Sarai McKinnon grew up in her godfather Remus's household. Not knowing her parents as her mother died at an early age and her father abandoning her. Remus was all she had to turn to. As a third year at hogwarts things are about to change as her "Dad...
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The more time Sarai spent at the manor that day, the more confused she was about Blaise. He walked around confidently throwing remarks left and right, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was trapped. His guard was up the entire time that day, and he was a bit snarkier than usual. That was until he started cooking. He had taken to giving Sarai a tour around the mansion as the pair eventually made their way back to the kitchens.
Sarai sat patiently at one of the bar stools as she watched Blaise work around the house elves. He had abandoned his purple blazer on the chair next to Sarai, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. Sarai watched silently as Blaise effortlessly sliced through an onion, barely blinking in the process of it. She could see a hint of a smile on his face as he focused on cooking.
She hadn't asked what he was cooking, she simply just watched him work. Despite the tense nature around the manor, Blaise's shoulders looked more relaxed while he was in the kitchen. His jaw was no longer clenched and he seemed to move swiftly through the kitchen. It was like she watching Sirius at the markets again. Sarai couldn't help but smile as she watched Blaise cook. It was the first time all day she had seen him relaxed. She had started to worry about him. Especially after reading Astorias letter.
"You're smiling." Blaise said looking up from his cutting board.
Sarai snapped out of her thoughts to focus on Blaise. "Is there a reason I shouldn't?" She asked innocently.
Blaise gave her a suspicious look before shaking his head a smile threatening to show on his own face. "No, go ahead and smile at nothing. You look like an airhead though."
Sarai scowled at the insult. "Are you ever nice?" She asked.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. He gestured to the room around him.
"Are you not watching me cook for you at this very moment?"
Sarai shrugged, "Fair point." She said. "What are you making anyways?"
She watched as Blaise tossed mushrooms, onions and carrots into a large pot. "It's a French dish," he explained. "Astoria picked up a recipe from France over the holidays for me. I can't pronounce the name for the life of me."
Sarai peered over at the pot curiously, "Try to anyways."
Blaise gave her annoyed look before he mumbled something.
"Pardon?"
"Cock oven!" Blaise said in a louder voice.
Sarai stared blankly at Blaise before trying to bite down a laugh. "Erm—-what?"
"I'm not saying it again McLupin."
Sarai giggled, before hopping off from the barstool to make her way over to the stove. Inside the large pot she could see some sort of broth simmering with chicken legs bobbing to the top. She could smell the aroma of the vegetables start to wean through as it cooked at a low heat.
