The Purist / DRAMIONE (COMPLETE)

Rabid Reporters

It took half a year for Hermione to finalise the divorce between her and Ron. It was certainly faster than the Muggle system, but it would have been even faster if Ron hadn't decided to hinder the progression of every single stage of the journey. Eventually, though, it had been completed. Hermione had been granted full custody, and Rose and Hugo were slowly coming to terms with their parents' divorce.

In the months after Astoria's funeral and Hermione and Ron's divorce, Hermione and Draco returned to their long-forgotten friendship. It was a connection they both had missed, and it took a while to remember how much they had had in common before Draco Obliviated Hermione for her own safety. They talked often of that day, and Draco filled in some of the gaps.

"I forgive you, you know," Hermione said quietly, one day as they sat at a café in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. "Yes, we could have worked through it, but I know why you did. It saved both of our lives. It's never too late to start over."

"Here we are," Draco replied with a smile.

The meet-ups they had eventually progressed into dates. Cafes transformed into restaurants and bars and clubs. Draco showed Hermione the high-life of the wizarding elite. Hermione, in turn, invited Draco to dinner with her parents, who could also relate to having experienced the power of Obliviate. Hermione's parents, too, had long since forgiven her. But there was only so long they could keep going on with no clear indication of where their relationship was going. Hermione was the Minister of Magic. Draco was an Auror.

"I know you've been thinking about this, as I have been too," started Draco slowly, "but what are we?"

"That depends," Hermione replied with a smile. "What will we be? Where do you see this going?"

"I see us going many places," said Draco. "We could elope and have a gaggle of children who attend Beauxbatons."

Hermione laughed.

"Rose and Hugo would hate that. They get their hatred of French people from their father."

"Well," Draco snorted, "old Ronikins shouldn't have tried to date a French Veela."

"At least Fleur and Bill have had their happy ending," Hermione said.

Bill, Fleur and their three children Victoire, Dominique and Louis no longer lived in Shell Cottage. It was too small and the place held too many bad memories to stay there. They lived in Normandy in France but their children still went to Hogwarts every year for school. Bill and Fleur liked the compromise.

"Okay... what about having a daring whirlwind romance and ending up in The Daily Prophet or some other Rita Skeeter article?"

"Aren't we already doing that?" Hermione laughed. "There was a column written about the Minister of Magic's 'dalliances' the other week. Interestingly enough, you weren't actually mentioned. I think they suggested that I might have turned to 'one of Ronald Weasley's older brothers' and there was a rumour that Viktor Krum was returning to the United Kingdom in search of love."

"I pay good money to keep the Malfoy name out of the papers when I can. And Krum?" Draco snorted again. "He ran from here as fast as he could. Inspired by Karkaroff perhaps."

"Viktor was a good man. I have no idea what he saw in me."

"I dread to think what he saw in 15-year-old you," Draco shook his head. "Dodgy even by wizarding standards."

Hermione reddened.

"Maybe I should readdress my opinion on him, then. He seemed nice."

"They all do," Draco said knowingly.

Hermione reddened even more.

"Okay, I'm being serious now," Draco said. "I want a future with you, Hermione. I want to know if you want one too, and how we're going to go about it. I don't want to give my father a premature heart attack."

"I think Azkaban might have already have done that. But, relax," Hermione said with a smile.

Draco looked at her suspiciously.

"What do you have up your sleeve?"

"In my pocket actually," Hermione grinned.

She knelt to the ground in the middle of the atrium and pulled out a little box, tied with a ribbon.

"You didn't," Draco breathed.

"I did."

She looked up at him.

"Will you marry me, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco was frozen in shock.

"This floor is quite dusty. I need to get maintenance on it."

Draco was snapped out of his reverie.

"Yes. Double yes. Triple yes. Yes yes yes yes yes."

"That's a lot of yeses," she commented.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, and kissed her, right in front of about a hundred Ministry employees.

Initially as shocked as Draco himself, the Atrium slowly burst into applause. There was a wolf-whistle and Hermione saw Percy Weasley, now her much more relaxed personal assistant, at the front of the crowd.

"I knew it!" he shouted over the crowd. "I knew it!"

Instantly, he was hounded by reporters and their cameramen, all asking for a line for their articles. Some of the articles alleging Hermione's various dalliances with different men had named Percy as their top guess, given his place as her assistant.

Draco joined Hermione in her laughter as she pointed to the crowded Weasley. He wouldn't hold the media's attention for long, and already they had quite a few cameras snapping away in their faces. One would have thought the Minister of Magic would be deemed more important than her headstrong assistant.

"Actually, I have a surprise, too," said Draco with a grin.

He knelt to the floor, and pulled out a ring.

"Hermione Granger, will you do me the absolute honour of marrying me?"

"You sly devil," Hermione gasped. "Of course."

Reporters rushed from Percy and shouted at the oblivious happy couple as Draco lifted Hermione up and whirled her round in the air.

"Here's to married life!" Hermione laughed.

"I hope this attention stops when you're no longer Minister," Draco grumbled.

Hermione kissed him.

"Oh, but I want to be Minister for ever."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't."

*****

A.N. Thank you for reading and please comment!