Felix whispered to him to slow down, and he did, and a figure resolved ahead in the road.  He flew slower,  confident the darkness would hide him, and listened to her let out a sting of invective that took his breath away. No polite miss, this.  No Muggle either, as the object of her ire was the broken broom that, so she told it, wasn't even good at sweeping up, much less flying.