The world was cruel, and Harry knew this.

All his life, it felt like a knife had been slowly driven into his back. It began when he was a baby, orphaned and forced to be raised by his aunt and uncle. When he had cried, they had beaten him. When he was happy, they locked him away. For the longest time, he watched as his older cousin got the fairer share, even though he deserved none of it. Harry didn't much care to have nice clothes or first pick of desert. All he wanted for the longest time was someone to love him. Someone to listen to him, praise him. Instead, he grew up very lonely and unwanted.

Those were the days; when all he wanted was a little love. It seemed so long ago, and it was just so complicated now.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry's eyes jolted up from his desk. The quill in his hand was steadily moving, scribbling in big, loopy swirls over his notes. He didn't know how long he had been daydreaming, but by the looks of it, it had been a while.

Professor Snape did not look pleased. He never did when it came to Harry unless Harry was in trouble. His mouth was drawn in a disgusted sneer, his eyes narrow in concentration.

Knowing that he was about to be told off, Harry put his quill down and kept his gaze up at his professor.

Snape glanced down at his paper. "After class, Mr. Potter. We will discuss your lack of attention then." Snape turned on his heel and marched back to the front of the classroom to continue the lesson, deftly ignoring the other students from their snickering and putting an abrupt halt to it by turning sharply and throwing an ice cold glare over the room. "Open books to chapter seven."

As Harry fished out his book and began to read, he couldn't help but look over the pages to find Snape watching him with cold, stony black eyes.

Lately, Snape was always watching.

Harry didn't know why Snape watched him so earnestly. He knew that he wasn't liked by the professor for reasons he wasn't sure of. What he did know was that getting such special attention put a chill through his spine, made an itch at his stomach. The looks he received from the potions master were cold, and he knew that there was something he had to watch for. Was Professor Snape out to catch him for something? Expel him?

Harry's eyes drifted up from his book, only to find Snape staring at him again. Snape was staring like he knew something Harry didn't. Like there was some wrong that in the fact Harry existed at all. He continued staring all through the entire class. It had become obvious to everyone else in the room. Even the other students who were to be studying quietly without distraction knew that Snape was glaring at Harry Potter with unprecedented attention.

The room began to darken as if the sun was disappearing into nothingness. The ice in Snape's stare lowered the room degree by degree until a cloak or two started being put around chilly shoulders.

"Class dismissed," Snape announced, his gaze never wandered from Harry even with all the bustle of the other students fleeing the classroom and its eerie atmosphere.

"Mr. Potter," Snape sneered at Harry once the class had gone. "This is a classroom. You are expected to listen and learn, not stare off into space. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Because I will not waste my time lecturing to your ears if they are not willing to listen." Snape turned to the cabinet full of potions. "As this is not your first time with this sort of behavior, you will perhaps learn a valuable lesson in paying attention if you are to clean and re-catalog all the potions in alphabetical order." Snape finally dropped his gaze and began taking bottles down onto his desk as he spoke. "I expect them to all be neat, the labels legible, and I expect nothing to be spilled or wasted. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Harry nodded again.

"And you are not leaving this room until your task is completed unless I give you permission. Is that also clear?"

"Yes, Professor."

Snape stopped what he was doing; narrowing his eyes a little more. After a moment of silence, he tapped his wand loudly on his thigh. "Get to it."

And Harry did.

It had been hard work. Keeping the potions intact and together was difficult enough. But there was the added complication that more than a few of the potions old labels had worn away or were in another language and used different characters than he knew. During his work, Snape had managed to find more bottles hidden in other cabinets and shelves, giving Harry even more to do.

But he was careful, just as he was instructed. He did not drop a potion or waste a spec. He merely kept going quietly, steadily. All the while feeling the burn of eyes on his back.

He missed supper by the time he was done. He was not hungry though.

He wiped his hands free of dust, turning to face Snape for further instruction.

Snape stood, folding his hands behind his back as he walked up to the cabinet. He examined Harry's work carefully; blowing a puff of air onto a shelf to watch the dust rise. When none come from his breath's wake, he dismissed Harry with a twist of his hand.

Harry did not need further instruction.