Harry Potter was used to being stared at.

He had a variety of reasons for it. His hair was very messy and wayward. He had a very large lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Before, whenever he was seen next to his relations, it was always commented that he looked very different compared to them in all sorts of ways: physical body shape and demeanor. One of his favorite things to do in the world also garnered him a lot of attention, mostly positive thankfully.

Since learning that he was a wizard, as in actual magic and not figurative, the staring and the attention did not change at all. Whenever someone from the Wizarding World learned of his name, they would stop and stare at him too. Like in the Muggle world, what the magical or Wizarding one called the non-magical one, the staring could vary in intensity and interest, though it seemed people in the magical one were interested in his name as much as his appearance.

That did not mean he enjoyed it however. Sitting here in his Potions class, being stared at by his fellow students and the professor, was not enjoyable at all.

There was a tiny difference this time. This time he was doing something that he did not think would be so stare-worthy, and apparently it was.

"I said, what are you doing, Potter," Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions professor said. He was tall and thin, towering over Harry. His eyes were very intense, almost unkind. Something Harry was unsure if he was imagining or not.

"I was…tasting the ingredients, Sir," Harry said sheepishly.

Snickers and outright laughter could be heard from half of the students, while the other stared at him with frank disbelief.

"Tasting them," Snape repeated in a tone of contempt. "And why would you be doing that?"

Harry coughed. "Well, uh, I read that some of the materials were similar to non-magical ingredients. The glass chives came from the same plant family as regular chives. And the water ginger is another kind of ginger. So I was curious to see if they tasted the same."

Snape's frown made him look even more displeased. In this case however, his frown was not from displeasure. At least not solely from displeasure. There was confusion in it as well. "Your book should not be describing the ingredients in that fashion, not yet."

"I bought an extra book when I was at the store, when I was getting my supplies." Harry squirmed a little from the scrutiny. "The book describes ingredients and talks about the way they relate to Muggle plants and what can be used for either of them."

"I know of it. It is not on your book list. What possessed you to purchase it?" Snape asked, growing more confused and just a little curious.

"It looked interesting and it seemed useful for something I like to do," Harry said quietly.

"Which is?" Snape prompted.

"I like to cook," Harry said at last. "And I was curious if the magical plants tasted like the Muggle ones."

A snort of derision could be heard on either side of the classroom, prompting more snickers and whispered comments. Snape's eyes flicked to the side and then back to Harry. "You like to cook," he repeated slowly.

"Yes Sir." Harry shrugged weakly. "I thought I'd like potions because it would be a lot like cooking."

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment, his face curiously blank. "The sooner you realize that brewing potions is not the same as cooking, the better," he said at last. "For example, in cooking, tasting the ingredients in a certain order is less likely to poison you than in potion making."

Harry gulped, as did a lot of the other students.

"Next time I watch you doing so, I will continue to watch," Snape said softly. "Am I clear?"

Harry nodded.

"That goes for all of you," Snape said, addressing the class. "Do not eat or taste the ingredients." He waited for the chorus of replies to fade. "As you were," he said and continued on.

Harry looked down at the desk, face red with embarrassment. The whispers continued, everyone staring. Snape continued to look at Harry with a complicated expression before a violently bubbling cauldron drove the incident from his mind.