After the Divination lesson was over, Brooklyn had chosen to take her time in returning to the dungeons and putting Tywin in her dorm. It wasn’t as if having the cat with her was against the rules, so she wasn’t going to lose points. Not just for having a cat perched on her shoulder, although after a moment she’d reached up to shift him to her arms. He was getting kind of big to stay there. Her shoulder was getting sore, yet it still didn’t make her any more willing to just go lock him away anymore. She’d just carry him for a while, and as she’d walked down a corridor on the third floor, she found herself poking her head into one of the rooms. As the gleam of trophies met her eye, she’d turned to walk inside. There were a lot of shiny trophies in here, and plaques.

Lots of names she didn’t know, too, although she saw a few last names she recognized. Like the Slytherin prefect’s last name, except not in the Slytherin section. That was interesting. She saw a couple other names she recognized as she’d found herself over near the Claw section, too. Her aunts. That didn’t really surprise her one bit. “I could be a prefect too, right Tywin?,” she whispered down at the cat curled up in her arms. “I could be Head Girl.” That’d be even better, prove she could be even more special than they were.

Brutus Scrimgeour had hung in the Trophy Room since 1993 so he had seen many things. Lately all he was seeing was house elves dusting the trophies and not as many students anymore. This had been the way for several years it seemed. He was growing bored this term more then usual and was wanting someone to talk to.

The author of the beaters bible stood tall in his portrait naming the trophies over and over as he always did. Noticing some dust gathering over near the older trophies. Hmm was there an elf around or even a student to clean it?

Into the trophy room he went!

Gregoire wanted to explore every room in this castle! Last year, the fresh-from-Beauxbatons-French Slytherin didn't get a chance to loom around the Trophy Room. So while he could, the Snake seized this opportunity by it's hands, and leaped over a large gap of homework and classes! Walking around practically blindly, the boy stumbled upon a portrait. Gregoire wondered if this was one of the many talking portraits that were "residents" here at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland.

Looking at it with a curious, wide, blue eyed stare Gregoire questioned "Hello? Can you speak?" Even if it didn't, the dirty blonde wouldn't mind seeming crazy for a few seconds if anyone showed up. They could possibly think that he saw some of the other portraits speaking, and thought that all of the portraits spoke.