An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
hi guys!! i just wrote my veryvery first fanfic 🥹 i would love it if you guys could read it and give advice on what i can improve on!!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: James Potter/Severus Snape
Characters: James Potter, Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy
Additional Tags: Past James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Light Angst, Fluff, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, James Potter is So Whipped, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort (Harry Potter), Song Lyrics, Song fic
Summary:
Based off of the song “i do” by briZB.
—
Severus Snape was nothing like the average, angsty teenager, he told himself that all the time.
If this was really the case, he wouldn’t be staring at his best friend’s ex-boyfriend like he knew something and said ex-boyfriend wouldn’t be staring back.
Stuck in an Otome Game Since I Died from a Printer
Severus Snape did not die heroically.
He did not die tragically, either, which felt like a personal insult. If the universe was going to take him out, it could have shown some basic professionalism. A dramatic rooftop, perhaps. A noble sacrifice. A mysterious illness framed by tasteful lighting. Even a respectable heart attack brought on by excessive caffeine while negotiating a long-overdue pay rise.
Not this.
It began with a printer.
Of course it did. The office printer had been making that sound for weeks. The one that suggested it was chewing paper out of spite rather than function. Severus had informed Facilities. Facilities had advised him to log a ticket. He had logged the ticket. The ticket had achieved spiritual enlightenment and transcended to a higher plane where all tickets went to be ignored.
So, on a Tuesday afternoon, armed with a half-drunk coffee and a report due in forty minutes, Severus stood, crossed the carpet, and opened the printer's side panel.
He knew what he was doing. He always knew what he was doing.
Which, in retrospect, was the problem.
The universe had clearly been waiting. Patient. Delighted. Rubbing its hands together like a goblin with a clipboard, just waiting for the precise moment Severus became confident.
The jammed sheet was wedged inside the machine like it was attempting to fuse with it on a molecular level.
Severus reached in.
The printer made a wet, offended noise.
Something sparked. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered.
Severus stared into the machine’s depths.
“This,” he informed nobody, “is why maintenance schedules exist.”
The printer responded by coughing up a plume of smoke so black it bordered on theatrical. Someone gasped. Someone else squealed. Severus stepped back with the composed resignation of a man who had watched poor management decisions for years and expected nothing better.
And then, because the day clearly had standards to uphold, the cheap shelving unit above the printer abandoned physics entirely.
A box of archived paper, helpfully labelled IMPORTANT DO NOT MOVE, tipped forward.
Severus watched it fall in slow motion.
He had exactly one thought. Perfectly calm. Perfectly clear.
I am going to die because of corporate negligence.
The box struck his shoulder. He stumbled. His heel caught on the leg of a rolling chair that might as well have been placed there by a professional assassin with a lanyard. He went down, reached instinctively for the desk, and instead caught hold of the loose cable trailing from the office laminator.
The laminator slid.
The coffee cup toppled.
Hot coffee cascaded directly into the powerboard beneath the printer.
There was a crack like the world snapping clean in half.
Severus’ vision flashed white.
And the last thing he felt, truly, was not pain.
It was fury. Pure, incandescent rage that the final sound he would ever hear was Karen from Accounts screaming, “OH MY GOD, SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!”
He did not even get to correct her.
—
He woke to the scent of clean linen and old money.
That was the first thing he registered. Not antiseptic. Not the sour breath of a crowded ward. Not the mechanical hum of cheap ceiling fans.
No.
This was soft. Expensive. As though the air itself had been laundered and pressed.
The second thing he noticed was that he could feel everything.
Which was suspicious.
Severus opened his eyes.
A canopy bed loomed above him, draped in dark fabric. The sort of bed reserved for historical dramas and people who charged rent in inheritance. The ceiling soared overhead, carved with ornate patterns that caught the light. Sunlight spilled through tall windows dressed in heavy curtains the colour of storm clouds.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
Then he sat up too quickly and immediately froze.
Because his body obeyed.
No stiff back. No familiar knot of tension at the base of his neck. No ache in his knuckles from typing and stress and existing in late-stage capitalism.
He stared down at his hands. Long fingers. Pale skin. Clean nails. No ink stains. No bitten cuticles.
They smelled faintly of blood oranges.
Severus flexed them.
A slow, glacial dread unwound in his chest.
“Right,” he muttered. “Either I’m hallucinating, or I’ve been upgraded to the afterlife’s premium package.”
His voice was his. Mostly. Same dryness, same edge. But deeper. Steadier. As if it belonged to someone who slept properly, ate vegetables, and did not survive entirely on caffeine and spite.
He swung his legs over the bed. His feet sank into a thick rug. Not carpet. Rug. The kind that had survived wars and remained smug about it.
He stood. And waited for the familiar dizziness. It did not come.
His heart beat evenly. His lungs filled without effort. His body felt like it belonged to someone who respected it.
That was the third warning.
The fourth was the mirror.
It stood across the room, tall and framed in carved black wood. Severus approached it as one might approach a trap.
The man staring back at him caused his mind to stutter.
Same face shape. Same hooked nose. Same dark eyes that suggested disappointment was his default setting.
But everything else had been… refined.
His hair was black and glossy, falling to his shoulders in soft waves instead of its usual exhausted broom-like state. His skin was pale but not sickly. His cheekbones were sharper. His jawline looked as though it had been carved by someone with opinions.
He wore a fine black shirt, open at the throat, tucked into trousers that had never known polyester.
Severus raised a hand. The reflection followed.
He stared himself in the eye and said, very softly, “No.”
If this was a prank, it was elaborate. If it was a dream, it was thorough. And if it was death, it was wildly theatrical.
A knock sounded.
Severus froze.
It came again, measured and patient. The knock of someone who understood exactly what sort of man lived behind this door and was prepared to wait him out.
A voice followed. Deep. Polished. The kind that did not ask permission so much as grant the illusion of it.
“My lord. It is morning.”
Severus’ stomach dropped.
-----
The Love Routes
James Potter
Lucius Malfoy
Sirius Black
Gilderoy Lockhart
Author's Note
Just know that this is me the whole time I was planning this story:
⚠️ Please be aware I might post the fic months. after posting here. There's no set timeline but I post it here to say it's cooking 🪄
⚠️ I'm trying to find the artists for all the pics I got from Pinterest. If you know them please put them in the comments.
⚠️🚨 This story seem very hard to write so it might take a while before I post this. It's my biggest challenge so far and I'm only on the planning stage. I also hate how I like what I'm planning for this fic. (｡•́︿•̀｡)
Status: Planning in Progress
This is based on Chapter 56 of My Jeverus/Snames prompts list.
my brain at 3am: (dramatically opens imaginary door) what if the plot was BIGGER *cue a billion ideas*
me: no
my brain: (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ but it will be soooo gooood
me: ...okay fine
And that's the reason for this update.
i'm currently going back and editing some chapters because my brain decided to expand the plot a little... maybe even more! bear with me while i make some changes from chapters 1-5🍳💛
