Harry Takes a Break

Chapter 8

          The plane climbed steadily, the hum of the engines growing quieter as they neared cruising altitude. Ron, still plastered to the window, seemed torn between amazement and unease.

"Blimey!" he whispered as they broke through the clouds, the patchwork of land and city now far below them. "We're so high up, Harry! Higher than any broom I've ever been on."

Harry glanced at Ron and grinned. "It's like flying a broom, only you don't have to steer."

Ron's face paled slightly as the plane banked gently to the right, turning to its course. His hand shot out, gripping the armrest tightly. "Did you feel that? We're tilting—Hermione, we're tilting!"

Hermione barely looked up from her book, far more relaxed in her seat. "It's just a turn, Ron. Planes bank when they change direction. Perfectly normal."

"Normal?" Ron repeated, his voice an octave higher. "That didn't feel normal!"

Harry tried to stifle his laughter. "You'll be fine. The plane's not going to fall out of the sky, if that's what you're worried about."

Ron gave Harry a side-eye, his knuckles still white from gripping the armrest. "You might be all calm about it, but it's not natural, is it? This thing's made of metal, and we're flying thousands of feet above the ground. How's that supposed to make sense?"

Hermione sighed, her patience clearly being tested. "Aerodynamics, Ron. Lift. Thrust. I've explained it before."

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know... science and all that. But I still don't trust it."

Another gentle bank sent Ron's heart racing again, and he leaned forward, his eyes wide as he peered out the window. The cabin dipped slightly before leveling out once more, and he let out a nervous laugh. "There! Did you see that? We just—Harry, are you sure this thing knows what it's doing?"

"It's flown this route plenty of times before, Ron. I don't think the pilots are new at this."

Ron gave a skeptical grunt, though his eyes never left the window. He watched as the land below disappeared, leaving only endless blue sky and fluffy clouds around them. "At least it's a nice view," he muttered, still clinging to his armrest. "But I'll be honest, mate, I don't think I'll ever get used to this banking business."

Harry chuckled, trying not to laugh too hard at Ron's expense. "You'll survive. Just think of it like flying a broom... with a lot more passengers."

Ron shot him a withering look. "If brooms banked like this, I'd never leave the ground."

As the plane leveled off and reached cruising altitude, the cabin crew bustled around, preparing for the first meal service. The trio sat comfortably in their spacious First Class seats, and Harry couldn't help but marvel at how different this was from every other flight he'd ever experienced. The Dursleys always found a way to send him on much cheaper flights than them. The chairs were plush, and the legroom seemed to stretch for miles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've now reached our cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet. We're expecting smooth skies ahead for the majority of the flight, with an estimated arrival time of just over ten hours into Los Angeles. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight with us today."

Ron glanced nervously at Harry and Hermione as if to say, Easy for him to say, but neither of them seemed phased. Hermione was already pulling out her book, and Harry was adjusting the seat controls, enjoying how easily it reclined.

Moments later, a flight attendant appeared at their side, smiling warmly and holding a sleek leather-bound menu. "Welcome to First Class. Here are your menus for today. We'll be serving dinner shortly after takeoff, and if there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."