A Malfoy? With a muggle-born? Y/N Malfoy had brought nothing but shame to her family name. But after finding out that she's a prophecy, her entire future changes for the worse. Will she turn against the Dark Side, and survive, and have a happy life...
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slight sexual topic mentioned
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Hogsmaede.
"You coming, 'Mione?" spoke Ron as he and Harry were about to enter Honeydukes. His girlfriend was about to respond until she saw a glimpse of platinum-blonde hair just a few shops away. She hesitantly shook her head and left without explanation.
"(Y/N)," she spoke breathlessly when she entered the shop full of books, the Slytherin girl felt taken-aback by finally getting approached by her. "I mean- what're you doing here? Stalker much." she quickly said sarcastically with a cross of her arms over her chest.
"Says the one who entered just a few seconds after I did, and uttered my name the moment she got in." replied a highly amused (Y/N). She received an eye roll in return, the two began to look at the books on the shelves.
"Ron saw my hand last night," confessed Hermione quite reluctantly after a moment of silence, the platinum-haired girl's eyebrows raising slightly in confusion. "Your drawings on my hand. You wrote your name on it." she explained.
"He forbid me to talk to you."
She watched (Y/N)'s expression carefully, wondering how will she respond to this. But to her utter confusion, the Slytherin girl's lips curved into her usual cheeky grin. "Yet here you are, approaching me and still talking to me. I thought you claimed to hate me, Granger?" teased (Y/N).
Hermione gave a scowl in return and turned her eyes back onto the books. She was utterly confused by herself; she couldn't fathom her hatred towards the Slytherin girl. "I genuinely despise you." said Hermione firmly.
"You make my heart beat too fast to take in your insults." replied (Y/N) cheekily.
Hermione scoffed and stormed out of the shop, ignoring the fact that she knew that her cheeks were heating up and it wasn't due to weather conditions. She began strolling around Hogsmaede, staring down at the ground as she collected her thoughts and feelings, unable to understand them. Soon, she heard quick footsteps approaching from behind her, the familiar scent bringing her an odd sense of familiarity and comfort.
"Let me join you, you look like a lost miserable pup." pointed out (Y/N). "Misery loves company."
Hermione looked at the girl, growing quite bewildered as she realised how much paler (Y/N) looked, her hair used to be platinum-blonde, but now it was nearly comparable to the white snow.
"I'm not miserable, I'm just having some quality time with my own self." insisted Hermione with a huff, her eyes averted to the leather bag the Slytherin girl was holding. "What's that?" she questioned curiously.
"Hm? Oh," replied (Y/N), lifting the leather bag and taking the contents out of it with her other hand. "Just sketches, drawings." she shrugged, handing them to the Gryffindor girl.
"Oh wow." was Hermione's immediate reaction to the sketches of nude women. "Were these taken in person?" she asked as she flipped through every page.
"Mhm. All is professional work, of course." assured (Y/N) truthfully.
Hermione was wearing an impressed expression as she noticed the Slytherin girl's talent shown on pieces of paper. She reached the latest sketches, which looked just a tad bit familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"You have favoritism." observed Hermione. "You drew this girl multiple times," she said, showing a sketch of a nude woman that had her eyes colored gleaming red. "And this girl as well." she went on as she flipped the page to a sketch of yet another woman but with tattoos visible on her upper thighs. And another different feature were her hands; that had claws.
"You could say that." nodded (Y/N) honestly. "But again, professional work." she mentioned yet again, making sure that fact is crystal clear.
Hermione gave her back the sketch. The two strolled in silence as the Gryffindor girl looked like she was contemplating something.
"(Y/N)," she spoke hesitantly. "I want you to draw me like your naked girls."
