Harry Potter Imagines and Preferences

how you meet

Harry

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You scampered up the train, finding everywhere to be choc-a-block. You were new to the wizarding world and didn't know anyone here, which was particularly daunting given how shy you were in the muggle world as it was.
You sighed with great relief when you finally found a booth with some empty space, in which were two boys munching away on mountains of sweets.
You cleared your throat, "Sorry to bother you.
The boys looked up at you, "but I can't seem to find anywhere else to sit, do you mind if I sit here. I won't be a bother."
"No problem," the boy in glasses smiled.
"We could use some help eating all of this," the ginger one followed.
You smiled back and sat in the free space beside the one with glasses.
You sat for a second before the ginger boy held out his hand, "Ron Weasley."
You shook it. It was slightly sticky, "y/n y/l/n."
"And I'm Harry," the boy beside you said, "Harry Potter."
His hand was much less sticky.

Ron

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You met in Potions class when the two of you were seated beside one another.
Your father was practicing what is called anti-favouritism, whereby he sat you as far away as humanly possible from your new friends, and with people he thought you wouldn't get along with.

"That's wrong, it's 4 drops of rose water, not 5. You'll blow us all up if you're not careful," you corrected the boy part way through the lesson.
"Another little miss know-it-all," he sighed, "I get enough of this from Hermione."
"I find Hermione quite pleasant, actually," you replied, "she's a smart witch."
You put the rest of the ingredients in your cauldron without looking at the book in front of you.
"How do you know so bloody much about potions?"
You panicked, "uhh... I just listen in class like I should be."
"You listen to this bloke. He's more scary than anything."
You couldn't help but laugh a little, and he shortly joined in.
Suddenly Snape's attention switched to the two of you.
"Weasley, y/l/n." He said slowly, " Is something amusing you."
"No, professor, sorry professor," the boy said, obvious fear in his tone.
"Focus," Snape said before turning his head back round again.
"My point exactly," the boy whispered, turning to face you, "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."
"Nice to meet you Ron, I'm y/n y/l/n."

Draco

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To transferred to Hogwarts in fourth year, which wasn't exactly ideal. Eveyone else knew each other like the back of their hand and you were just plopped in all of a sudden. You felt especially out of place when the Sorting Hat decided you were to be in Slytherin. You had done your research on this place, and you knew Slytherin was home to some of the most disastrous and evil wizards and witches of the age. You figured you didn't fit the characteristics, so took some of your favourite muggle books to Hogwarts along with you, just for a sense of comfort and familiarity in the new world. You realised this was a grave mistake after ending up in Slytherin.
You had only just made your way into the common room when you heard sniggering behind you.
"Look who it is," one of them said, "Slytherin's own mudblood."
You turned to see a tall blonde boy with two figures either side of him.
At the sight of your face the blonde boy seemed to freeze for a second, as if he was questioning what he was doing, but he quickly snapped back into character.
"Crabbe."
The boy to his right grabbed the bag from your hand and pulled out y/f/b.
"A muggle book," he scowled.
The blonde boy furrowed his eyebrows, "what business to you have bringing that shit in here, mudblood."
He made sure he emphasised the word 'mud-blood', like it was a curse.
You snatched the bag back from Crabbe and flung it over your shoulder, "none of your business, that's for sure."
You walked off towards your dorm, leaving the blonde boy speechless.

George

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You were almost done shopping at Diagon Alley, meaning you were laden with books and bags. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, so there was little more you could do than just carry it all. You were almost at the end of the road when your owl got loose and began to flap off in the other direction.
You started to run back up the spindly road after him, weaving your way through the crowds as fast as your tired legs could carry you.
"Come back you bloody bird!" You called.
Just when you thought you were getting close, you were sent tumbling to the ground, bags and all.
"I'm so sorry, miss, you sort of came out of nowhere," a voice said.
You rubbed your head and looked up to see a ginger-haired boy around your age, also slightly grubby from being on the floor, holding out his hand to help you up.
You accepted his hand and were soon on your feet. He was so gentle with you it was quite charming.
"I should be the one saying sorry. It's my blasted owl, he..."
You began to apologise, but your owl- as if playing a cruel joke- swooped down and landed on your shoulder.
The ginger boy laughed, "quite the trickster, that one."
"You could say that."
The boy bent down to pick up your bags, "need a hand?"
You were going to say no out of pure guilt, but this guy was sweet and... well, pretty cute too.
"Thank you so much," you said, smiling, "how can I repay you?"
He raised his eyebrows cheekily, "we can sort that out later."

Fred

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Your family were good friends with the Weasleys, being part of the Order if the Pheonix and all. Being born barely a year apart, you had grown up with Fred and George as sort of older, protective brothers. There is little story to tell as you met them as an infant. All the fun stuff happens later ;)