Savanah had not been on a broom in years, not since she lived in America. Back in her school days she had been on the Ravenclaw quidditch team, she was a beater. She had been pretty good too, though she had lost a lot of her muscle mass in her arms since then. She walked onto the pitch and felt her broom in her hands. It was an old Nimbus 2001, a little worse for wear, but hopefully it still flew well. She buttoned up her cloak up to her neck and safely sercured her persricption goggles over her eyes before she mounted on the broom. She felt her fingers grasp tightly around the handle as she pushed off from the ground and started to soar at a fast pace.