Zara slowly awoke, lost in a recent dream about her parents. Bellatrix and Rodolphus....what unusual, interesting names. They had both been killed by Harry Potter in the Battle of Hogwarts, which obviously put a desire for revenge deep in Zara's heart.
"Zella, dear, breakfast is ready," called her Uncle Rabastan, using the nickname he had adopted for her long ago. "Are you awake?"
"Yes, Uncle," Zara called back. "I'll be down shortly."
She dressed and made her way down the marble staircase to the kitchen. Rabastan was waiting there for her.
"I've instructed Burma to prepare your favourite breakfast for you, Zella dear," he said with a smile. "I really feel you need it."
"Thank you, Uncle." Zara smirked at the thought of Burma, the stupid little toerag of a house-elf.
All the way through breakfast, Zara again became lost in thought about the dream. She had been with a boy she didn't quite recognise, with white-blond hair and a pointed chin. He had taken her to a large manor house, where her mother and father (she supposed) were standing outside. She wondered what it all meant. Especially the boy.
