Chapter 4

But his mind was already racing. Dumbledore's little mental probe hadn't gone unnoticed. It was subtle, like a soft knock on a door, but Desmond could tell it was more than just a casual glance. The old man was testing him, trying to see what was going on inside that newly-polished head of his.

"Well, sorry to disappoint, old man," Desmond thought, "but you're not going to find anything interesting in here. At least, not yet."

remembering Dumbledore still smiling, that twinkle in his eye as bright as ever. Desmond felt a chill run down his spine. That man knew more than he was letting on, and Desmond had to be careful. Sure, he'd thrown a mental punch back, but it was like trying to swat a fly off a dragon. Dumbledore hadn't even blinked.

"Great," he thought, monologuing thoughtfully.
"I've got to train my Occlumency to the point where I can keep out a guy who can probably read minds while knitting a sweater and eating a sherbet lemon."

The Marauders, meanwhile, were still watching him from the Gryffindor table. James and Sirius looked particularly suspicious, like they were trying to figure out what kind of prank Desmond was pulling. Desmond caught James's eye for a moment, then quickly looked away, smirking to himself.

"Don't worry, Potter," he thought. "I'm not here to play your little games. I'm here to play a much bigger one."

As he scanned the class, his eyes landed on Lily Evans. She was whispering something to her friends, but her green eyes kept darting over to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. Desmond's heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to look away, keeping his expression neutral. It was weird having all of these conflicting emotions swirling around inside him—Severus's old feelings mixing with his own detached attitude. He didn't want to be that guy who pined over someone who didn't care, but at the same time, he couldn't just switch off the memories that had shaped this body's past.

"Ugh, why did it have to be Evans," he thought, rolling his eyes internally. "I mean, come on, there are like a million other things to worry about, like surviving a literal war."

And that brought him back to the most pressing issue: power. He was woefully lacking in it, at least compared to the major players in this world. Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Death Eaters... they were all leagues ahead of him. If he was going to survive and, more importantly, thrive, he needed to train.

"Time to start acting like a protagonist," he mused. "Grind magic, build muscles, eat protein bars… wait, do they have protein bars in the wizarding world?"

He was definitely going to need to find a way to strengthen his body. This body had potential, sure, but it wasn't exactly built for endurance. If he wanted to be able to duel, dodge curses, or just, you know, not get pushed around by other wizards, he needed to bulk up a bit. He briefly imagined himself lifting weights in the Room of Requirement, getting ripped like a wizarding version of Rocky Balboa.

"And maybe some push-ups in the Slytherin dorm," he thought with a smirk. "Sure, it'll look weird, but I bet even Malfoy Senior didn't do squats in his spare time."

And then there was the magic. Desmond had a lot of knowledge, but he was still behind in raw power. Severus's past self was good with potions and decent with spells, but there was so much more he needed to learn—Dark Arts, Occlumency, maybe even a bit of wandless magic if he could figure it out. Anything that would give him an edge.

"Just call me the Saiyan Snape," he thought, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Getting stronger every time I get my ass kicked."

And then there was the whole Prince thing. Severus's mother, Eileen Prince, came from a pureblood family that was all but forgotten now. But if Desmond remembered correctly, there was still a lot of potential there. Pureblood families had connections, artifacts, and, most importantly, vaults full of gold.

"If I'm really the last male Prince, I should be able to claim whatever's left of the family fortune," he thought, his eyes glinting with a bit of greed. "And who knows, maybe there's a cool family heirloom lying around somewhere that'll give me a power boost. Like a magical sword, or a ring that lets me see through walls. Or a hat that makes me invisible... wait, that's the Invisibility Cloak."

The thought made him snicker, and a few students nearby glanced over, looking a bit startled at the sight of Severus Snape actually smiling. Desmond quickly composed himself, glancing down at his book as if he'd just read something particularly amusing.

"Step one: survive this year without getting killed by a rogue curse. Step two: make a trip to Gringotts and see if there's anything left of the Prince family fortune. Step three: figure out how to avoid becoming a Death Eater without making Voldemort hate me. Easy peasy."

He finished his breakfast, pushed his plate away, and stood up, adjusting his robes. The hall was starting to clear out as students made their way to their first classes, but Desmond was in no rush. He'd gotten a taste of power this morning, just from the way people were looking at him, and it felt good.

"Alright, day one of the new Snape," he thought, walking towards his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Let's see what kind of trouble I can get into."

he couldn't help but smile. It wasn't going to be easy, but then again, when had being a protagonist ever been easy? And if he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the most of it.

"Watch out, wizarding world," he thought, grinning to himself. "There's a new Severus Snape, and he's not just here to survive. He's her