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Hermione had a fight on her hands when she suggested to Draco that they fly to Australia. When she had first said fly, he had assumed she meant on a long distance travel broom and he jumped at the suggestion.
Then she had explained. And he let loose. They weren’t flying on one of those muggle transportation devices. How did a plane stay in the air without magic? He didn’t believe it would.
So he refused. And then she began to cry, and Draco stopped and gave in. He would never let her be upset over something so petty. So he said they could fly.
Now he was regretting that decision, they were sitting in the first class area of the plane waiting for it to take off and Draco was starting to panic.
Next to him Hermione was calm as anything. She was looking through her bag for something.
“Ah here it is,” she exclaimed, pulling a flask out— she handed it to him, “Drink this.”
“What is it?” He asked as the plane began to move.
“Calming drought. I knew you would be like this,” Hermione said.
“Thank you,” Draco said. Unstopping the flask, he gulped the potion down and handed it back to her.
Hermione smiled and relaxed back into her chair as the plane took off.
Draco felt the bumps and heard the sounds of the engines speeding up. Grabbing onto the arms of the chair he squeezed.
The whole flight was spent in fear for his life, the calming drought had done nothing for him. Especially as they went through some turbulence and then landing.
“We are never doing that again,” he cried as he stepped onto stable ground.
“I just wanted you to experience it,” Hermione explained.
“I didn’t need that experience.”
Draco grabbed their bags and walked out of the airport. He definitely would never return to one.