serendipity - r. lupin

EIGHTY TWO

"These are the two prime things in my life," said Peter, a joyful smile on his face. "You need to try the pizza."

"I'll have a bit later. Right now I just really want something to drink." Genevieve picked up a bottle of Firewhisky, cracked it open, then tipped as much of it as she could down her throat. "How do people drink this?" she grimaced.

"Alcohol tastes like water when you're drunk," said Peter. "So I guess it doesn't really matter about the taste. Have you seen Prongs and Evans?" He pointed to the centre of the room where the two were dancing. She was laughing at the way his messy curls bounced on top of his head when he made quick moves, and he was acting like an idiot in order to keep her laughing.

"They're cute," she said.

"He's gonna' be sick if he's not careful," Peter muttered. "Remus is on the sofa, by the way. He doesn't really dance, but you can try to make him."

"Have you not met me, Worms?" Genevieve asked. "I always get what I want."

With that, she sauntered over to the sofa she and Remus usually sat on in front of the fire. He had a dazed look on his face, too lost in thought to care about the music or the food. He stayed in his trance-like-state until Genevieve came into view. For a moment he was confused as to who she was, but then his eyes widened slightly and his bottom jaw hung low. "Hi," she said.

It took him a moment to find words, his eyes too busy skimming every feature of her face and the rest of her body. "Hey," he quickly said after realising he hadn't replied. His eyes squinted in confusion. "How did I manage to get with you?" he asked, more to himself.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she laughed. "You seem flustered."

"I am," Remus marvelled, his eyes still fixated on her. "I really am."

"Come dance with me," Genevieve said, taking her hand in his. He didn't budge from the sofa, though, and instead smiled apologetically at her. She tugged at his hand again. "Come dance with me."

"I can't dance."

"Yes, you can," Genevieve retorted. "I've seen you dance to Bowie when you thought no-one was watching." A thought popped into her head, like a light bulb illuminating a dark room. "Peter!" she yelled to the boy controlling the music. "Put a bit of Bowie on!"

Peter nodded and ran to the record player that had been enhanced by a charm. Just as recommended, David Bowie's voice began to fill up the whole room, the opening beat for Suffragette City making a smile dawn on Genevieve's face. "Now you have to," she said, taking a drink from her Firewhisky and then dragging Remus onto the floor.

"No. No, Genevieve, no," Remus protested, trying to fight away his smile. "I'll embarrass the both of us."

"I can't hear you!" Genevieve laughed, spinning herself under his arm and began to dance.

Remus didn't move at first. He stood in the middle of the floor with her, scratching the back of his neck nervously and mostly watching her dance. In his opinion, she was a talented dancer. That could have been because he was biased, and believed anything Genevieve did was brilliant, but he couldn't take his eyes away from her. Her body moved in sharp, energetic movements, and she never paused for breath. It amazed him how someone could be so lively, but then again, Genevieve had always been like this.

As the song went on, Remus began to dance more. He was stiff as a board, but when Genevieve took his hands and began to dance with him, he loosened up a little. She couldn't help but laugh at his unsure expression, but also couldn't help but find it cute. They varied on dancing through the Ramones, T. Rex, Queen and Fleetwood Mac. It might have been the increasing amount of alcohol being poured into Genevieve's system, or it might have been the constant energy she always had, but she never slowed once. Remus, however, was getting tired and she could tell.