A Hole in the Wall (Dramione)

One

                  AN: this is my first story and it's taken me a while to be confident enough to publish, I hope y'all enjoy! There's much more to come.

Heels are such a pain, Hermione groaned inwardly, said shoes echoing as she carefully made her way down the stairs into the main room of the flat she shared with her fiancé. The black, floor length dress she wore shone as she entered the room, the slight relief of her feet on level ground causing her frame to straighten.
Ron, preoccupied with the Daily Prophet on the table in front of him, removed his gaze from the pages at the sound of heels ending their descent of the staircase. He was dressed sharply: a white button down, tie, black dress pants, and customary (though ancient in appearance) black shoes. His black overcoat was thrown lazily over one arm, on which gleamed a watch. His blue gaze traveled over Hermione, taking in her elegant apparel. The strapless dress hugged her body perfectly, and a slit in the dress revealed quite a bit of leg along with her silver heels. She was the definition of stunning.

"Whoa, 'Mione," Ron breathed, his gaze traveling back up her body to meet hers. "I wasn't aware I was having dinner with a model."

"Thanks?" She half asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione wasn't sure whether to take Ron's words as a compliment or not. She shrugged off the thought, however. Ron normally always meant well, whether his words portrayed those intentions or not.

"You're quite welcome, m'lady," he replied, seeming not to notice the questioning inflection in her voice. He held out his left arm, the other being occupied by his coat. On the hand extended in Hermione's direction gleamed a silver band that matched the diamond encrusted one on her own left hand. Smiling at the ring on Ron's hand, she linked her arm with his, and with a crack, the two apparated out of the flat.

                       As the couple appeared at their destination, a loud, crowded lobby welcomed them. The buzz of chatter between groups of people echoed as the two made their way through the crowd to a tall blonde waitress occupying the front desk. She was dressed in a white dress shirt, tie, and black pencil skirt. She had a pale face with rather drawn features, small green eyes and minimal makeup applied to her complexion.
"Reservation for Weasley. Table for two," Ron stated rather loudly before the woman could give them any sort of welcome. She closed her mouth, which had opened in the prospect of delivering a well rehearsed, faux cheery welcome to the restaurant. She nodded, pulled a few menus from beneath the desk, and motioned for them to follow her.

"Right this way, Mr. Weasley," she said pleasantly, heading towards the door that one would have associated with a rather fancy pantry. It was thin, a dark oak with floral engravings at the two top corners. Hermione, having never been to the place but had agreed to come at Ron's suggestion, glanced questioningly at her fiancé.  He smirked down at her, his face alight.

"I know it looks like a fancy broom cupboard, but just wait," he whispered as the waitress opened the door. Immediately, the roar of talk and classical music poured from the opening. They stepped through, and Hermione was left speechless. The room was much larger than she had anticipated, with tables sectioned off by curtains of sheer silken material that seemed to float, suspended in midair around the tables. A large, rather fancy bar was to their left, and a large dance floor took up the center of the massive room. Hermione's mouth had frozen in a silent 'o' of surprise, and only Ron's touch on her upper arm pulled her gaze from the unexpectedly spectacular sight before her.
"C'mon 'Mione, the table's this way," he said, his mouth close to her ear so that she could hear him in the loud room. The blonde continued to lead them through the tables, the curtains of which muffling the conversations taking place within them. Hermione registered bits of muffled voices, and recognized a few people at some tables she passed. Kingsley Shacklebolt, successful Minister of Magic, was seated at a table with a group of important looking warlocks. She also spotted the dreaded Cormac McLaggen seated at the nearby bar, surrounded by a few giggling girls. Hermione ducked to Ron's other side so as not to be spotted my McLaggen just as the waitress brought them to an empty table.