Severus Snape rubbed his temples as he took in the chaos unfolding before him in Meereen. This was not how he had imagined spending his afterlife. Falling down a moving staircase at Hogwarts and ending up in Essos was certainly not on his bucket list. And finding himself in the middle of a barbaric fantsy world made it all the more unbearable.

Sighing heavily, Snape adjusted his black robes and approached the city, where people were whispering frantically about another mishap caused by one of Daenerys' dragons. He looked at the scaly creatures in the air with disdain, muttering to himself, "Merely oversized lizards… what a disappointment."

Feeling the need to sort out the mess, Snape decided to appoint himself as the unlikely royal psychologist. After all, he was an expert in daunting situations and dealing with troubled individuals. If he could survive being the head of Slytherin House, he could certainly handle this hormonal, power-hungry teenager.

Being Snape, he was fully aware that the queen would not easily accept his assistance. So, he adopted a subtle yet effective approach. He sent his loyal owl, not named Pigwidgeon because that just would not be befitting of his current predicament, to deliver a handwritten note to Daenerys:

"Your Grace, I, Severus Snape, Youngest Potion Master in History, hereby offer my esteemed services as your Royal Psychologist. I have observed from the sidelines the unfortunate events unraveling in your court. Please consider accepting my counsel, for I am remarkably skilled in the art of nurturing troubled minds.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape, a man who has seen worse than a few fire-breathing lizards."

Snape knew he had piqued her curiosity with that last line.

Days passed, and his owl delivered no response. Snape grew increasingly frustrated and sought solace in his own sarcasm. He grumbled, "Well, clearly, she thinks she's too good for me, doesn't she? Perhaps she believes someone like Jorah Mormont could fix her problems. Ha!"

Just as Snape was about to give up hope, a messenger arrived summoning him to the Queen's presence. Snape straightened his robes, fixed his sneer into a confident expression, and prepared himself for what was sure to be an entertaining encounter.

He entered Daenerys' chambers, where she sat on an ostentatious throne, brooding like he used to at the Hogwarts staff meetings. With a dramatic flourish, Snape bowed low and said, "Your Grace, you have summoned me. How may I be of assistance?"

Daenerys eyed him skeptically. "You are the infamous Severus Snape, I presume?"

He straightened up, his black eyes glittering dangerously. "Infamous? I believe the word you're looking for is 'iconic.'"

Daenerys raised an eyebrow but decided to play along. "Very well, Lord Snape, enlighten me. What words of wisdom do you have for quuen with dragons, unsatisfactory advisors, and a city full of chaos?"

Snape smirked. "Firstly, dragons may be awe-inspiring, but their tantrums are nothing compared to those of potions students during Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch games. Secondly, advisors are overrated. Trust no one but yourself. And as for chaos, well, have you ever tried teaching a bunch of bumbling dunderheads who can't tell the difference between a bezoar and a bubotuber?"

Daenerys was taken aback by Snape's blunt advice, unable to decide if he was genuinely helpful or just incredibly odd. Perhaps a bit of both.

From that day forward, Snape became both court psychologist and reluctant comedian, offering unconventional solutions to Daenerys' problems. While he couldn't quite fix everything, he did manage to bring a touch of dark humor to her life.

And so, in the golden halls of Mereen, a begrudging alliance was formed—one between the Mother of Dragons and the Eminent Severus Snape, both misunderstood and far removed from the worlds they originated from.

Together, they faced the challenges of ruling, laughed at the absurdity of it all, and occasionally shared a glass of overly sweet mead. It might not have been the perfect situation, but at least it offered some relief from the bleakness of this parallel universe.

And as Snape watched Daenerys attempt to train her (in his mind) unexceptional dragons, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was making a difference in this world. Or maybe he was just making it even more absurd. Either way, he found himself strangely content in the midst of chaos.

*Author note: neither the Game of Thrones franchise, nor the Harry Potter universe belong to me. And neither does GPT, for that matter.