Harry Potter Preferences 0.1

He Realises He Loves You

Harry: You are a muggle-born Gryffindor, same year as him

Twas a sunny day. The first match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The lions were feeling quite confident but the snakes were exhaling pure arrogance. Harry had been warming up with Wood and the Weasley twins, knowing that you couldn't watch his game because of your sickness.

About two hours later, Madam Hooch whistled, therefore indicating the beginning of the match. The Boy Who Lived breathed the fresh air and kicked his broom up, heading towards the bright sky.

However, once he was at a good height, he almost fainted when he saw you in the bleachers. You were supposed to be resting in your bed, even with a large distance between you, he could still see your pale face and Hermione protectively leaning over your shoulder, pulling a warm jacket over your shoulders.

'Even when she's sick she wants to come and cheer for me,' he thought fondly, locking his emerald orbs with yours. 'Such a perfect girl, I really do love her.'

Neville: You are a pure-blood Hufflepuff, two years older

"How come you spend all your time in the Infirmary?" You ask exasperated, sighing as yet smiling as you waved your hand around his leg, applied a large dose of salve and bandaged it.

"It's not my fault if I'm always falling. I'm clumsy." He tells you, his ears red and his cheeks rosy.

You raise an eyebrow and shake your head. Neville apparently had tumbled and fallen from a second floor window, the fall wasn't that big but his leg twisted and he wouldn't be able to walk properly for a week at least.

You started to worry about him. Very much like Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom spent almost all his time in the Hospital Wing. And since you were assigned the first years through the fourth years, and he was a fourth year, you were assigned to him.

Little did you know he was watching you intently, with those big brown eyes of his. Neville let a smile form in his lips as you bandaged his leg, not even wincing as you applied pressure to it. Your hands were soft and barely even ghosted in his skin.

"Thanks (Y/N)." He gives you a silly grin and hops off the bed, careful not to put all his weight on his leg. "Love you!" He didn't mean to cry it out like that, but it slipped his lips. He tried to play it off by turning around and giving her a cheeky smile. Hoping she would think it was the effect of the numb spell she had cast on him.

"Yeah yeah, love you too Nev, now go to your class." You smile gently at him, and flick your wand across the bed sheets, cleansing the white tissue of the blood and salve.

Draco: You are a pure-blood Slytherin, one year younger

Draco frowned as his stomach churned at the sight of you entering the common room. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his eyes followed you to the stairs, where you disappeared into the girls dorms.

"Why were you staring at my sister?" Theodore asked him moodily, glaring daggers at the blonde through his dark brown eyes.

"Uh? I wasn't staring at your sister." He answered nervously.

"Were you staring at the wind then?" Blaise piped in, a sly smirk plastered on his lips.

"Shut up Zabini, I wasn't staring at anything." Draco snarled at the Italian but his focus was quickly diverted when you descended the stairs, two steps at a time, humming a lullaby and tightly gripping your black diary against your chest.

You glance at the boys, and your feet glue to the ground when (e/c) meets grayish blue and Draco tentatively smiles at you. You bite down your lip and feel your cheeks becoming dark scarlet. Theodore waves and you distractedly wave back, struggling to advert your gaze from the blonde pureblood.