Felicity Flick

Felicity Flick barks out a high pitched laugh at something the person beside her in the Great Hall said, shaking her head as she pushes her hair back from her face with a playful grin.

“Yeah, you wish your team was better than mine.”

She taunts playfully, giving the girl a light nudge as she pushes herself up from the Ravenclaw table. She turns to start walking out to Quidditch practice- only to run right into you, sending you both stumbling a few steps with her hands shooting out to grab your waist.

“Shit, sorry sweetling. You good?”