So all the young wizards who had come to watch got to witness the Firebolt's incredible speed.
Harley became a streak of red flame in the sky, darting about at will, her figure impossible to catch.
The Firebolt suited Harley perfectly, especially since her physical abilities were far beyond those of an ordinary wizard.
She could push the Firebolt to its absolute limit without compromising her control.
Even the British national Quidditch players, who ate Hokloba Ginseng from the Mariana Trench every day, couldn't withstand speeds in the Firebolt's third gear.
That alone was enough to earn Harley a spot on the British national Quidditch team's starting lineup!
And judging by her overall ability, Harley could even join the national team's youth training program. Maybe she'd have a chance of becoming a substitute on the second team. (Just an ordinary passerby, no offense.)
After watching that training session, the Ravenclaws gave up outright. They couldn't imagine how they were supposed to win.
Harley had already been strong, scoring efficiently and playing with exceptional control.
Now she'd gone and paid for an upgrade, getting herself a whole new broom. How were they supposed to win against that?
They were done. This was just bullying, pure and simple!
And the match that officially began on Saturday proved that the Ravenclaws really were powerless.
Madam Hooch had only just blown the whistle to announce the start of the match and released the Quaffle when Harley sent her broom racing into the sky.
The three Ravenclaw Chasers hadn't even reacted before the Quaffle was in Harley's hands.
Then, less than a minute later, the first goal of the match was scored.
For the rest of the match, Harley became a red meteor, recklessly charging through with the Quaffle and scoring again and again, helping