Chapter 5

He was feeling good—like, really good. Maybe it was the satisfaction of finally having a decent nose or the way his hair actually shined for once. Whatever it was, he was ready to tackle the day, even if that meant pretending to pay attention in class while plotting his rise to power.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he caught sight of a group of Gryffindors, clearly waiting for the professor to arrive. Among them were none other than the Marauders, whispering to each other like a bunch of middle schoolers planning a prank. Desmond could practically see the gears turning in their heads, and he felt a pang of pity for whoever was about to be on the receiving end.

"Ah, the Four Stooges," he thought, trying not to roll his eyes . "The future saviors of the wizarding world, everybody. What a joke."

He could feel their eyes on him, and he knew they were probably whispering about the "new look" he was rocking. James, in particular, looked like he'd just seen a three-headed dog, his glasses slipping down his nose as he stared.

"Oi, Snivellus," Sirius called, stepping forward with that cocky grin of his. "Trying to look fancy for someone special? Maybe Evans?"

Desmond stopped, slowly turning to face them, and gave Sirius a look that could only be described as "Are you serious right now?" The Marauders snickered, and James raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reaction.

"Well," Desmond said, his voice calm and almost bored, "if by 'special' you mean not looking like I've been run over by the Knight Bus, then yes, I'd say I'm succeeding. But I appreciate your concern for my grooming habits, Black. It's touching."

Sirius blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the response. Apparently, the real Severus would have either glared at them or fired back with something equally nasty. But Desmond wasn't here to play their little game; he was here to mess with their heads.

James narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. "You look… different," he said, like he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult crossword puzzle. "Did you get a haircut or something?"

Desmond's lips twitched. "No, Potter. I just decided to stop looking like I got dressed in the dark. It's called self-improvement. You might want to give it a try sometime."

The rest of the Gryffindors burst out laughing, and even a few Slytherins who had been hanging around nearby smirked. Sirius looked like he was about to say something else, but at that moment, the door to the classroom swung open, and Professor Merrythought walked out, looking as cheerful as ever.

"Good morning, everyone!" she chirped, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. "Come in, come in! We've got a lot to cover today, and I hope you're all ready to learn about the wonderful world of hexes!"

Desmond took the opportunity to slip past the Marauders and into the classroom, finding a seat near the back. He wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of sitting anywhere near them, and besides, he needed a good vantage point to observe. He was still getting used to this whole "being Severus Snape" thing, and it was going to take a bit of time to figure out where he stood with everyone.

As the students filed in and took their seats, Desmond flipped open his DADA textbook and pretended to read, even though he was really just glancing over the diagrams of various hexes and wondering how he could make them even more dangerous. He wasn't planning on becoming a dark wizard, but it couldn't hurt to know how to mess someone up if he needed to.

Professor Merrythought started the lesson with her usual enthusiasm, going on about the finer points of defensive magic and how important it was to be prepared for any kind of magical threat. Desmond half-listened, making mental notes on anything that sounded particularly useful, but mostly just letting his mind wander.

"Alright, let's see what we've got here," he thought, skimming through the chapter. "Jelly-Legs Jinx, Tickling Charm… really, this is basic stuff. If I'm going to survive, I need to start learning some serious spells. Like, where's the chapter on 'How to Not Get Murdered by a Dark Lord'?"

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his thoughts by Professor Merrythought's cheerful voice. "Alright, class! Let's have a little demonstration, shall we? Mr. Snape, would you be so kind as to join me at the front?"

Desmond's head shot up, and he blinked, realizing that everyone was now looking at him. He could see a few of the Slytherins smirking, and James looked like Christmas had come early.

"Great," he thought, standing up and making his way to the front of the class. "First day, and I'm already getting volunteered for public humiliation. Just my luck."

Professor Merrythought smiled brightly at him. "Now, Mr. Snape, I'd like you to demonstrate a simple Disarming Charm. Do you think you can manage that?"

Desmond raised an eyebrow. A Disarming Charm? Really? That was the kind of spell you learned in your first year. But he nodded, pulling out his wand. "Of course, Professor," he said, trying to sound confident. "Would you like me to demonstrate on you, or should I pick a volunteer?"

The professor beamed, clearly delighted by his enthusiasm. "Oh, how polite! Why don't you choose someone from the class, then?"

Desmond turned to face the room, his eyes scanning over the rows of students. He saw James practically bouncing in his seat, clearly hoping to be chosen so he could make a fool of him. But Desmond wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. Instead, he pointed to one of the smaller Slytherins sitting near the front—a timid-looking first-year who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"You," Desmond said, trying to sound as gentle as possible. "Would you mind helping me out?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he nodded, slowly getting to his feet and shuffling to the front. Desmond gave him a reassuring smile, then raised his wand.

"Expelliarmus," he said calmly, flicking his wand.

The first-year's wand flew out of his hand and into Desmond's, landing perfectly in his grip. The boy blinked, looking stunned, and the rest of the class started clapping, impressed by how smooth it was. Even Professor Merrythought looked pleased.

"Well done, Mr. Snape!" she said. "Very well done indeed. That was excellent control."

Desmond handed the first-year his wand back, giving him a nod. "Thank you for your help," he said, then turned back to the class, flashing a quick grin.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," he thought, heading back to his seat. "Maybe being the new and improved Snape won't be such a disaster after all."

But as he sat down, he caught sight of the Marauders again, and this time, they didn't look amused. James was frowning, and Sirius looked downright annoyed.

"Guess I'm making some enemies," Desmond thought, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Good. This is going to be fun."