Pansy turned and, steeling her nerves, took a deep breath. Slowly, she made her way up the stairs, dreading having to do it but knowing she might as well get it all over with. At the landing, she turned and made her way to the room she had used the last time she was there, the one she had shared with Gilderoy. It had been a guest room when she’d grown up, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to move into her parents’ suite.
She wandered around the room, remembering sadly what had been good about her relationship with Gilderoy. Finally, she called Mnemsy and directed him to pack up what there was of Gilderoy’s clothes and personal items, pulling a few sets of robes out to save for Polly. It was a strange thought, but his robes had been very important to Gilderoy.
As an afterthought, she also went through her own clothes and personal items, separating a few to send back to Hogsmeade. The rest she directed Mnemsy to pack up as well. She’d donate them somewhere. Maybe that homeless shelter in Hogsmeade.
Before going back downstairs, she stopped in the room she’d been having the elves redo for Polly. She spent several minutes looking at the room, thinking of what might have been. Finally, she sighed and turned away. She had to admit to herself that things wouldn’t have been the perfect happy ending. She’d been the only one who had known the true Gilderoy, and he’d clung to her as a haven in which he could be himself. That had put a lot of pressure on her, even without the pregnancy. She’d loved him. He’d treasured her in a way that no one else had ever done before, and it had taught her what things could be like. That was why she couldn’t accept Draco’s idea of what her life should be like. She couldn’t marry for a name or money or even a bloodline. If she ever married, it would be for love.
And she’d live with the man a good long time after the first time they had sex to be sure she could stand him day in and day out. She’d learned that lesson, too.