"Mundane Magic"
Draco thought magic was overrated. Sure it made squibs jealous and proved that muggles were inferior, but it was just so mundane. Everyone he knew could do magic. Even knowing dark spells that nobody else knew had ceased to thrill him.
So when he drew his wand and picked his first spell he knew exactly what to expect. The students would gasp, Potter would flee and Snape would loom.
"Serpensortia." He smirked in anticipation.
But when those sibilant sounds began pouring out of Potter's mouth a shiver ran up his spine. And all he could think was, this is magic.
"Understanding"
Draco understood magic. It flirted just underneath the skin, danced along the nerves, and whispered sweet possibilities into your ear at night. It would seduce you patiently and before you knew it, you were no longer the master, but the slave.
Magic was dangerous. But Draco understood magic.
Draco doesn't understand Potter. He forces his way into situations that don't concern him, wreaks havoc wherever he goes, and shouts threats if you cross his friends. He doesn't understand subtlety and is abhorred by the concept of slaves and masters.
Potter is dangerous, but Potter is magic. And Draco understands magic.
"Magic"
"Merlin! Did you see that?" Ron yanked on Harry's sleeve. "How'd he do that?"
"I told you! He just does. He's Magic." Harry laughed and turned back to the screen.
Draco glared at the muggle device in front of him. He'd been listening to Harry and the Weasel gibber about how the guy on the screen was magic, but he'd yet to see a single hand gesture, spell, or potion.
"Fine," he spat. "I give up. What type of magic is he doing? Wandless and silent?"
Harry bit his lip and the weasel cackled.
"Draco… his name is Magic Johnson."