prettysure: (confident)
[personal profile] prettysure
Being a prefect had always seemed to Gwen like the proverbial double-edged sword: On the one hand, the additional responsibilities provided unique opportunities she might not otherwise have. She particularly liked, for instance, assisting the first years when she had been in fifth, and being in charge of the regular Ravenclaw study group. On the other, the position came with a less-than-ideal reputation, and some very tedious tasks. Her first year as a prefect, she'd absolutely loathed going on patrols, despite that Charles Xavier wasn't bad company; nobody wanted to be caught out of bounds, and when the halls were clear, all she could think of was how much time she was wasting.

Now, two years later and Head Girl, evening patrols were one of the favorite parts of her week. Over the last three years, she'd earned respect for being firm yet fair with her authority, and had learned that crime didn't always merit a punishment. She didn't dread finding someone doing something wrong, but had rather easily slipped into a leadership role as she'd gotten older, like a big sister to the entire school. And the boring parts? Those were a blissful break from an academic and social schedule that kept her hopping all week long.

The night was clear and crisp, fall beginning to give way to winter, and the halls had been mostly quiet. Hands tucked in her robe, she cast a sidelong glance to Steve beside her as they strolled through the halls, their footfalls softly echoing off the old stone.

"It's weird, isn't it, the way things change when you get older?" she asked with a curious cant of her head. "I used to hate this. Now it's the best part of my day."

Date: 2014-07-15 03:20 pm (UTC)
captain_rogers: (007)
From: [personal profile] captain_rogers
His lips quirked up in his amusement, though he nodded in agreement. "You do remember I grew up with Muggles, right?" He asked her, his tone lifting into something light and teasing. Being a half-blood hadn't mattered much to any in his House, the topic one that was more likely to bring curiosity or increasingly outlandish questions on all things Muggle. Where the rest of the school could fall one way or another, from a few of the Slytherins at one extreme with vicious joy taken in humiliating him in his younger years to Ravenclaw classmates who thought to use him as a handy resource for their Muggle Studies classes, but the 'Puffs had never looked at him twice for it.

"Not that I've ever been part of any decorating committees, but you can't help but be in the thick of it when December rolls around." The months he spent away from Hogwarts had become ones he buried himself in short term jobs, saving up any and all money he could for his and Bucky's plan to find a place for themselves once they were out of school, but those had never included the winter months and so he could not claim to have worked wrapping gifts or working a retail job dealing with post-holiday returns. Still, he had been fascinated by the glitz and gaudiness of the holidays. Hard not to when the holiday had been presented up as the things dreams were made of, complete with images of full, happy families enjoying themselves.

All worlds away from the orphanage and surly nuns and cold Christmases.