On the evening of her death, Lilly Potter casted an ancient charm on baby Harry, which would help lead him to finding his soul mate once he became sixteen. Now sporting the charm as a magical heart tattoo on his chest, Harry does indeed find his mat...
Harry approached the Potions classroom with apprehension, not because he dreaded the detention, Harry understood that he deserved the punishment for interrupting and leaving class, he would have been more surprised if he didn't get detention, but because he was dreading the teacher who gave the detention. Professor Snape had always been a big question mark in his head ever since his first Potions class when he was drilled with questions and trivia that any other first year would understandably not know, aside from Hermione of course. Why did the man hate him so much? What did Harry ever do to him, other then being a clueless first year? Looking back at the rest of his six years at Hogwarts, he knew of instances where the Professor seemed overprotective with him and his friends, but there were almost the same amount of times, if not more, where the man went out of his way to be extra cruel towards them. Harry couldn't figure out what Snape's agenda was, so Harry tried to tread as careful as he could with the man. Too bad that his first panic attack in public had to be in first hour Potions.
As he prepared to knock on the closed classroom door, his other hand grabbed the top of the fanny bag protectively. Nagini must have sensed his building anxiety because his hand was met with a pushing pressure from inside the bag, causing his hand to slip into the opening. His worries automatically began to decrease when warm scales met his skin and he looked down and saw Nagini's head just below the zipper, caressing his hand.
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(I forgot to add a picture of a fanny pack for reference for anyone not born in the 80s or 90s. It was all the craze back then.)
~You're going to be OK dear. I'm right here. Nothing to worry about.~
~Thanks Nagini. He just makes me nervous.~
~Trust me, I know. He's an odd character but I won't let him hurt you. But I wouldn't dawdle much longer. The man has a temper.~
~For sure.~ Harry agreed as he removed his hand from the bag, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
"Enter."
Harry opened the door with fake courage and was met by a fierce glare from behind the teachers desk. He entered the classroom, closed the door behind him, and met his teacher's gaze.
"Ah, Potter. So you have finally decided to grace me with your presence. Are you going to run away in tears this time?"
"Sir, I wasn't cry-"
"The details don't matter, Potter. What matters is that you disrespected myself, my classroom, and my craft with your emotional teenage behavior. Now, go wash all the cauldrons, by hand, until I can see my face in its reflection. No magic."
"Yes sir."
Harry hung his head in defeat as he trudged towards the back of the classroom where the wash basins were and began filling one of the basins with hot, soapy water. As he began washing the first pot, a wave of soap suds sloshed towards his waist, splashing the front and zipper area of the fanny pack.
