Zara woke with the morning as the sun defiled her sleep with it's white light. She didn't often had days when she could sleep in but today had been the day so of course everything would go opposite to her plan. She wallowed for sometime, feeling bad for her poor luck before she finally got out of bed. She changed clothes quickly and before long she was walking around the castle. Before long she had found herself where she had often found herself ever since she had pried out the information from Lennon that there was a trophy dedicated to the father they had never known. For some reason it enraptured Zara in a way that nothing else did and so the girl carefully opened the case and held the trophy in two hands, starring at her father's name. He would not have been much older than her at the point of winning this with his Quidditch team and the thought made her feel sick to her stomach. However so much around Zara's relationship was filled with duality and this was no different, looking at his name scribed onto the gold plating made her smile as she thought of what her dad must have been like. The stories she'd heard about him, good and bad, were hard to put together a whole person but she tried as she sat there wondering to herself, glad to be able to do this alone as she sat on the floor of the room.