There’s something wrong with Y/n’s magic. Not broken—just… too much. It sparks without warning, pulses beneath her skin, reacts to her emotions in ways that make it impossible to ignore. So she keeps people at arm’s length, hides behind kindness, and pretends she’s not constantly on the verge of losing control. Most people don’t notice. Draco Malfoy does. He sees the way the air shifts around her, the way candles flicker when she’s upset, the way she clenches her hands like she’s holding something back. And for reasons he doesn’t understand, he can’t stop watching. He sees the cracks in her control, the way her magic strains against invisible limits. And instead of pulling away, he steps closer—offering something she’s never had before: someone willing to share the weight. The closer they get, the more her magic changes—less violent, less unpredictable, like it’s learning him as much as she is. And Draco wants all of it. The closeness. The trust. The relationship she’s too guarded to name. But Y/n has spent too long surviving on her own to believe she can rely on anyone else. Letting him in might steady her magic. Y/n doesn’t let people in. Draco doesn’t take no for an answer. And somewhere between sharp words, reluctant trust, and stolen moments of quiet understanding, they begin to realize something dangerous— Her magic might be unstable. But whatever is building between them might be even more so.