First, he started with the simplest maneuvers—front flips and backflips, followed swiftly by left and right barrel rolls. These basic acrobatics were almost effortless for him, his body responding with an innate understanding of aerial dynamics.
Although the rapidly changing G-forces caused a slight rush of blood to his head, momentarily blurring his vision, he still completed these initial moves with a smooth precision, drawing small, sharp gasps of surprise from the onlookers on the ground.
Next came the more advanced aerobatic maneuvers. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Felix began to challenge the true tests of skill and courage: first, a "Chandelle," where the broom, under his precise control, carved an elegant, climbing turn through the air like the pendulum of a great clock; this was followed by an "Immelmann turn," a slick half-loop and roll out, pointing him in a new direction; then, a "Hammerhead stall," climbing vertically until the broom was almost motionless at its apex, before pivoting sharply and plunging back towards the earth; he even executed a "Cobra maneuver"—an incredibly demanding feat of pulling the broom into a super-high angle of attack, its nose pointing almost straight up, before gracefully recovering. These were all classic, high-difficulty maneuvers renowned in the world of aerobatic flight.
Through a process of trial and instinct, Felix, relying on his exceptional innate talent and the reflexes honed in the chaotic maelstrom of the space-time passage, managed to complete each of these thrilling and flashy maneuvers. Every successfully executed move sent a small ripple of triumph through him. If any ace aerobatic pilots from his previous world had witnessed this display, they would undoubtedly have been dumbstruck, exclaiming, "That's impossible!" before descending into a profound existential crisis.
After all, anyone seeing an eleven-year-old effortlessly perform complex maneuvers they themselves had struggled for years to master, and on his very first attempt no less, would likely question the very fabric of their reality.
Of course, this wasn't solely due to his own formidable athletic ability and almost preternatural learning capacity; it was also a testament to the inherent superiority of a magical flying broomstick over a conventional fighter jet in terms of maneuverability and responsiveness—it seemed to react almost instantaneously to the rider's slightest thought or inclination.
Witnessing this breathtaking aerial display, the young witches and wizards on the lawn below erupted into a chorus of screams, a mixture of pure amazement and utter disbelief. Most of them couldn't fully appreciate the extreme difficulty or the precise control behind these maneuvers, but the sheer beauty and fluidity of his flight path were enough to make them gasp in wonder, as if they were watching a fantastical performance from another world.
Madam Hooch, however, saw much more. As a former professional Quidditch player, she possessed a deep understanding of flight. At this moment, she truly recognized Felix's astounding flying talent—it was a gift that far surpassed that of any Quidditch player she had ever encountered, including her younger self. Her sharp, hawk-like eyes glinted with a mixture of shock and profound admiration, and for a moment, she almost forgot she was supposed to be teaching a class.
Finally, after a series of dazzling aerobatic feats, Felix gradually slowed his speed, bringing his impromptu aerial ballet to a close.
It wasn't that he was unwilling to continue reveling in the adrenaline-fueled thrill, but rather the protesting "creak... groan..." from the ancient school broom beneath him served as a stark reminder that it had long since reached its breaking point and was on the verge of disintegration.
His recent performance had been akin to forcing an old, rickety crop-dusting biplane to perform maneuvers only a high-performance fighter jet was designed for. He had no doubt that if he pushed it any further, the broom would instantly fall apart in mid-air, granting him a very literal experience of "free fall."
Amidst the deafening cheers and admiring shouts from his classmates, Felix began a slow, controlled descent, preparing for a smooth landing to conclude his "debut" in this lesson.
Suddenly, a familiar, tearful scream pierced the air, instantly capturing his full attention.
"Help! I... I can't control it!"
Felix immediately recognized the distressed, tear-choked voice of the girl—it was Hermione.
He scanned the sky and spotted her a short distance away. Hermione was clinging desperately to her broom, her face a mask of terror. The broom itself was bucking and swerving like an untamed stallion, flying erratically through the air, lurching up and down with no discernible pattern. Hermione's small body was thrown about violently with each erratic movement, and it was clear she was rapidly losing her grip and was about to fall.
"Look out!" he heard the terrified shouts from the students on the ground, interspersed with the frightened sobs of several girls.
"Hold on tight to the broom, grip with your legs, try to keep your balance!" Madam Hooch yelled from the ground, her voice now laced with genuine urgency.
"Felix, help her!" someone shouted from the crowd, their voice filled with desperate hope.
However, by this time, Felix was already in motion. Almost in the same instant he heard Hermione's scream, he had leaned forward, his legs gripping the broom tightly, and shot off like an arrow released from a taut bow, accelerating rapidly towards her.
Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't hold on any longer. The out-of-control flight had completely exhausted her, her arms were aching and weak, and the overwhelming fear was relentlessly eroding her will.
When the disobedient broom once again bucked violently, flipping her upside down in mid-air, she finally lost her grip on the smooth handle and, with a terrified shriek, tumbled from the sky.
Her scream was one of pure, unadulterated terror as her small body plummeted helplessly towards the ground. The wind roared in her ears, and the world below rushed up to meet her with terrifying speed.
On the ground, many of the young witches and wizards squeezed their eyes shut, unable to bear watching. Others clapped their hands over their mouths in horror. A fall from such a height would mean serious injury, if not worse.
Madam Hooch fumbled for her wand, intending to cast some spell to avert disaster, but she lacked Dumbledore's mastery of non-verbal and wandless magic. In her haste, her incantation was a fraction of a second too slow.
Only Felix remained a blur of focused action. Completely disregarding the ominous groans and splintering sounds coming from his own ancient, protesting broom, he pushed it to its absolute limit, accelerating with desperate speed.
In the rapid dive, the howling wind stung his cheeks like icy needles. The tail end of his broom had begun to disintegrate, small twigs and splinters tearing away in the fierce airstream and scattering behind him. He was now, essentially, riding a splintered, nearly broken broom handle in his death-defying plunge.
At that moment, he was like a spear cast from a giant's hand, a streak of determination arcing through the sky, aimed directly at the small, falling figure.
True to his nature, even in this critical, life-or-death situation, Felix's mind remained astonishingly calm and clear. The physics knowledge from his previous life now proved invaluable. He had mentally calculated the broom's remaining structural integrity, timing its inevitable failure so that, in the instant it lost its ability to levitate, it would be falling at nearly the same velocity and trajectory as Hermione.
Finally, he reached her! Thanks to his precise calculations and perfect timing, he was now directly beneath Hermione, the vertical distance between them less than half a meter.
Without a moment's hesitation, Felix decisively released his grip on the broom handle, relying solely on the strength of his legs to control the rapidly failing shaft. Simultaneously, he thrust his arms upwards with all his might and, with a surge of effort, securely caught the panicked, tear-stricken Hermione.
Although he felt a tremendous impact jolt through his arms upon contact, as if his bones might shatter, thankfully, the force wasn't as crushing as he had feared.
This was because Felix had masterfully controlled his dive. He had intelligently adjusted his vertical descent speed to almost perfectly match Hermione's falling velocity. Thus, when he caught her, the primary force he had to absorb was from their relative horizontal motion, not the full kinetic energy of her fall.
However, this immediately presented another critical problem.
They were falling too fast, and they were now too close to the ground. There simply wasn't enough altitude or time for him to decelerate for a safe landing.
Yet, even this sudden, dire predicament did not cause Felix to panic.
His gaze remained sharp and focused, his mind racing. Summoning every ounce of his strength and control, he forcibly wrenched the nearly broken broom handle sideways, desperately trying to alter their downward trajectory. He managed to divert their fall horizontally, aiming them towards the dense canopy of the Forbidden Forest's edge.
With a tremendous "CRRAAASSSHHH!" accompanied by the sharp crack of breaking branches and a shower of leaves, the two of them plunged headlong into the thick foliage of a large tree.
Felix instinctively pulled Hermione tightly against him, using his own body as a shield. Hard branches lashed at him, scraping and tearing at his skin, leaving stinging, fiery trails. But the dense canopy also acted as an effective buffer, significantly cushioning the impact of their fall.
Unfortunately, their initial dive speed had still been too great. They crashed through the crowns of several trees in succession, snapping countless branches of varying thickness, before finally hitting the soft forest floor with a heavy thud. They tumbled several meters through the undergrowth, a tangle of limbs, robes, leaves, and broken twigs, before finally skidding to a halt.