Chapter 7

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of whispers, raised eyebrows, and plenty of double-takes. Desmond—still adjusting to being called "Severus"—was loving every moment of it. The old Severus Snape had been a lanky, awkward, and frankly miserable figure that nobody paid much attention to. But now, after a few magical tweaks and a little more swagger, he was practically a different person.

His transformation was causing quite the stir. Everywhere he went, he could hear murmurs following him like a buzzing swarm of curious bees. Some Slytherins whispered as he passed by, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "Is that... Snape?" they muttered, like they were trying to convince themselves that they weren't seeing things.

During Potions, he didn't say much, just focused on brewing, keeping a cool, aloof expression. But he could feel the occasional glances from across the room. Even Professor Slughorn, who normally only paid attention to his "Slug Club" favorites, seemed intrigued. The older man kept sneaking curious glances at Desmond's improved appearance, his walrus-like mustache twitching with surprise.

Desmond smirked to himself. Let them wonder. It would do them good to start getting used to the idea that Severus Snape was no longer the same kid they could ignore or bully. He was different now—*better*.

The real fun, though, began when he made his way to lunch. He walked through the Great Hall again, the same smirk plastered on his face. He'd half-expected the effect from earlier to have worn off, but if anything, the stares were even more intense now. Maybe word had spread, or maybe people just needed to see it again to believe it.

This time, though, he was ready. As he strolled toward the Slytherin table, he made a point of glancing around the hall, locking eyes with a few people who were staring too openly. The Marauders were, of course, among them. James Potter's jaw practically hit the table, while Sirius Black raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain his cool but clearly caught off guard. Desmond just gave them a lazy, half-mocking smile and then moved on, as if they were nothing more than background scenery.

He was almost at his usual spot when he heard a soft, lilting voice from behind him. "Severus, darling, you're certainly making a scene today."

He turned to see Narcissa Black, standing with that effortless, elegant grace she always seemed to have. She was a year older, but she carried herself like she was queen of the castle, her long, platinum hair shimmering like strands of moonlight. Today, she wore it loose, cascading over her shoulders, and she was smiling—a smile that Desmond could tell was carefully practiced, but not without warmth.

"Afternoon, Narcissa," he said, trying to sound casual, but finding it a bit difficult when she was looking at him like that. Was she... interested? There was a spark in her eyes that hadn't been there before, and Desmond suddenly realized that the old Severus probably hadn't noticed it because he'd been too busy obsessing over Lily Evans.

Narcissa took a step closer, her smile widening slightly. "You're looking quite... different today," she said, her voice teasing. "I almost didn't recognize you." She paused, her eyes drifting over his face, taking in the straighter nose, the sharper jawline, the confident posture. "I like it."

Desmond blinked, a little taken aback. He'd known Narcissa was polite, even charming, but there was something else there now—something in the way she looked at him, like she was seeing him in a new light. It clicked then, like a puzzle piece snapping into place: she was flirting with him. The old Severus hadn't noticed because, let's face it, he had about as much romantic awareness as a garden gnome, but *Desmond* was a different story.

He decided to play along, just to see where this would go. "Oh, you noticed, did you?" he said, giving her a lopsided grin. "I thought I'd try something new. Figured it was about time people saw a little... improvement."

Narcissa laughed, a soft, melodic sound. "Well, I approve. It suits you." She tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful. "But it's more than just your appearance, isn't it? You seem... different. More confident. I like that too."

Desmond raised an eyebrow. "You're full of compliments today. Should I be worried?"

"Maybe," she said, her eyes gleaming playfully. "But I'd say it's more that I'm curious. You've always been clever, Severus, but you've been hiding it under all that... brooding. Now it seems like you're finally letting people see the real you."

Desmond chuckled. "Or maybe I'm just tired of blending into the background. Besides, why brood when you can enjoy yourself?"

Narcissa's smile grew. "I couldn't agree more." She moved a little closer, lowering her voice so that only he could hear. "But you know, confidence can be dangerous. People might start paying more attention to you. Especially certain... Gryffindors."

Desmond rolled his eyes, catching her not-so-subtle reference to the Marauders and Lily Evans. "Let them. If they've got something to say, I'm not hard to find."

Narcissa's eyes sparkled. "That's the spirit. Just... be careful, won't you? Some of them don't take well to change." She reached out, almost absentmindedly, and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. It was such a small gesture, but it felt surprisingly intimate.

Desmond felt a twinge of surprise, but he didn't pull back. If anything, he leaned in slightly, meeting her gaze. "I appreciate the concern, Narcissa. But I think I can handle myself."

She smiled, a touch more genuinely this time, and nodded. "I'm sure you can. But if you ever need... assistance, you know where to find me."

Desmond smirked, feeling oddly pleased by the whole exchange. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Narcissa walked away to join her friends, Desmond found himself watching her go, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. The old Severus would have been flustered, awkward, and probably would've missed the whole point of the conversation. But *he* wasn't the old Severus, and that meant he had a whole new set of possibilities to explore.

"Well, well, Severus," he thought, grinning to himself as he finally took his seat at the Slytherin table. "Looks like you've got a lot more going for you than you thought. Time to see just how far this can take you."

As he grabbed a piece of chicken, he noticed the Marauders still staring at him from the Gryffindor table, clearly confused and maybe a little annoyed. Desmond just winked at them, then turned his attention to his breakfast, already planning his next move.

"Step four," he thought, munching on his toast. "Make some unexpected allies. And if a pretty girl like Narcissa Black wants to be one of them, who am I to say no?"