For The Tabloids

Chapter Eleven

Third Person POV:

Hermione took a swift drink of her glass of wine. She had once again gone to a muggle establishment to stay on the down low, which had allowed her to order an entire bottle of her favorited red wine to herself, that she had promptly finished and was halfway through her last glass. She had sent Draco the address nearly thirty minutes ago and was tempted to order another bottle if he didn't arrive soon, wanting to drown out the voices of the reporters which were burned into her mind. All day she had press conference after meeting after interview after everything that was expected of her, and she was entirely sick of her duties as minister. The questions she had been asked varied from completely moronic and repetitive to far too personal to be asking a stranger. They would question her political beliefs, questions she had answered countless times, telling them her fight for house elves and for muggle-borns, those questions never bothered her too much given as she was happy to reexplain the points she was passionate about, even adding in some of the ideas Draco had given her. But the questions about her personal life, especially those from Rita Skeeter dug into her skin like knives ripping out her very passion for the job.

She had been asked, even accused, of everything in the book from having affairs with both Harry and Ron (something Rita seemed adamant to prove despite it being blatantly false) to secretly being an omega who just didn't want to be chained down by some random alpha. Hermione always wanted to laugh at those questions because, if anything, she was the model alpha in everything except what apparently really counted, the ability to bed and impregnate an omega. She supposed she wouldn't mind finding a proper omega to settle down with, if anything to just get the constant personal questions to stop. But she knew deep down that she wanted to find someone she loved to start a family with and, even though she would never admit it, was sometimes jealous of both Harry and Ron for having everything which she could never seem to grasp. She had always been too busy with her work to find love and as the years went on and she was achieving everything any intelligent witch or wizard could dream of she just felt empty.

Her mind raced with the possibilities of who she could date, notable witches and wizards she knew personally, but her mind kept circling back to one specific wizard who she hadn't been able to get out of her head. Draco Malfoy.

The blond man had, despite her disbelief at first, proved to have changed drastically since their time at Hogwarts. And their conversations since she had bought him a phone only drew her thoughts closer and closer to the man. Something between them just seemed to have clicked, and she wasn't entirely sure it was just because they made good friends. Something about Draco pulled her towards him with an almost primal urge, and she wasn't entirely sure why.

She couldn't help but admit to herself that she wouldn't mind, perhaps even wanted to, date and eventually marry Draco. He may have been a beta but the public wouldn't necessarily care especially given that, at least from her perspective, Draco acted much more like an omega around her. The mere thought of it made her under the influence brain laugh out loud in the middle of the bar, there was no way that Draco was an omega. She couldn't even imagine him being marked by an alpha, much less baring children for said alpha.

But then again, despite the humorous nature of it, she couldn't help imagine how that version of her life would be. If she was able to admit her feelings to Draco and if he, by some chance in the stars, was actually an omega instead of a beta. She would no doubt, despite what her friends thought, marry him as quickly as she was able to if not for love to please the tabloids. And consequentially mate him and ensure that she would get the large happy family she deep down always wanted. But these were nothing more than drunken thoughts, impossiblities that would never happen no matter how much Hermione gave into them. She wasn't even entirely sure that she wanted any of these thoughts to become reality, and that she could very well just be giving into the constant demands of the wizarding world for her to fit into the traditional roles enforced by the society.