get out [h. granger]

five

(thought I published this yesterday but here you go!)

The Fawley manor was just how Shyla had always remembered it. It was cold and dark, and the decor probably hadn't changed since Queen Victoria was on the throne. But it was significantly less terrifying without the presence of her haughty grandfather who relentlessly spoke his mind and her divining grandmother who eagerly reminded Shyla of her destiny every time they met.

The events of the day were already spinning through Shyla's head when Marienne sat her down in the drawing-room. The ticking of the clock echoed in her ears while she waited, knees bouncing, to meet her fiance.

The idea of marriage seemed like a sham to Shyla if she was being quite frank. She didn't know anyone who had married for love—the purposes of marriages in the Fawley family were to continue to "keep the bloodlines pure" and "produce heirs to the great Fawley line" and whatnot. Had Shyla's parents never died, she would have eventually been married off anyway. Her parents (mostly her father) had been discussing matches for her since she could walk. And though Shyla remembered Draco Malfoy as a stuck-up snob with a stick up his arse, he also knew how to respect the people who scared him.

The door opened again and in came Mrs. Malfoy and her son. Mr. Malfoy was conspicuously missing and his wife and son both looked much more tired than usual. Marienne, however, was practically glowing. Things were going exactly her way.

"Shyla, Daniel tells me you know the Malfoys already," Marienne said, her lips curved in a polite but dangerous smile. "I'll let you reacquaint yourselves."

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco," Shyla said, nodding from her place on the couch. "I hope you're both doing well."

Draco scoffed, visibly upset. Mrs. Malfoy sent him a glare that quickly silenced him. "Well enough, thank you, Shyla," Mrs. Malfoy said. "It's good to see you out of that dreadful hospital."

Shyla pursed her lips. Her time at St. Mungos seemed like a lifetime ago to her. So much had happened that day that her memories of the hospital felt like an entire lifetime ago. "Draco," she said suddenly, moving to stand. "Have you seen the garden yet?"

"No," Draco said shortly.

"Let me show you around then," Shyla said She glanced at Narcissa, asking for permission. With the tiny nod of the Malfoy matriarch's head, Shyla offered her hand to Draco. He accepted it begrudgingly and followed Shyla out to the garden.

It was just as quiet outside as it was inside but there was a lessening of tension as the two teens were together. Shyla led him past rose bushes to a bench in front of a fountain where water tricked quietly out. Hedges and shrubs surrounded the fountain, hiding the pair from view.

Shyla let out a long sigh. "I never really got the appeal of marriage, you know," she said. "Not when I was growing up, at least."

"I couldn't give a shit about marriage," Draco said. "I'm sure you're nice, and all—"

"I'm really not."

"—But I've got bigger problems than who's the heir to the Malfoy fortune to worry about," Draco finished, shooting her a look.

"Glad we can be on the same page then," Shyla sighed, relieved. "I'll do my best to put off my aunt for as long as possible while you take care of those bigger problems."

"You know?" Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The moment of vulnerability perturbed Shyla slightly.

Shyla shrugged. "I have a pretty good guess," she admitted. "I don't know any specifics and I don't think you want me to. But I can guess what's happening and who's behind it. I'm not an idiot."

Draco scowled again. "Hopefully you'll keep it to yourself then, seeing as you're not an idiot," he said, his tone with the same sharp edge it had beforehand.

"Anything for you, husband," Shyla said, her tone dry. Who was she going to tell? Her aunt and uncle, who either already knew or wouldn't care? "Now, tell me what Hogwarts is like."

Draco frowned, pausing for a long moment. "It has its good and bad," he said finally. "I used to walk around that place as if I owned it. No one could tell me anything there and for an eleven-year-old, that was the peak of existence. But not anymore. I was a little shit and now everyone is either afraid of me or hates me."

"Well, seeing as I neither hate you nor am afraid of you, hopefully, I can go to Hogwarts and scare everyone off for you," Shyla said. Her lips curved into a wicked grin. "Everyone is afraid of me."

"You don't know if you're going to Hogwarts yet?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Shyla shrugged. "I do believe my guardians are supposed to enroll me, but I seriously doubt they'll oppose," Shyla said. "My aunt knows what I want. I didn't agree to marry you because I had such fond memories of when we were seven, you know."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "I don't blame you," he admitted. "I had the largest stick up my arse back then."

"Found a smaller one recently, have you?" Shyla asked, examining her nails, a genuine smile quirking at her lips.

Draco scoffed but didn't argue. "Perhaps this is a bit odd, but I'm glad we're getting married. Better you than Pugface Parkinson. She's a nightmare."

"Yes, well, I suppose you'll make for an alright husband," Shyla admitted. "So long as you understand that I will not be having sex with you, of course."

Draco sputtered. "You can't say that word," he sputtered, flustered by the mention of sex.

Shyla giggled. "What?" she asked, amused by his over-the-top response. "I can't say the word sex at sixteen?"

"No!" he insisted. "It's not proper, you know."

Shyla grinned widely, showing her teeth to Draco like she was a predator ready to strike. "Oh really?" She asked, leaning in toward's Draco. "And who is going to stop me? My dead father?"

Draco shook his head. "I can see why everyone bought the insanity plea," he said.

"Oh, it wasn't an act, darling," Shyla smiled with all of her teeth and offered her arm to Draco again. "Now come on. Let's go back to your mother before the adults dare to assume we've been fornicating."

Reluctantly, Draco took Shyla's arm and let himself be dragged inside. Next to him, Shyla smiled to herself, quietly victorious. Whether or not she needed to, she had shown her future husband just who was boss in their relationship. She hadn't escaped one ball and chain for another, and certainly not to be told what to do by Draco Malfoy of all people. Still, he wasn't quite as awful as she had first assumed. Even if she would rather marry practically anyone else in the world than him. Godric, she would probably even marry that Hermione she met once at the hospital than him. But as far as husbands went, he wasn't the worst. Until Shyla had what she wanted in her grasp, she could be pleased enough with him.

But of course, Marienne Fowley was kidding herself if she really thought she could force Shyla into a marriage she didn't want. After all, who was going to stop Shyla from getting what she wanted?

a/n: this chapter is weird and i meant to update it on Monday :o but spoilers! (not) shyla does not intend to sit and have other people tell her what to do

next chapter will probably be hogwarts tingz :D can't wait to reintroduce hermione again with the full context of who each of them are