One Direction | Preferences

Hogwarts AU

Louis: ”Sod off Tomlinson,” you groaned, rolling your eyes to his direction. He was wearing his Quidditch robes, a golden number and his last name printed to the red fabric when he stood in front of the goal posts, smirk covering his face, “Don’t make me curse you.” He grinned, flashing his perfectly white teeth to you when he licked his plump lips, eyeing you up and down with his blue eyes, “Just wanted to come and say that it was a good game, pity that you didn’t win this time.” He had stretched his hand out for you to shake but you nudged it off. You didn’t know what to think about the gesture. He was a golden Gryffindor after all, and you were a proud Slytherin. “I quite figured,” Louis grinned when you had eyed his hand furiously before turning your back to him. His grin widened when you reached down to open the loops what kept your robes on, revealing your smooth neck. His heart was beating louder than after he had nearly got hit by a bludger in the game just twenty minutes ago. His water blue eyes stared your neck, noticing every freckle and loose hair what had got off from your high ponytail. His eyes roamed down your slender neck to your muscly shoulders and strong hands what were getting stronger every time you hit a bludger with your beater’s bat. His eyes stayed at your waist, admiring the curve your robes showed just a little for him to see. “Staring much, Tomlinson?” you snapped, making him lift his eyes up to yours with such a Gryffindor courage it made you roll your eyes. “I confess,” he answered cheekily, running his hands through his dark brown hair, leaving it stand up ridiculously. It made your heart beat a bit faster, but you bit your lip, knowing that he was your enemy. A bloody Gryffindor. “So, what do you say?” Louis smirked, eyes squinting when he leaned to one of the goal posts with such an mischievous attitude it made your raise your eyebrows, “Hogsmeade, you, me, this weekend?” You sighed, rolling your eyes when a small blush covered your cheeks, “Didn’t you take the hint when you asked the last seventy eight times?” Louis’ smirk didn’t fade when he shrugged, playing with his sleeve with his freakishly small hands. You looked at him, a bit frustrated that he had put you this position once again. You didn’t want to be the house traitor. Slythering despised Gryffindor, everyone knew it, but now your mid was far from contempt. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t care,” you said through clenched teeth, seeing how Louis’ face broke to a smile that was almost as big as professor Slughorn’s after the Louis and his ‘marauder mate’ James Potter had slipped Amortentia to his pumpkin juice. “Great,” Louis grinned, making you blush even more, it was embarrassing and humiliating, “I’ll see you at four in front of the Honeydukes.” You shrugged; trying to say something snarky for return, but you had nothing. “Fine,” you huffed, taking your broom from the ground and bumping it ‘accidentally’ against Louis’ pelvis, “But if you tell anyone, I’ll make sure the bludger doesn’t miss your ass next time.”

Liam: You sighed deeply, running your hand through your tousled hair. You had been in the library about six hours, trying to work out the transfiguration essay professor McGonagall had given you. It wasn’t easy to prepare yourself for OWL’s when all your time went for a normal homework. “Oh sweet Merlin, help me,” you groaned to yourself, wanting to slam your face against the wooden desk. You could smell the dinner all the way to the library, but if you’d leave, you’d be in the library to the next morning. “Aren’t Ravenclaw’s supposed to be smart,” a chuckling voice asked from behind you, making you jump a bit. You hadn’t hear any footsteps. “Excuse me but-..,” you frowned, shutting your mouth when you noticed the Slytherin perfect standing next to your table, arms full of books. “Sorry,” you mumbled, shaking your head when he smiled a little, brown eyes squinting when he sat next to you, filling the only open spot in the library. “It’s fine, I just asked,” he chuckled again, smiling a little when he adjusted his green-silver tie so it wouldn’t choke him. “You’re in fifth, right?” he asked friendly, making your eyes widen when you looked at him. He wasn’t proud or arrogant like almost every other Slytherin there was, his brown eyes were kind but ambitious, brown hair combed up with hair gel he stole from Malfoy, lips stretched to a perfectly friendly smile… “Yeah,” you squeaked, looking down to your books, praying that he wouldn’t notice how curious you were. You had heard some legends about a seven year perfect getting along with everyone, but it was just a legend, well at least you thought it was. “Yeah, nasty year, I remember that essay, took me forever,” he said smiling, scratching his neck with long fingers, revealing a birthmark just above his shirt collar. A breath hitched to your throat when you tried a put a smile to your face, “I feel like I’ve been doing this forever…I just can’t get a good ending to it.” The Slytherin boy smiled again, nodding to your essay, “Is that it? Can I read it?” You gulped, feeling suddenly light headed; You were in library with seventh year Perfect who was even more handsome than Cedric had been… “Merlin’s beard, seven parchments? I guess you are a Ravenclaw after all,” he grinned, shaking his head a bit, “Don’t worry, McGonnagall’s going to love this, it’s great.” You smiled, nodding when the brown eyed boy looked at you, flashing a playful smile. “So, fifth year Ravenclaw, what’s your name?”