"My name is Alphard Black. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" A grin stretched across his face, urging her to agree. If she was in luck, mischief was on the menu and Hermione would gladly partake. He took her outstretched hand in his own and led her to the middle of the dance floor. As Alphard led her in a waltz, he explained, "I am led to believe by the expression on my lovely sister's face that she plans to feed me my own limbs for supper if I embarrass her in any way, and who could resist such a tempting offer? I mean, I could strip down and start jumping on the tables, but doing something so dramatic would likely give her an aneurysm. Vexing her into an early death isn't quite my goal, so we'll begin with a lack of decorum in regards to the opposite sex. Should you find the idea intolerable, please do feel free to run away screaming. I believe that would mortify Walburga just as well."