Capítulo 1: Chapter 1: Awakening in an Alien World(rewrite)
Desmond's eyes blinked open, and the early morning light trickled through the curtains, casting a dim, silvery glow across the room. For a moment, he just lay there, processing the tangled mess of memories and emotions now lodged in his head. The merging of his own thoughts with those of young Severus Snape felt overwhelming, like trying to cram two different lives into one mind.
But Desmond, being who he was, didn't allow himself to panic for long. As he sat up, he rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of everything. He had always been a logical thinker, someone who could compartmentalize his emotions, but it was still a struggle to reconcile the pain and anger of Severus's life with his own memories of a relatively normal, mundane existence.
Still, if there was one thing he had now, it was perspective. He could see Severus's life not just from the inside but with the clarity of an outsider. "
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Severus had been a victim of his circumstances, trapped between the abuse at home and the torment at school, with no real support system. It was no wonder he'd gravitated toward the Dark Arts—when the world felt out of control, the promise of power could be intoxicating. But Desmond wasn't Severus. He didn't carry the same bitterness and insecurities that had led Snape down that dark path. He had a chance to do things differently, and damn it, he was going to take it.
For a moment, he thought he might wake up back in his old, familiar world, with his cramped apartment, messy desk, and that annoying alarm clock that barely worked. But no, he was still here, still in the alien comfort of the Slytherin dormitory, and still staring at a ceiling that was far too medieval and ornate for his taste.
Pushing himself up, Desmond's (or rather, Severus's) limbs felt heavy and awkward, like he was learning how to move for the first time. He glanced around the room, taking in the dark green curtains, silver accents, and the general ambiance that screamed "pure-blood pride." It was almost exactly how he had imagined it from the books, but now that he was actually here, the feeling was surreal.
It was strange being in a room like this, with everything immaculately placed—books lined up neatly on the shelves, cauldrons polished and stacked in a corner, and a few potion bottles glowing faintly with unknown concoctions. For someone who had never seen anything magical in his life, it was both thrilling and terrifying.
"What the hell is going on?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. It was weird to hear the smooth, nasally tone of young Severus Snape instead of his own voice. He hadn't even had time to properly freak out before he'd passed out earlier, but now the reality of it all hit him like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just a vivid, elaborate dream—this was real, and he was actually stuck in the body of Severus Snape. *The* Severus Snape, before he became the sneering, sarcastic Potions Master everyone loved to hate.
Desmond stumbled out of bed and walked over to the mirror, studying the reflection staring back at him. The boy had lanky black hair that fell awkwardly around his face, slightly greasy but not as bad as he remembered from the movies. His skin was pale, and his eyes were dark, sharp, and intelligent, though there was a shadow of insecurity behind them, as if he was always expecting the worst.
"Okay, don't panic," he said to himself, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just... figure out what's happening. You can't possibly be stuck here forever, right?" But deep down, he had no idea how he'd ended up here or how he was going to get out. And if this was some kind of bizarre joke, it wasn't funny.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. If he really was in Severus Snape's body, then this was the 1970s, and he was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That meant he was surrounded by all the characters he'd read about and admired... or despised. And he was now one of them.
"Alright, think, Desmond," he muttered, pacing the room. "What do you remember about Snape at this age? He's still a student... fifth year, I think? Sixth year? He hasn't gone full Death Eater yet. He's still... oh crap."
He paused as it hit him. "He's still in love with Lily."
The realization brought a strange mix of emotions. It was like being slapped with nostalgia, pain, and dread all at once. Severus's love for Lily was tragic, one of the most bittersweet parts of the story, and now he was living it. He felt a pang of sympathy for the real Severus, the boy who had grown up in a harsh, loveless home and only found solace in a single friendship that eventually shattered.
Desmond shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. "No, this is insane. I don't know why I'm here, but I need to play it cool. First things first—figure out the basics. Where am I in the timeline? What's happening right now?"
His stomach growled, and he realized he hadn't eaten since... well, since whenever he'd been in his own body. "Alright, maybe I can think clearer once I get some food," he said, grabbing the Slytherin robes off the chair and slipping them on. They were heavier than he expected, the fabric thick and warm. As he fastened the silver and green tie around his neck, he glanced back at the mirror.
"Well, Severus," he said, flashing a dry, half-smile at his reflection, "guess we're in this together. Let's see if I can avoid screwing up your life more than it already is."
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
Raul_vaz
Raul_vaz I'm going to be re-writing the chapters every day as I'm not really happy with the way it's turning out so stay tuned and comment on changes to be made and stuff you want to see Severus do in future chapters.
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