Magnetized Draco Malfoy

Chapter 1: Home

Hailey Groves was no ordinary girl. She was a mud blood, a bridge between realms. Her mother died, and it was just her and her father.

He had watched her perform accidental magic since she was a child. They marveled at the floating teacups and the mysterious letters that arrived by owl post. But he couldn't understand the intricacies of wands, potions, and Quidditch matches.

The rain tapped insistently against the window, She sat cross-legged on her bed, her Hogwarts trunk half-packed, robes strewn across the bed. The room had a slight scent of vanilla and cinnamon but also a hint of rosemary and lavender.

The room, tucked away in a small London  townhouse. The walls wore faded wallpaper adorned with delicate roses, remnants of her mother's taste. A worn armchair nestled by the fireplace, its cushions plumped with memories. Hailey's Muggle books—dog-eared mysteries and adventure tales—stood in a haphazard stack on the windowsill. Their spines bore the weight of countless rainy afternoons spent lost in other worlds.

But it was the spellbooks that held her heart. Their leather covers whispered secrets—the kind that only ancient tomes could harbor. The Standard Book of Spells lay open, its pages revealing incantations that danced between reality and enchantment. Hailey's finger traced the curves of the runes, committing them to memory. She wondered if her father, downstairs in the kitchen, could hear the faint hum of magic.

Her wand rested on the desk, its wood polished from years of practice. Eleven inches, dragon heartstring core—chosen for her by Ollivander himself.

Hailey had felt the magic surge through it when she first held it, a connection that transcended mere wood and core. She wondered if it missed Hogwarts as much as she did during the summer break.

____________

The rain had eased to a gentle drizzle as Hailey stood on Hannah's doorstep.

The familiar red-brick house exuded warmth, its windows aglow with soft lamplight. Hailey's heart fluttered; this was the threshold where magic and mundanity intersected, a place where secrets whispered through the cracks.

Hannah opened the door, her eyes wide with anticipation. She wore a knitted sweater, its colors reminiscent of autumn leaves. Her smile held both joy and sorrow, a reflection of their shared history.

Hannah knew about Hogwarts, the castle on the hill, the moving staircases, and the Sorting Hat's. She knew because Hailey had trusted her with the truth, her only best friend.

Come in," Hannah said, stepping aside. The hallway smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread. "I've made tea."

Hailey followed her into the cozy kitchen. The wooden table bore the weight of memories, their laughter over homework, and late-night about discussions about stupid boys.

Hannah's mother had welcomed Hailey into their home, never questioning the peculiarities that danced around her daughter's friend.

The teapot whistled, and Hannah poured steaming chamomile tea into mismatched cups.
Hailey watched the steam rise, its tendrils curling. She wondered how many more cups of tea they would share before the next summer break.

"I'll miss this," Hailey said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The rain against the window, your cozy kitchen, and our talks."

Hannah leaned back in her chair, cradling her cup. "And I'll miss your stories—the ones about Quidditch matches, enchanted forests, and the ghosts in the castle. She said traumatized "It's like having a secret world right here."

Hailey traced the rim of her cup. "You could come with me, you know. To Platform 9¾."

Hannah chuckled. "And what would I do there? I'm no witch."
"You're my friend," Hailey said. "That's enough."

They sat in silence, the rain tapping against the windowpane. Hailey's Hogwarts trunk waited by the door, its brass clasps gleaming. She had packed her robes, her wand, and the locket with their picture the one that held their laughter frozen in silver.

But leaving Hannah behind felt like leaving a part of her soul. I'll write," Hailey promised. "Owl post. Every week." Hannah nodded, her eyes shimmering. "And I'll listen. To every raindrop that taps against my window. I'll imagine it's you, sending messages from Hogwarts." The girls giggled, at how cheesy it sounded.

But Hailey's throat tightened. "I wish you could see the castle. The Great Hall during feasts, the library with its ancient books..." "okay let's not get too carried away with the descriptions now"

"I'll see it through your letters," Hannah said. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll dream of flying on a broomstick." she said sarcastically.

As the rain intensified outside, Hailey stood. She hugged Hannah tightly, their hearts bridging the gap between worlds.

The teacups rattled on the saucers, echoing their unspoken words.
"Goodbye, Hannah," Hailey whispered.
"Until next time, Hailey," Hannah replied.

And with that, Hailey stepped out into the rain. The Hogwarts Express awaited. She glanced back at Hannah's house—the cozy kitchen, the lamplight, and the love that lingered. Then she walked away, her trunk following faithfully.

Hannah's face remained etched in her mind the freckles, the laughter, the shared secrets.

Hogwarts awaited, but it would never be complete without her best friend. And so, as the rain tapped insistently against the pavement, Hailey whispered a promise to the to her self: "I'll come back, Hannah. Always."