She tumbled clumsily in his arms in the moonlight. They were on a large stone balcony that belonged to one of the oldest castles in Britain. Crème coloured lanterns floated magically in midair and gave off a warm yellow glow that cast the faces of the dancing in a flattering light. It was ten o' clock at night and the reception was in full swing. With bellies full of heavy food and dark wine, the guests swirled around loosely and happily. The bride and groom were at the center of it all, of course. The bride's cheeks were flushed as she looked up at her new husband through her long lashes. Slightly behind them, Angelina Johnson tumbled clumsily in Remus Lupin's arms. She, in a bright red knee length dress with thick straps, he in a shabby forest green corduroy suit. The rich color contrasted against her dark skin perfectly and her black hair bounced in gleaming curls that fell just past her shoulders. Remus looked as he always did, tired and careful. The lines on his face tonight though, looked friendly and were creased in happiness. Their conversation flowed with ease.

"I'm sorry, I'm a horrible dancer." She looked at him with mock embarrassment as she once again went the opposite way than he was guiding her. He gave her a small smile and followed with a simple,

"Do you really think my Tonks is any better? I'm used to this." She laughed and continued to spin randomly. Everything had been going so well lately, she mused to herself. The new job as infirmary nurse at Hogwarts, her recent induction into the Order of the Phoenix, and of course, this wedding. Well, everything was well except the war, but the war was always there, in the back of everyone's minds. She was brought out of her thoughts by a strange look that crossed Remus's face suddenly. He was looking over her shoulder. She purposefully twisted them around so that she could see what he was looking at. A solemn Severus Snape stood in the corner of the balcony observing the dancers with a negative emotion that she couldn't quite discern. Snape had been tutoring her for the last couple of weeks in medicinal potion making via Dumbledore's request. He always had an indifferent, impersonal air with her during their sessions and instead of putting her off, this slightly intrigued her. She had never met anybody who was so impossible to read. However, thoughts of him were nonexistent most of the time, and only surfaced late some nights, when she lay in bed, too curious to sleep. What a strange man, she thought to herself. Whether it was the three glasses of red wine that she had earlier in the night or her curiosity finally getting the best of her, an amusing thought crossed her mind and refused to leave.

"I'm gonna ask him to dance." Remus looked down at her in confusion.

"Who? Kingsley?" She snorted unwillingly. She had broken things off with Kingsley weeks ago, much to the disappointment of many of her friends within the Order. He was a nice and competent man but he liked her way too much, way too early for her tastes.

"No. I didn't even know he was here. Snape, silly!" A look of obvious concern took over his face and Angelina wondered at his readability.

"Angelina, I really don't think you want to do that. He's… he's probably a horrible dancer." The amount of concern that his voice held didn't match the weak explanation that he had given her. She suddenly released herself from his grip and propelled herself over to the corner despite Lupin calling her back. What a strange mood Angelina Johnson was in that night. Motivated by alcohol and happiness she approached him with a mock curtsy and offered him her hand. She looked up at him with twinkling eyes and flashed him a brilliant smile.

"Come, stop looking so solemn and have a dance with a pretty girl." Her boldness even surprised herself but she kept it up and measured his reaction. While his face had originally held a scowl as he realized that she was coming to approach him, her statement softened his expression infinitesimally. Still looking supremely uncomfortable, his eyes avoided her face and settled somewhere above right above her right shoulder as he answered her.

"I don't dance." His voice was clipped and short, nothing new. Angelina just laughed and touched her hand to his and said,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not taking no for an answer." He looked around at the other dancers, some of which were openly watching them with rapt attention. It wasn't every day that Severus Snape was approached by a beautiful woman at a social gathering. She watched as he prepared himself and then answered her shortly,

"Fine. One dance." He took her hand and reluctantly led her to the dance floor. He barely touched her waist and let her hand rest loosely in his own. He moved mechanically, spinning around with small steps.

"How are you on this fine evening, Professor?" She now attempted genuine conversation. Once again his answer was clipped.

"Fine." She tried once again.

"This wedding has been beautiful, hasn't it? I can't believe that Sirius and Noelle are finally married!" His response was nothing more than obligatory.

"That it has been." Angelina was more than a bit put off, she had expected initial resistance but then thought for sure he would warm up to her. She always was able to get people to warm up to her. Suddenly, almost violently, she lifted their arms up, spun herself quickly, and dipped without warning in a backbend. Severus's hand on her waist went from an unenthusiastic touch to a firm grip instantly. His other arm went to her upper back, supporting her weight.

"Johnson! What are you doing?!" His voice was irritated and held what could have been a tiny bit of fear. She slowly brought herself up and stood a hairsbreadth from his face, their bodies meeting lightly. She ignored his question and simply said,

"Call me Angelina." She gripped both of her hands tightly with his and began the dance.