Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or…well, anything really. I don't own anything that I'm writing about anyway.

Author's note: Welcome! To the collection of drabbles that were influenced (and practically stolen from) the lovely ladies Kammeron and Excentrykmuse. They have their "What if wishes were…" stories that focus on just the HP world, but I wanted to expand from that. So…here we are. I will confess that I do have somewhat of a life, and have not read every book, nor watched every TV show or movie known to man. This point brings us to our deal. You're more than welcome to suggest any pairing (preferably slash) from any series I've written about so far; That includes Harry Potter (obviously), LOTR, Twilight, the Chronicles of Riddick, Ouran High School Host Club, Gundam Wing, and Supernatural. You are also more than welcome to suggest anything from a series I haven't mentioned. It doesn't mean I'll agree to do it, but hey, I'm an open book. I'm doing this because I need ideas, because I've wrung my muse dry, and beat it with a stick to the point that it's cowering in a corner and refusing to come out.

This first chapter was picked out by Scarletsptember, who I kind of felt was owed something when I guessed the plot of one of her latest stories in the first chapter. So this chapter is Supernatural/Harry Potter, with a Gabriel/Harry match up.

Blood Wards, what a joke. What genius came up with those anyway? The only things they keep out are moles and the occasional psycho wizard bent on destroying whatever was inside. The ones surrounding this house in England, Little Whinging if he remembered correctly, were the worse he had seen in some time. Wards like those were tied to familial blood, to love, to trust, and while the blood was there…the rest wasn't.

Petunia Dursley could only be named as a bitch. She waggled her tail high and mighty to the other bitches, expected those who were her betters to grovel at her feet, and yet was treated like the bitch she was whenever that beached whale of a husband, and sack of lard she called a son were home.

The Dursley males weren't that different. He could almost compare Vernon Dursley to a snake, but then he felt like he would be insulting the snake. The man seemed to know how to play the game; knowing when to bow and grovel, when to take charge, even if he went too far with it. Hell, the man had been embezzling money from his company and screwing around with his secretary for years. At least said secretary was sleeping with him to use him for his money, that's the only reason he wasn't planning on killing that worthless woman too.

He wasn't sure how to do it though; after all he had to do his reputation as the ultimate 'Trickster' justice. Maybe he would force the fat ones to gorge themselves until their little piggy bellies explode, maybe he would force Petunia Dursley in front of the television, freezing her in place until she died of starvation, or bashed her own head in with a remote control.

There was one thing that stilled his hand, or rather, one small boy. That is, if you could really call the little street rat under the stairs a boy. Maybe he's what called Gabriel's attention to the house in the first place, now that he really paid attention he could see the boy's power glowing like a white beacon. The magic was pure, not the pureness of an angels magic that was pure just because of the sheer fact of angelic purity, but pure in its innocence in the face of so much evil.

While the family was asleep (which, he didn't have to wait for since he knocked them out himself), he slipped silently through the front door and made his way to the closet, his hand resting on the blemished wood that separated him from the quietly sobbing four year-old boy. Even with his connections to heaven hampered, he knew that this boy was Harry Potter; the son of Lily and James Potter, two of his personal favorite 'tricksters' on their own right. Jamie-boy was pretty good at the pranks that were openly intended to offend and hurt, while Lily…oh she was the one that he could truly call a Marauder. That devious little vixen, who had hair of flame to match her temper. It also helped that her name was one of the symbols of the 'Archangel Gabriel', but he hadn't worn that hat for quite some time.

He'd let the Dursley family live for now, if only because he knew the Wizards that set up the wards would move the boy if he killed them. They would move the kid somewhere that had better protection, better wards, maybe even ones that could stop him…Nah.

He wanted to see the kid grow though, and if, just if the boy got a slightly not-so-angelic nudge every once in a blue moon…Well, they would have to just wait and see.

I'm really thinking of writing more Gabriel/Harry matchups, for some reason…it calls to me.

By the way, the future author's notes will never be this long again. So feel free to send me a review that includes the two series you want to see, and give me an idea (in five words or less) of what you would like to see.