#robotics reader

How would Hermione, Luna, and Draco (separately) react to their muggle s/o doing magic for the first time?

Scenario: their s/o is a muggle, but is also a genius when it comes to science, inventing, and robotics, and one day they come up to them and yell out triumphantly "Aha! Look what I made! I can do magic now!" Holding up a mechanical wand with a magic stone attached.

So far, they can only make stuff explode with it lol.

❝ HERMIONE GRANGER ❞

Hermione freezes the moment you proudly declare you can do magic now.

At first, she looks… genuinely concerned.

Not in a judgmental way, but in that very Hermione way where her brain is already running through twelve different explanations, five safety concerns, and at least three possible rule violations.

“Y-you can’t just become magical,” she says carefully, stepping closer, eyes narrowing at the device in your hand. “That’s not how magic works. It’s—”

And then you demonstrate.

There’s a loud crack, a flash, and something nearby explodes.

Hermione yelps and physically flinches backward, grabbing your arm immediately after to check if you’re hurt. Once she realizes you’re fine, her expression shifts completely.

Now she’s fascinated.

She starts circling you, asking rapid-fire questions, already reaching for the wand.

“What is that made of? How are you channeling energy? Is that a focusing crystal? Is it converting some form of kinetic or electrical input into a magical output?”

You can practically see her brain lighting up.

She’s not even bothered that it’s chaotic or dangerous. She’s amazed that you, a muggle, found a way to replicate magic through science.

That becomes her new obsession.

Within days, she’s helping you stabilize it, taking notes, comparing it to wand cores, and trying to figure out if what you’ve created is actually magic… or something entirely new.

Every time something explodes, she jumps a little.

Then immediately starts writing it down.

❝ LUNA LOVEGOOD ❞

Luna does not question it.

Not even for a second.

You run up to her, excited, holding your mechanical wand like it’s the greatest invention in the world, and she just tilts her head, smiling softly.

“Oh, that makes sense,” she says.

That’s it. That’s her reaction.

When you demonstrate and something explodes, she watches it with calm curiosity, her eyes reflecting the light like she’s watching fireworks.

“I think it likes you,” she adds thoughtfully, as if your invention has feelings.

She takes the wand gently when you offer it, turning it over in her hands like it’s something precious and alive.

“There’s a lot of intention in this,” she hums. “Magic doesn’t always come from where people expect it to.”

She fully accepts that what you made is magic.

Not fake magic. Not imitation.

Real magic, just… different.

Luna becomes your biggest supporter. She’ll sit with you while you tinker, offering strange but oddly insightful suggestions, like adding “something that feels like moonlight” or “a softer energy so it doesn’t get overwhelmed and explode.”

And somehow…

Those suggestions actually help.

When things blow up, she never startles. She just laughs softly, brushing ash off her clothes.

“It’s learning,” she says, like that explains everything.

❝ DRACO MALFOY ❞

Draco’s first reaction is offense.

Pure, immediate offense.

“A muggle… doing magic?” he repeats, looking at you like you’ve just personally insulted centuries of wizarding history. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He doesn’t even take you seriously at first.

He assumes it’s some kind of gimmick. A toy. A desperate attempt to imitate something you don’t understand.

Then you demonstrate.

The explosion is loud, messy, and very real.

Draco actually jumps, immediately whipping his head toward the blast, eyes wide in genuine shock before he quickly tries to compose himself.

“…That was an accident,” he says quickly, even though he knows it wasn’t.

When you do it again, his expression changes.

Now he’s staring.

Really staring.

He walks closer, slower this time, eyes locked on the mechanical wand like it’s something dangerous.

“That’s not possible,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Muggles don’t have magic. They just… don’t.”

But you’re standing right there, holding proof that something is happening.

And it unsettles him.

Not because he’s scared of you, but because it challenges everything he was raised to believe.

Still, he doesn’t dismiss you anymore.

Instead, he gets… sharp.

“What’s powering it?” he asks, voice quieter now. “You didn’t just ‘make magic.’ There’s a mechanism. There has to be.”

He starts picking it apart verbally, trying to understand it, trying to contain it in logic.

But here’s the thing.

He keeps coming back to watch you use it.

Keeps asking questions.

Keeps pretending he’s unimpressed while clearly being anything but.

And if anyone else tries to mock you?

He shuts that down immediately.

Because even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet…

What you made is powerful.