The laugh Draco gives is a dry one. Go up? He wasn't sure how to go about that here in this new, strange place. How did one progress here? He still had yet to figure this out. He would, though. Even here, Draco was a Malfoy. Those expectations for excellence were too well ingrained.

Draco followed after, a bit slower for. Eventually sighing in frustration. Thankfully when he'd come over he'd been taking a moment on his broom, and so it was here with him. Taking out his wand he cast.

"Accio broom." As he cast he held the image of his broom within his head, then continued on. The broom would find him.

"This. Hunting for plants. Collecting them. My teacher and mentor was one of the greatest Potion Masters in my world. So this hunt is... familiar."