McKinnon

| CHAPTER TWENTY ONE |

    The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. Sarai and the rest of the third years of the school had never been given so much homework to complete. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one. 
    "Call this a holiday!" Seamus roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?" 
    Sarai nodded, as she flexed her hand. It had started cramping from the countless essays she had written throughout their break. But despite the throbbing pain in her right hand, she was very grateful she wasn't Hermione. Despite dropping her Divination class, which Sarai had already commended her for, she was still taking more subjects than anyone else. There had been multiple nights, where Sarai had awoken to Hermione returning to the dorm much later than the rest of her dorm mates. She was also the first one to leave the dorms in the early morning to continue her endless preparations for her exams. 
   "She's starting to look worse than Uncle Remus, when he falls ill." She commented to Dean, who was currently working on a potion essay. 
   "I haven't a clue as to why she's taken so many subjects this year," Dean said in agreement, "I wonder how she'll be able to get through the exams this year." 
     Meanwhile, as the end of the Easter holiday drew near, so did the tension for the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been seeker. Blaise had somehow warped Sarai into quite an expensive bet on the match, that day in Ancient-Runes together. Sarai was placing all her hopes in Harry and his shiny new Firebolt. She'd claimed boldly to Dean and Seamus that she'd rather eat her own sock than have to lose to Slytherin this match. 
     Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, resulting in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.
    Sarai pitied Harry, who was taking the brunt of it all. She had heard from Seamus that multiple students from Slytherin house, would stick their legs out in the corridors in an effort to trip him. It had gotten so bad, that the entirety of Gryffindor House had taken the challenge to walking Harry to his classes, and anywhere else he wanted to roam throughout the castle. 
   Sarai could hardly focus in class, and she had an especially difficult time through her Defense Against the Dark Arts' class. She had yet to speak to Remus about the spat that they had that day in his office, and she was skillfully avoiding the topic entirely. She was always one of the last students to arrive to his class, and the first to leave when class was dismissed. 
   However, as stubborn as Sarai was on avoiding Remus, her Uncle was just as stubborn as speaking with her. The day before the famous quidditch match, he requested for her to stay behind after class. 
   "Sorry, Professor," Sarai said, without an ounce of regret in her voice. The rest of her class was filing out of of the room, Dean and Seamus shooting her looks. "But I'll be late for my next class." 
   Remus raised an eyebrow, and gave her a look as if to question, 'Really?' But he remained unfazed, "It won't take long. I'll write you a pass." He insisted. 
   Sarai frowned, but remained standing in the classroom, relenting to her Uncle's request. Remus seemed to have taken the hint, because he let out a small breath of relief. He then  made his way to shut the classroom door after Parvati and Lavender, whom were the last two students to exit the room. While his back was turned, Sarai shifted her weight uncomfortably. She had been dreading their next conversation since their spat. She still had no idea what to even say, about the whole thing. The entire debacle had left her speechless. Sarai hadn't even known what to expect, when they finally did speak for the first time in what seemed like ages. 
  "Now," Remus said, interrupting Sarai from her thoughts, "Please, take a seat." He motioned to a chair that had been pulled up to his desk. 
   Sarai plopped down in the wooden seat, eyeing Remus carefully. Remus, himself looked as if he didn't know how to start the conversation, as he glanced around quickly at the empty room, before taking a seat in front of her. 
   "I've some progress on the Himitsu-baku." Sarai said, gingerly pulling out the box from her bag. "Check it out."  
    Remus very gratefully took the piece-offering, Sarai held out towards him and examined it closely.
   "Wow, you're really getting there, Sarai." Remus said impressed. "Great job." 
   "Thank you," Sarai said quietly, looking down at her hands. "So..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Remus expectantly. 
   "I want to start off with an apology," Remus said, thoughtfully. "My anger, and my actions were a poor display as your Uncle." 
   Sarai fiddled with her thumbs uncomfortably, "Yeah," She mumbled, "It was." 
   "When I had found out you were with that dog--" 
"Snuffles." Sarai interrupted defiantly. 
Remus paused for a moment to study her. His face had an unreadable expression on it. 
   "Snuffles." He amended carefully. "When I found out you were with Snuffles, I was beyond terrified."
   "But why?" Sarai demanded, "Why is Snuffles so dangerous? And how did you find out? You told me you were holed up in your office all day that Saturday." 
   Remus bowed his head in acknowledgement to her questions, as he pulled out a small packet of parchment and placed in on the desk. Sarai craned her neck, but the parchment was blank. She furrowed her brows, "Um, Remi? This is blank." She said flatly. 
    "Patience," Remus chided gently, before pulling his wand from his robe pocket. He pointed his wand to the parchment and said clearly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."