!" An annoyingly familiar voice shrieked.

Harry guessed that he really shouldn't be as surprised to be yelled at as soon as he walked through the door, but then realized that he had no clue as to why he was being yelled at this time. That was until he glanced at his balloon-like cousin and caught the smirk that his cousin aimed at him. Now, Harry really shouldn't have been annoyed at this point, except for the fact that he had saved Dudley from an untimely, yet not undeserved, death. Which would have included by getting his soul leeched from his body by those damned Dementors, not but a summer before this one. Alas here he was, back in the cupboard under the stairs, all rights that he had previously gained back had once again been taken away, just because he had decided to attempt to be a decent human being towards his tumor-like cousin.

Harry, quite frankly though, was sick of his never-ending situation. The constant denial of food and water and his freedom, that was supposedly a basic right, swept away from him without a second thought. This constant game of cat and mouse for his human rights was grating away at his nearly nonexistent patience. The only good parts of his predicament was that he was able to at least attempt to finish his Summer workload and also that Hedwig had been sent to live with Sirius for the time being. Other than that Harry was completely and utterly bored with nothing to do, and nothing to keep him busy that wasn't stressing or mourning.

That was until he started to mess with the floorboards, after the brief memory of his younger-self placing his most prized sketchbook under a loose board. He kept at his searching until he found the old floorboard and pried it up. A dust plume shot into the air and Harry instinctively tucked the lower part of his face into his shirt and fanned away the excess dust and debris until he could breathe without hacking up a lung or any other important organ.

Looking down he was able to glance at his dust-covered treasure for a moment before he grabbed it and begun flipping through all of his old sketches, smiling warmly at the different animals, plants and humans that he had either drawn, or at least tried to in some cases. Only stopping in the middle when he hit the first blank page in the entire book. The rest of the pages after this blank stopper filled with meaningless sketches of half done motorcycles and heartfelt masterpieces of friends, demons, monsters and even some premonitions he'd had. Images of the foretold apocalypse, of the angels falling by the hundreds above the States, images of the wraith of Tom Marvolo Riddle laying cozy inside of him. And Harry hated it, all of these images that he knew were either true or bound to become so and there was absolutely nothing that he could do without alerting Dumbledore and the others.

If he left he would be tracked by both the Order and the Ministry and would be back to his personal Hell to be beaten to the brink and thrown back into his cupboard for the rest of the summer hols. All plans either lead to being found, and being found merely lead to being one step closer to death or to die violently.

Something that he had to avoid if he wanted to stop most of his premonitions from being true was the Winchester Brothers and their soon to be pet angel from breaking the last of the seals, and he knew that they were the catalyst of the apocalypse because of the ever-reoccurring Winchester brothers that have been plaguing his dreams. Oh those brothers, the body count that follows them is laughable but perfectly suitable for being the vessels of Lucifer," The Morning Star", and Michael, " Host of Heaven". Either way, the outcome depended on if he could intervene or not. Because if he failed millions of lives would perish, but on the small chance that he succeeded all major misfortunes could be avoided.

Harry sighed again after making a rash decision amongst the bickering voices in his mind, and turned slowly to his trunk and grabbing a roll of parchment and his Bic pen so he could begin penning a letter to his dear Tommy boy.

Dear Voldemort,

If this gets to you please first realize this, your soul is fragmented you Moron. Your followers have also ruined any chance of you every peacefully reaching your goal so you must deal with that.

But with that entire thought aside I must first state that I am in a pickle at the moment on my participation in the British wizard's war against you and with my participation in another more important matter. The choice though was easy to make in the end after thinking this through and I have decided to postpone our flashy and dramatic fight as a way to give you the chance to rethink your approach to this, and me a chance to fulfill my other goal. In my leave please refrain from attacking Hogwarts or anything of the likes, instead please get rid of Fudge and put someone like Malfoy into office.

Love,

Your Neighborhood Nemesis, Potter

Harry stared for a moment before willing the parchment to his 'enemy' and watched carelessly as it vanished within the minute. After the task was finished he began gathering his meager belongings into his trunk, and willing the trunk to change into a rucksack for his long journey ahead of him before stretching lethargically and pushing his cupboard door open and gliding down the short entry hall to the front door. As soon as he touched the front door he wished himself away, catching the eyes of his reddening uncle as he did so.

Harry realized that in the long run this could be seen as a rash decision, especially in the long run, but as of now he realized that this was the only time that he would have to insert himself into the necessary timeline, via Samuel Winchester, and to act on from there. For now though, Harry thought to himself as he shifted in his seat between an obese man and a mother of two, I just need to make it through this bloody flight. He groaned internally as the babies, both perched snuggly in their mother's arms, decided to wail in harmony… Definitely going to need to make it through this bloody flight first. Harry nearly groaned aloud this time as the baby closest to him spit-up on his leg and the mother, almost simultaneously, began yelling at Harry for whatever reason. She continued to yell for nearly five minutes before a man in a faded orange shirt and an eerily similar resemblance to Harry turned to the lady and snapped at her to ' Quit screeching at the kid because you can't control your own'. Which in turn only made her yell more at the other man this time to which he jerked back to his original position and promptly ignored her, but not before the mother and Harry got a glimpse of the odd blur of a tattoo on his forearm.

" Attention passengers, attention passengers." At the Captain's voice the lady's jaw snapped shut," there are five hours and thirty minutes left on this flight so get comfy and enjoy the rest of the flight!"

A simultaneous groan could be heard loudly throughout the plane.

Hope it was good (all 1,450 words of it), ;D! TOODLES, HORSEYGIRL OUT!