Sighing, Pansy rolled onto her back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling of their bedroom. Complain as she might out loud, Pansy could admit (only to herself, of course) that she was deliriously happy with her current situation. She never would have imagined this life for herself: growing up she had been taught, had firmly believed, that she would marry a wealthy pureblood heir as soon as she graduated from Hogwarts and would begin popping out even more heirs as soon as the ceremony was concluded. But then the war came, and everything had changed. She had changed. Her priorities had shifted and, over time, she discovered what it was she actually wanted, and had made it a point to go after it. She still marveled at how she ended up here, in this flat, with this man, but couldn't imagine her life any other way.