Sat on her rather dated-patterned carpet, Nia was absentmindedly fiddling with her lamp. More tickling it than rubbing it. In her mind she was thinking of Quidditch. And how she so wanted to be on the pitch shooting quaffles right now.

The claps brought her back from those thoughts.

She shuffled back on the carpet, placing the lamp to one side. he leant forward to pick up the corners of the carpet, and curled it over. Her legs were crossed neatly, with her elbows resting on the inside of her thighs by her knees. She bounced up and down, impatiently. If she couldn't have a match, could she get up the air yettttt?