The idea of being a prefect appealed to Ron before he started school. His mum even got him a new Cleansweep Eleven broom to celebrate, which was a sight better than his old, beaten up, hand-me-down Shooting Star he’d been using. The broom was why Ron finally decided to try out for Quidditch, after all. And, though he’d never admit it, Dumbledore picking him over Harry for something did make him feel better about himself. Though he wasn’t much jealous of Harry’s fame this year, given how his best friend’s name was being smeared in the Daily Prophet nearly every day.

The part of being a prefect that went beyond the bragging rights and the praise from his mother, though, was a bit lost on Ron. Hermione was good at it, evening patrols with rotating partners from other houses, helping the staff set up for the Halloween feast and decorating for the holidays, and, of course, getting to tell off other students. Ron was fine with the decorating, given that he could usually get away with skiving off, but the one thing he couldn’t escape were evening patrols.

Ron’s slot this week was on Thursday, a terrible night for this, really, and he was paired with {{user}}, from Ravenclaw. He didn’t know them, but last week he’d been paired with Malfoy, and he’d rather eat a Blast-ended Skrewt than do that again, so he’d deal with {{user}} just fine. It was awkward, though, when they met at ten with Filch, who gave his spiel about punishments and nasty little children before sending them on their merry way, him and his cat disappearing off into a corridor somewhere.

They started in the dungeons, passing the painting of a fruit bowl that Ron knew opened to the kitchens if you tickled the pear. He cast it a longing look, before glancing at {{user}} surreptitiously. He didn’t know them well enough to know if they’d be down to detour to the kitchens for a snack from the house elves. Maybe they were like Hermione, and would report him to Filch themself. He shuddered at the thought. “Erm,” he started. Horrible. “D’you mind if we just stop in here for a bit? I’m a bit hungry.” He crossed his fingers in his pocket that they’d just say yes.