Ron looked nervously at the window to his left. He smudged the dirt on the end of his nose.
"Oh stop fidgeting, Ronald."
"I can't believe you, Hermione! How can you trust this...this...metal bird more than a broomstick," he whispered frantically.
"We've been over this before. Physics, Ronald! Physics!"
"Merlin's beard! Don't talk to me about your fake muggle magic." He harrumphed as he slouched in his seat. Hermione went back to reading her book (1,000 Magical Uses for Eucalyptus Leaf) but only managed to turn the page once before she was interrupted again.
"How do you steer one of these things, anyway? Do you ride a broom handle?"
"No, the pilot drives it, much like one drives a car." Ron grunted his displeasure. After a few more minutes of pretending not to see him flinch, Hermione placed her hand on his arm.
"Don't worry, Ron. They'll love you."
"How do you know? They don't remember me!"
"Well, right now, they don't remember me, either."
Ron winced. "Sorry," he said as he turned an adorable shade of pink. Hermione smiled to herself; the color of his cheeks offset his ginger hair quite nicely.
"It's alright. I just hope they will forgive me."
"Of course they will! Why wouldn't they?"
Ron snaked his arm around her shoulders. Encouraged by this show of affection, she leaned into him for comfort. Their plane would touch down in Australia soon. She thought defeating Voldemort had been hard, but it was nothing compared to restoring her parents' memories and introducing them to her fiance.