The day rolled on like a well-cooked potion, each class stirring up a little more excitement than the last. Charms had been particularly entertaining; Professor Flitwick, despite his tiny stature, was a dynamo of energy. He'd introduced them to the "Cheering Charm," and Desmond had made a mental note to use that on Potter whenever the opportunity arose. Nothing like a bit of merriment to disarm the competition.
After managing to charm a few of his classmates into uncontrollable giggles, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Not only had he improved his skills, but he'd also showcased Severus Snape's potential to be a fun-loving prankster. Maybe it was time to rewrite his character arc entirely. "Desmond Grey: the Slytherin Class Clown," had a nice ring to it.
With a quick detour to the library after class, Desmond decided to pick up some light reading on Horcruxes. After all, if he was going to save that hapless DADA professor and take down Voldemort—he couldn't help but feel a little presumptuous—he needed all the intel he could get.
The library was, as usual, a quiet realm of dusty books and shadowy corners. Desmond noticed a few first-years huddled together, looking lost as they squinted at a particularly thick tome. He suppressed a grin. "Ah, the sweet scent of confusion. I remember it well," he thought, chuckling to himself as he grabbed a book titled *Horcruxes: An In-Depth Study of Dark Arts and What Not to Do with Them*.
After scanning the pages and finding an alarming number of warnings about the emotional and physical toll of creating Horcruxes, he closed the book with a definitive thud. "Not today, Tom," he muttered under his breath, already feeling the weight of his own internal conflict. A Horcrux was one thing, but having to kill someone for it? Yeah, he was definitely going to steer clear of that road.
Feeling a little disheartened by the prospect of diving into dark magic, he decided to head back to the Slytherin common room. As he walked, he mentally mapped out his plans for the evening. Maybe he'd practice a few spells, hit the books again, or even try that nose-fixing spell once more—this time with a little less screaming involved.
Finally reaching the familiar dank stone entrance of the Slytherin common room, he felt a surge of anticipation. The space was filled with the warm glow of flickering candles and the muffled sounds of laughter and chatter. He plopped down into a plush armchair, letting out a sigh of relief as the day's events washed over him. It felt good to finally feel like part of the house.
"Oi, Severus!" called out Vincent Crabbe, a bewildered look on his face. "Where've you been? We thought you got lost or something."
Desmond smirked, "Lost? In a school with a thousand hidden doors and secret passages? Not a chance. I've just been busy discovering the secrets of the universe—like how to get Potter to look less obnoxious."
The laughter that followed was infectious, and Desmond reveled in it. He found himself exchanging jokes and playful jabs with his housemates. Even Lucius seemed slightly less annoying today, though Desmond noted that was likely due to the sheer magnitude of his own charm.
As the night wore on, the mood shifted, and Desmond felt the pull of exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. It had been an eventful day, and while his mind buzzed with new ideas and plans, his body was ready to call it quits.
"Alright, you lot," he announced, rising from his chair with a dramatic flair. "I'm off to conquer the realm of dreams. If you need me, I'll be busy fighting dark wizards and riding dragons."
"Good luck with that, Snape!" shouted Adel Parkinson, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Try not to wake up with a scaly beast in your bed!"
"Yeah, well, if I do, I'll be sure to send it your way, Adel!" he shot back, laughing as he made his way to the dormitory.
Once inside the room, he took a moment to admire the dimly lit space. It felt oddly comforting, like a secret hideaway filled with potential. He tossed his bag aside and climbed into bed, the soft sheets welcoming him into their embrace.
As he settled in, he thought about the incredible journey that lay ahead. Sure, he was still Severus Snape, with all his past's baggage and heartaches, but he also had the chance to forge a new path. Desmond Grey was here now, and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity.
"Tomorrow," he murmured to himself, "I'll make my move. I'll be the most legendary wizard Hogwarts has ever seen—or at least a decent prankster who can hold his own."
With that final thought, he drifted off into the land of dreams, ready to take on whatever magical madness awaited him. The future was uncertain, but for now, he was content. And that, in itself, felt like a victory.