Harry Potter Preferences

XII. You Catch Him Staring

Harry: (fourth year)

Poor Harry. After being rejected by Cho for the Ball, and embarrassed himself by drooling juice down his front, he had no one to turn to. Except you, of course. After he told you his troubles, you were talking to Harry, offering him advice on what to do. Although, Harry didn't realize it, and neither did you (yet), but he was staring at you. Your lips, your eyes, you nose...you were gorgeous. "HARRY!" you shouted at him.

Harry shook his head. "I'm listening."

You looked at him for a moment, then began to talk again. I can't believe she caught me staring, Harry thought. First Cho, and now (y/n). What is wrong with me this year?

Ron: (fourth year)

It was, again, at dinner. Ron had developed a MAJOR crush on you. You were peacefully eating your dinner and chatting with Luna, when she whispered, "That boy is staring at you."

You turned, and sure enough, Ron was staring at you. He seemed to be in kind of a trance, and when he realized you had caught him staring, his head slipped from his palm and into his mashed potatoes. He desperately attempted to hide his burning face. You laughed, and your laugh was enough to make Ron sigh.

Draco: (third year)

"I can't believe it! Sirius Black was actually inside the castle! IN the Gryffindor Tower! Ron was lucky he didn't die! You know what, I'm going to go hunt down the filthy murderer myself---"

Draco was listening, but not exactly. He was staring at your eyes, how they sometimes had this glint in them as if you were about to punch someone, and then your nose, and the amount of freckles on it, then your lips. Your lips looked really pretty, especially when you started to wear lip gloss...

"DRACO!"

He jumped. "Um, yes?"

You glared at him. "Why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not ignoring you, I'm..." Draco tried to express what he was doing into words.

"Yeah, staring at me. I noticed."

Fred: (fifth year)

"No, this is how you do it."

You gently tugged the blade away from Fred and showed him how to cut the gillyweed. Snape had put you in pairs for this potion, and you were paired with Fred. Fred watched you for the first minute, then began to stare at you, his head propped up with his fist. First he stared at your eyes...they were so pretty...then your concentrated face...he thought it looked cute...then your lips...they looked so damn kissable...

"Uh, Fred?" you asked, jerking the redhead out of his reverie.

"I'm here!" he said in an unnaturally high-pitched voice.

Snape narrowed his eyes and glared at the pair of you. "Silence."

You rolled your eyes at Fred. "You heard me about detention. If you get me in it one more time, I will start a prank war you never thought imaginable. And I intend to win."

"Okay. Whatever you say, love."

George: (fifth year)

"George."

"George."

"George!"

"GEORGE!"

"Hm, what?"

Fred facepalmed himself. "You're staring at her again."

"You would be too if you saw how pretty she was. Gorgeous, in fact."

You were sitting down the table, around seven people away from George.

"George, she's going to think you're stalking her."

"(y/n)'s not that stupid. She's just so pretty."

You looked up and noticed George staring at you. You wiggled your fingers at him. George was caught by surprise and fell of the bench he was sitting on. You tried to hide your laugh, but Fred burst out laughing.

"Man, Georgie, you've got it bad."

Neville: (fifth year)

Neville watched you fill in the chart on the parts of a Venomous Tentacula. Your handwriting was so delicate and neat, and he loved how your tongue stuck out slightly when you were concentrated. Wow, Neville thought. She really is pretty. I wonder if she has a boyfriend? Wait, Neville, don't think like that! Plus, you've known her for ages, she would've told you if she was dating someone. But maybe I---

"Neville? Please tell me you're not being Imperiused or something," you said, poking him in the shoulder.

"Right, sorry. Carry on."

Oliver: (fourth year)

"Oh, Merlin, Oliver," you laughed as your best friend attempted to hang upside down on his broom as you did. "Bad idea, bad idea! Go closer to the ground! Ooh..." You groaned as Oliver fell four feet of his broomstick.

"Ouch," he said, and rubbed his elbow.

"Anything broken?" you asked concernedly.

"I don't think so. (y/n), a baby injury isn't going to hurt me." He puffed out his chest. You laughed. "Yeah, right. Come on, let's play."

You tossed the Quaffle into the air and flew to catch it. Oliver took his post as Keeper. You were doing all these sorts of cool tricks, and Oliver found himself staring at you. He loved that steely glint in your eye when you played Quidditch, which usually meant you weren't going to show any mercy. He liked watching your hair, the way it flowed when you were flying fast through the air, and your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly...

"OLIVER!"

Oliver jumped and saved the Quaffle just in time before it went into the hoop, and threw it back to you.

"Wow. The boy can manage to stare at his best friend and saves the Quaffle every time."

'Sup.

I'm sorry some are long, some are short, but I did my best. 

~ Mik

{ahaha I'm still laughing at myself}