Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews and favs/follows. I happy to see this fanfic being well received. Just to quickly answer somebodykillme, this was going to be revealed a bit later in the story but there's no harm in saying now. Time Travel/Alternate world. :) But don't worry. Sam will find out soon.

Also, realized I didn't put this up in the first chapter, this takes place somewhere in Season 5 of supernatural. Before 99 Problems sometime.

While Dean laid down in the cupboard - there was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep - he looked up at the dark ceiling. Maybe the feelings he had gotten belonged to this spiky haired kid? They certainly weren't his.

It wasn't long before there was more sounds moving around - voices and people walking. In fact, he was fairly sure someone was purposely walking back and forth on the stairs above his cupboard.

Wait - his cupboard?

There was a suddenly a shrill voice, which made Dean wonder for a moment if there was a Banshee in the house, "Up! Get up! Now!" and then after a second, there was a banging at the door, "Up!"

There was an audible click as the door was unlocked again, then the sounds of footsteps and the clang of what sounded like a fry-pan being put on a stove.

Dean slowly walked over and opened the door up, looking out with a small frown. The woman who had knocked on the door had walked into what Dean knew from his earlier escapade was the kitchen. The woman walked back over to Dean, a sour expression on her face, "Well, don't just stand there – I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." she turned her back to Dean, and started to walk away, just as Dean let out a small, "What?"

"What did you say?" the woman asked, looking back at Dean, with a glare so disgusted it was as if he had rolled in garbage.

"Nothin'" Dean replied, tilting his head and watching as the woman gave a 'that's-what-I-thought' nod of her head and walk away.

Still quite confused, Dean seemed to act on auto-pilot again, his small body walking into the kitchen and going over to the stove where the bacon was frying. He had grabbed a spatula and turned over the bacon before he could ask himself, Why the hell am I doing this?

A rather fat man entered the kitchen, a newspaper in his hand. He took one look at Dean before barking, "Comb your hair!"

'Eggs next.'

It was that voice again, the one that sounded like it belonged to this kid. Dean frowned, his small hands grabbing a pair of tongs to take the now cooked bacon out of the pan. Why the hell was he doing this?

'Instinct, probably. Eggs are next.'

Dean frowned, grabbing the egg carton out of the fridge and cracking some open, 'Who the hell are you? And why am I in your body?"

There was silence in his head as the eggs sizzled, but in the kitchen there was a new arrival. It was a boy, probably about the kid's age that Dean was in (that sounded wrong) and looked a lot like the man sitting at the kitchen table.

Then Dean noticed the presents sitting on the table. Something clicked in Dean's brain – that must be Duddy – Dudley. My cousin. – and it was his birthday that the Banshee woman had mentioned.

'Aunt Petunia. And that's Uncle Vernon. They're the Dursleys. I live with them. Oh, my name is Harry Potter – sorry. I seem to only get snippets of what you're thinking. The rest is just feelings.'

Dean was silent as the kid rattled on in his head. So now he had names – great. Fat lot of good that'd do him – what he'd like to know now is what the hell was going on.

The bacon and eggs were finished cooking so Dean put them out on the three plates that were there, and with a frown he grabbed a fourth plate and put the portion he had cooked for himself out on it. He put the plates on the table – more auto pilot. Did this kid make breakfast for this family all the time? – and the new kid, Dudley, seemed to be counting the presents.

Whatever the verdict was, the boy's face fell, "Thirty-six." He said, looking up at his father, and then his mother when Banshee-woman returned, "That's two less than last year!"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. Was this kid seriously about to have a temper tantrum about having thirty-six presents?

"Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"Alright. Thirty-seven then." The boy seemed to be going red in the face, and yup, he was definitely about to throw a tantrum about getting thirty-seven presents. Dean was eating the bacon he had cooked, shaking his head slightly.

Banshee-woman Petunia seemed to be getting the same impression that Dean was getting, as she quickly added, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?"

Dudley's face scrunched up, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"

"Nine. Thirty-nine." Dean muttered under his breath just as Petunia said, "Thirty-nine, sweetums."

Banshee-woman and pig-boy didn't seem to have heard him, but judging by the glare Dean was getting by Vernon – pig-man? Have to think of a better one – he guessed that Vernon had heard. Oh well, big whoop.

"Oh." Dudley sat down on the chair heavily, grabbing the closest present, "All right then."

Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" with that, he ruffled the boy's hair.

Dean rolled his eyes.

The phone rang, just then, making Petunia leave the kitchen to go answer it. Dudley started opening his presents, but Dean couldn't care less about what the pig-boy got. He sat there, in silence, but he was thinking hard.

Harry? Yo, Potter. Dude – you there? Mind telling me why the hell I'm in your body?

It seemed for a moment that Potter wasn't going to reply, until there was a quiet, 'I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen! Nothing ever happened before. I just wished that I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore. That someone could take my place. I didn't think this would happen!'

Dean sighed, Relax kid. My name's Dean Winchester. I deal with shit like this a lot – well, not this specifically, but weird stuff.

'Oh. So you have any idea what's going on?'

Depends. When you say 'wished' what do you mean by that? Like, you had a wishing object? Or a shooting star, or what?

'Uh… more like praying I suppose?'

Ah crap.

'What?'

However, before Dean could reply to the boy in his head, Banshee-woman returned, an expression of anger and worry on her face, "Bad news Vernon. Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head at Dean.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror.

"Now what?" Petunia asked, glaring at Dean as if he had planned this whole ordeal – which Dean was fairly sure Harry hadn't.

"We could phone Marge?" Vernon suggested, and Dean was aware of a squirming feeling coming from the back of his head. Sounds like Harry didn't like this Marge person. From what Banshee-woman said next, Dean guessed the feeling was mutual.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

Dean watched with a raised eyebrow.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?"
"On holiday in Majorca."

"Y'could just leave me here." Dean comment, arms crossed over his chest.

It would give him time to fix this mess, call Cas and Sam and get out of here. And if the feeling he got from Harry was accurate, then Harry felt like that it was a good plan to stay here.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" Banshee-woman snarled, expression on her face as if he had forced her to drink lemon juice.

"I wouldn't blow this place up." Dean scoffed, no that would be the Angel's job once Dean got his hands on them.

But they didn't seem to be listening to him, "I suppose we could take him to the zoo…" Petunia said slowly, "But leave him in the car."

"The car's new. He's not sitting in it alone." Vernon debunked the idea.

Then pig-boy, much to Dean's utter disbelief, started crying. However, it only took a second for Dean to recognize that they were fake tears. Petunia flung her arms around him, "Dinky Diddydums- " seriously? "Don't cry. Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!"

"I… don't… want … him… t-t-to come!" the pig-boy, no, now he was cry-boy and Vernon was pig-man, yelled between obviously fake sobs, "He always sp-spoils everything!" the boy sent Dean a nasty grin from between his mother's arms.

Then the doorbell rang, making Petunia frantically stand up, "Oh Good Lord, they're here!" she said, and two people entered the kitchen – a boy about Dudley and Harry's age and his mother.

Dudley stopped his pretence cry instantly.

Eventually, they couldn't work out what to do with Dean so they had to bring him along with them. Vernon had taken Dean to the side and spoke in a low, and what the pig-man probably thought was threatening, tone, "I'm warning you." He started, putting his face right in Dean's, but the boy didn't back away, "I'm warning you now, boy – any funny business, anything at all – and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"What, like setting free all the animals?" Dean asked, but nodded his head as he noticed Vernon's face go an interesting shade of purple, "Relax, I'm not going to do anything."

Vernon didn't seem to believe him, but Dean really didn't care. He was going to do something anyway, he was planning on leaving in the crowd but the least he could do was make as little trouble for Harry once the boy regained control over his life.

Anyway, they all climbed into Vernons new, plastic, terrible car and started making their way to the Zoo. Dean was squished next to Dudley and his friend, and was forced to listen to Vernon rant and rave about motorbikes. They could've at least played the radio.

'I had a dream about a motorbike… it was flying.'

Dean barely jumped at the sound of Harry in his head, Really? Sounds interesting, kid. He replied, somewhat absently.

'Yeah. It was weird, but just a dream.' He was quiet for a moment, 'Dean… how old are you? You keep calling me kid.'

Uh, I'm 30. Makes it super freaky to be stuck in a kid.

Harry was silent after that, and the car pulled into the Zoo and the family and friend climbed out of the car. It wasn't until Dean caught sight of the name of the Zoo that he froze, and then quietly spoke to Harry again, Dude. Is that London Zoo as in London London? England London?

'Is there any other London?'

Crap. Dude! I'm American! I was in America! When I get my hands on whatever feathery douche did this I'm gonna light their ass with holy oil.

'What?'

Don't worry about it kid. Life just loves to screw with me.

And with that, Dean was quick to hurry up behind the Dursleys before the noticed he had stopped. Inside the zoo was crowded, but that made things much easier for him to be able to wander off away from that crazy family.

The only empty room that Dean found was the reptile house. He moved over and sat down next to the Boa Constrictor cage, where the snake was having a little doze, "Hope you're not afraid of snakes, kid." he muttered under his breath, "Alright – here goes nothing."

Dean looked up at the ceiling, "I – uh – pray to Castiel to get his feathery whitey-tighties here 'cause I'm in England in the body of some kid and I really don't want to be and let the poor sap get back to his life before I punch his family. I'm – uh – in the Reptile house of the London Zoo." there was silence.

'What... what are you doing?'

"Callin' a friend." Dean replied, muttering under his breath, "C'mon Cas. Daylight's burnin' and the more I'm stuck here the more I'm gonna do something I won't regret but Harry here might."

Dean waited a few more minutes, but it came apparent that nothing was going to happen. Dean let out a heavy sigh, "Great. Perfect. Cas, this better be because you can't hear me and not because you're laughing or something."

Hope you liked the chapter 3 Reviews are love! :D