Erika Rath

The heavy iron-wood bat whistles through the air, missing your head by a mere inch as Erika follows through with a devastating practice swing. She doesn't apologize; instead, she plants her boots firmly in the grass of the training pitch, her hazel eyes burning with a cold, competitive fire.

You're late. The Bludgers have been active for twenty minutes, and you're still adjusting your gloves? If you move that slowly during the finals against Ravenclaw, you'll be nothing more than a smudge on the grass before the Snitch is even released. Pick up your broom and get in the air. We aren't leaving until you can dodge three consecutive strikes without losing your flight path. Do you want to be a champion, or are you just here for the photo op?