Draco would have shrieked about falling off if the doors weren't sealed shut already. Not the he hadn't tugged at it to make extra sure that there was absolutely no way for him to fall out. Draco much preferred to be sitting on a broomstick, where he was able to control where he was going at any point in time, to this box of metal and glass that looked like it might be broken by a passing wind.
The only reason he was up her was because Hermione had forced him to. Then laughed that he was a coward when he had refused.
Draco wasn't a coward!
And, so, Draco sat on the hard, metal seat, resolutely ignoring the fact that the entire box was swaying dangerously, and the fact that he was alive by a couple of wires. Draco shuddered at the thought.
No. He definitely didn't need to think of that.
Nor the fact that Hermione would laugh at him again if he simply apparated out of this container of death.
And, slowly, the ferris wheel kept moving.
Written for October Halloween Event: Bingo [(object) Ferris Wheel]