Contentment

Contentment

Contrary to popular belief, Pansy Parkinson did not have an arranged marriage waiting in her future. It was simply... understood, that if she failed to find a suitable husband on her own - for 'suitable' read 'pureblood, preferably rich', she thought involuntarily - then the family would begin presenting candidates. One of whom she would have to accept.

And the most 'suitable' young man of her acquaintance was Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't that she objected to Draco personally. After all, he was good-looking and intelligent. He was certainly pureblooded - more so than herself, of that she was certain - and rich enough to buy half a county, if he so chose. For that matter, he probably owned one already. In her childhood he had been part of the cohort of 'suitable' playmates, along with Vincent Crabbe and the Patil twins.

And, of course, there had been Gregory Goyle.

Pansy wasn't quite sure when he had obtained a special place on her mental list. All she remembered was one day when she had looked up and seen him watching her. There had been an expression on his face that she had never seen there before, and she found it hard to analyse. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, brown to green.

And that, as they say, had been that.

When she told Draco, he sat her down on the sofa and asked her if she was sure she knew what she was doing. There was no jealousy in his tone; the words might have come from her own older brother, had she had one. He wanted to know if she was happy.

And she told him she was, and it was true.

When she told Vincent, he took a long moment to comprehend the statement, slow thought processes ticking over behind his furrowed brow. Then he asked her solemnly if she was going to make Greg happy. She thought that if Draco was her own surrogate brother, then surely Vincent was Greg's.

And she told him she would always try.

When she told her family, her mother cried a little, for lost dreams of her daughter as mistress of Malfoy Manor. There was no reason to forbid the match, as her more practical husband pointed out, and she forced a smile, and nodded her head. But spinning through her head was Draco's image, and the fact remained that he was everything Greg would never be.

And she turned her face away from what might have been.

After they left Hogwarts, they were married in a civil service. Draco held a reception for them at Malfoy Manor, and Vincent gave a short, heartfelt speech for their future happiness. Pansy looked at her husband's good-natured profile, and twisted the wedding ring she was unaccustomed to wearing, as Draco proposed a toast to the bride and groom.

And she resolved that they would be happy.

There were no moments of spine-tingling, stomach-clenching passion, as described in the paperback romances Pansy kept secretly under her bed. Probably there never would be. But he protected her, cared for her, even loved her in his mild, abstracted way. They were content together.

And that was all she had asked for.