Flight, what an amazing feeling. It was so different to the thrill he got when he found out a new interesting fact. When he had his feet on the ground, he always felt awkward, which was understandable, he was pretty young to be 6'1" and he had gotten so used to people making fun of his height, that he started to hunch his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look a little bit shorter then he was. Head bent, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, he was still tall, and lanky, and awkward looking, but he felt a little bit better about it. Up in the air however, it was something completely different. He threw back his shoulders, lifted his head, leaned into the wind, which flew through his untidy brown hair.
It was a different feeling, being up in the air. He felt free, unrestrained, the thought of anyone making fun of him flew from his mind as he zoomed around the Quidditch Pitch a few times. He pulled his broom to a halt and looked around the Quidditch Pitch. It was relatively chilly today, nothing like the sweltering hot days the summer had brought, the sun was out, but it was still early and it wasn't heating up the world like it would have done later in the day. He chose this early for a reason, it was Saturday, and it was the day that most people didn't wake up early, they slept in because they could, and being so early in the school year, quite a few people COULD sleep in, they didn't have homework that took all day to finish, they could sleep in, get up later for Breakfast, and go back to their dorms to chill for a bit, but Peter took the day to go outside, and blow off some steam without surveillance.
Pulling out his wand, Peter pointed towards the Quidditch changing stations, and a Quaffle flew out from the door, and floated in front of him. "Lets do this." He said softly, and flew towards the goal posts, his wand now tucked easily into his pocket, the Quaffle flying after him, until he stopped, and it stopped not to far away. "Go." He said and touched his wand with his hand, the Quaffle flew at him, and he jumped to protect his goal post, hitting the ball with the end of his broom, before it came flying back and he easily maneuvered his broom to protect the goal again. He did miss a few times, but it was these times that he grew more aggressive towards the Quaffle, and would protect the goal for a long time until he let one slip again, and got angry at it again. He was working up a small layer of sweat, and he had completely forgot to check for anyone who could see him, his mind completely focused on his task, which he tended to do, and would lose himself in a book or his homework and not emerge for hours. It wasn't hours he was engrossed, but it wasn't long until the castle was alive with people, and it was nearly lunch time.