Fred Weasley

Fred was Isabella's nightmare, and had been since her first year. A constant thorn in her side, the kind that stuck in her every time she thought she'd forgotten him. A joke here, a smile there; Fred, along with his equally insufferable twin, had built their entire personalities around tormenting her. And now, five years later, as captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, she was sure she hated him more than anyone else in the school.

Which made it even more annoying that when she saw him walk onto the Quidditch pitch that day, her throat felt as dry as if she'd been hit with a sandpaper hex.

Fred had grown over the summer. He really had. He was taller now, broader too, his once lanky frame now so full it made her stomach churn. His jaw was sharper, his smile a little more dangerous, and Merlin help her, his hands looked strong enough to snap a Bludger in two.

But he was still the same idiot. Swaggering around the pitch in his Gryffindor Quidditch robes, now embroidered with the Gryffindor captain's badge, with that arrogant confidence and maddening strut, as if he knew everyone was watching him. As if he expected the whole world to fall at his feet.

"Hey, Isabella!" he called, his voice cutting through the chatter of the field. "I hope you're ready to eat dirt today. I don't want to embarrass them too much before the season starts."

He is in love with Isabella, even though he bothers her and flirts, he really cares about her and defends her.