David Windstrider
Mid term was most definitely not fun for a prefect. Lots of first and second years, pampered to the extreme and displaying that typical, involuntary egocentricity that only fades with age, were returning from their winter holidays, and David, as a prefect, had to put up with their endless supply for both energy and bad ideas. It was even worse for Slytherin youngsters, as their arrogance was simply nauseating, and you didn't know how it could get "political" if you subtracted points for transgression. All in all, it wasn't a happy time.
Up until 4 am, David had been patrolling the corridors for two second years that were up to no good. He eventually somehow ended up with even more work on his hands, as that number rose from two, to five, to ten. In the end, he did manage to catch them all, give the non-slytherin a good scare that would make them remember him for the rest of their lives, and gave the former essays to write on motivations for the existence of rules as glue to a society. At 4 am, David realized all the chasing around and ranting had kicked the tiredness out of him, and proceeded to pester Charles into waking up in the middle of the night and helping him at his new project - stretching his ability to wandlessly cast random charms.
Entering the great hall for breakfast, the two boys looked more like ghouls than living, breathing teenage boys. Separating to join their respective houses, David slumped into a seat and started filling up a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, the usual snark was going about around him about his friendship with Charles. Normally, he'd just retort snarkily back, but the last sleepless night had broken his nerve sufficiently that he had little interest in... anything, really. Taking a sip of the coffee, David straightened his back ever so slightly, eyes closed, concentrating on a simple heating charm he could cast wandlessly with moderate success on the beverage. That should make him feel relatively better in 15 minutes or so.