Imagine an eleven year old Harry Potter, fresh from the greenhouses and his first Herbology class, secretly covered in snakes under his robes. They’re just so nice, it can’t hurt to carry them around and keep them warm. They know their way around the school better than him, anyways.
Enter Professor Snape, starting his first class of Griffindor first year Potions.
“Cloaks and robes off, you will be utilizing open flames; loose, draping fabric will catch fire and send you to the hospital wing.”
Harry and a few other students keeps theirs on, trying to blend into the walls. It does not work.
“ROBES AND CLOAKS OFF. Quickly. You are wasting valuable class time.”
Harry removes his, very reluctantly. His arms and legs wriggle with garden snakes.
“Mr. Potter, what the fuck.”
“They’re my friends, professor.”
Snape walks up to Harry, helping get some of these creatures off of him.
“Why are you crawling with snakes, Mr. Potter?”
“They’re so nice, Professor Snape. Plus they told me the fastest way to your class.”
“You speak to snakes?”
“Always have, yeah.”
Snape realizes he is in no way paid enough to deal with this.