She's like a blur, darting across the Quidditch pitch. She leans forward, thighs clenched as tightly as possible around the body of her broom to achieve top speed. Seconds later, she's there. With precision and power, she releases the quaffle and whips it through the central ring, unable to stop a grin forming. She maneuvers her broom, flying down to the the pitch where her new team are watching her practice and cheering. She jumped from her broom as she reached the ground, smirk firmly in place