Braeden's stomach would not stop growling.
He'd woken up late that morning and missed breakfast, and though lunch time was coming soon, he didn't have the patience to wait. Neither did he want to walk all the way over to the Great Hall (even though it was right there) and be forced to eat whatever was being served that day. Braeden was a growing boy and growing boys had specific tastes, and if Brae wanted something specific… he'd have to go meet the elves personally.

However, he hadn't been to the kitchens since last semester, and he couldn't remember exactly which painting it was he was supposed to tickle and which fruit specifically… Gah. He just remembered it was a green fruit. Walking up and down the corridor, the boy tickled every painting he passed by, oblivious to the strange looks he received from the little first years passing by and the other portraits hanging on the walls.