Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Distraction

Hermione's laughter echoed down the hallway that led to the door of her flat.

"Oh my goodness," she said breathlessly as she stumbled out of the elevator with Alphard Black. "I have not been so exhausted , or breathless, or tipsy in quite some time."

Alphard laughed and presently grabbed her arm to hold her steady. "I think you may have had one too many sprite spritzers at the bar."

"They're dangerous! They sneak up on you."

He chuckled as he led her down the hallway to her door. " Apparently , they do."

She feigned offense. "Are you mocking me?"

He grinned in a brilliant show of teeth. She thought to herself that his smile almost rivaled Riddle's. "In the most respectful and adoring way, yes. I most certainly am."

She shook her head, appalled. "Shocking."

She leaned back against the door to her flat. Her eyes were somewhat glazed. They'd danced and danced until her feet ached. "I'm rather proud of myself. I only stepped on your feet a total of six times."

He fought back a smile as he leaned over her, placing his hand on the door beside her. "I think you're graciously fudging that number in your favor, my dear."

"You mock me incessantly. It's a wonder I still see you."

He grinned. "Why do you, then?"

Her gaze slipped down to his chest and she gripped his tie absently. "I don't know. Perhaps, I find you charming."

His eyes met hers, his blue eye churning like a storm at sea. His darker grey eye smouldered like a burning coal. "May I come in, Hermione?"

She gazed at him, her eyes sparkling mysteriously. "You may." She reached down and placed her hand on the doorknob. The door sprang open at her touch and Hermione fell back instantly. Alphard's hand shot out and grabbed her just in time and held her up as she laughed uproariously.

"You are a perilous and ridiculous drunk, Dumbledore."

"Keeps you on your toes," she sang as she crossed through the foyer of her flat, taking off her shoes as she went. "My feet are aching like an old woman's. I shall be informing Madam Malkin of the impracticality of these pumps when it comes to dancing."

"Allow me, then." Alphard suddenly grabbed her hand turned her around, then pressed her against the wall. His hand slid down her waist and made its way down her leg slowly, then circled her ankle and lifted her foot. He promptly began massaging her delicate foot while his eyes burned into hers.

Hermione rubbed her lips together and let out a throaty moan at the pleasure of his hands working her aching feet. His nostrils flared at the sound. "You'd make a fine house elf, Alphard."

He fought back a smile, laughing under his breath. "I'm sure you'd love nothing better than for me to wait on you hand and foot."

"I think it's a divine idea."

"Oh really?" he asked, his voice thick with innuendo. "Would you like me on my knees, Dumbledore?"

Her smile faded somewhat and his eyes caught hers. Her lips parted, drawing his gaze. His thumb caressed her ankle slowly for a moment before he released it, allowing her to drop her bare foot back to the cool hardwood floor. Then, he lifted his hand and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her face to his. He gazed down at her for a moment, then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

His lips were soft and wet as they moved hesitantly against hers. He kissed her differently than Riddle. The action was softer and gentler, testing her as if she were a frigid snowflake that might melt. Perhaps she was. She felt bitterly cold compared to him. Alphard was all warmth and smiles and jokes. She placed a hand on his chest and inhaled. His lips parted and she felt his tongue slide against her lips, so she parted them to allow him entry.