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Connected to the Armour Gallery, the Trophy Room is where all awards, trophies, cups, plates, shields, statues, and medals are put on display behind crystal glass. Dating back centuries are the numerous achievements that have been made by those who've walked within these walls. When the sunlight shines through the windows and hits the glass just right, the items and names within glimmer and shine oh so bright.
Hundreds of names can be read here, ranging from the great Harry Potter, teachers and ministers of the past, many of today's famous Quidditch players, and more. Carefully looking at all of the names on each individual nameplate, some of you just might even find your parents' names here. Feel free to admire and strive to get your name listed somewhere in this room before you graduate. Just don't press your fingers against the glass or think about having a late-night duel here. You will be sitting here every night for detention until each trophy and plaque in sight is polished to perfection if you do.
PHILOMATH ❅ not one atom, but two ♪ ♪ made of starstuff ❅ def main():
In the spirit of learning things, Sylvie had decided that today was the day for some history. Not, Thrall forbid, her actual History of Magic essay which was due in three days and which she fully intended to paraphrase from Tayo. Who likely paraphrased from Chris. She couldn't ask Chris to copy herself because he'd be disappointed in her and Sylvie really didn't want that to happen. She figured Chris' essay would get an O, Tayo's would get an E and she was completely fine with an A. A's used to be super good before Hogwarts came along.
Anyways.
Sylvie had overheard people talking about old school leaders who were the parents of students in the school today, which was wild in her opinion. It's this little bit of eavesdropping that brought the fourth year to the trophy room after lunch, and she curiously peered at the names of all the different trophies. How cool if she'd find a name that sh- Chosen?? Was that Faith's MUM?!
OH OH. MONTMORENCY! COOL.
__________________
yeah I like tеlling stories________________________
but I don't have to write them in ink_____ _____________I could still change the end
Pips looked around for the studentsies, spying nones Pips began to dust. “Pips dust, dust dust,” Pips mumbled under breath. Must clean all the trophieses. Of all places to clean this is Pips favorite, so many great studentsies to remember from years past. *sigh* *hiccup*
Trophy Room 
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