"Oh, for Morgana's sake! What went wrong this time?"

This is the question plaguing you as you pull out from the oven the charred remains of what should have been a perfectly baked cake. But you have no idea where you messed up! You double-checked every instruction. You measured every quantity twice. You even put on the silly apron like Luna suggested. But no success. Could this be an as-of-yet unknown cost of the Krazenkart? Culinary incompetence?

You scoff at the idea.

But in your hands lies the proof of your latest failure. Failure! Argh! Out of sheer frustration, you toss the pan and its content at the far wall, where it joins its fallen brethren, all victims of your ineptitude at following basic instruction.

You jump slightly when you feel a pair of arms embracing you from behind. Luna. Right. You lean into her hug. Luna hugs are nice. She still has flour in her hair from earlier. From one of your earlier mistakes. Mistakes!

You start shaking. "How many teenaged witches do you know," you groan, "that can raise inferi by the dozen, exorcise soul fragments left and right," you close your eyes, "and yet still bollocks up a recipe so bad even a dog won't eat it?"

In answer, Luna touches her cheeks to yours, and you can feel she's smiling. "Language, Alex." She tightens the hug slightly. "I'm sure you'll get it next time. You just have to figure out what went wrong."

"But you won't tell me anything! All you do is smile and tell me to try again!" You pause. Then, in a voice like silk, "You know, Luna, if you tell me now, I would be more than happy to show you my gratitude." You even wiggle a little in her arms to make your point clear.

"Oh, silly Alex!" she says in a sing-song voice. "I don't want to give you kisses as a consolation prize!" She turns her head slightly, and whispers right in your ear, "I want to give you kisses as a reward!"

Oh well, damn. She does have a point.

---

"But... By that logic, neither of us are getting kisses anytime soon," you point out.

A door opens. "Kisses? Who's talking about... Oh, Hi Alex! Hi Luna!" Sirius Black's eyes sweep around the room, taking in the destruction. "Did a tornado come through here while I was at work?" he asks uncertainly.

You disengage from Luna so fast one could have accused you of underage apparition. "Hello, my Lord Black" you greet, dropping a formal curtsy, praying to Merlin he didn't just catch you in that position.

Your friend, on the other hand, isn't so formal. "Hello Mister Black!" she smiles. "Alex here is just in the midst of baking a glorious cake. And I participate in her glorious endeavour with words of encouragements, cleaning duty, and promises of ki... mphf!" The rest of her sentense is cut off as you unceremoniously clasp your hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to preserve your little secret. And also your dignity.

"Yes," you finish for her. "We are baking a cake. Just a simple cake"

"Just a simple cake, huh? Alex, I might not be on your level of intellect, but I'm no fool either. I've never seen you cook. Ever." His eyes narrow. "So the question is: Who are you baking a cake for?"

Your eyes widen. His smirk grows. He notices the book on the counter. He moves to pick it up before you can reach it.

"'A hundred and one sugarless deserts'? Isn't that the book you got from Slytherin on your birthday?" He raises an eyebrow.

"... Yes." you ground out. Might as well be truthful. "I am indeed baking a cake for Lord Slytherin. Is that a problem, my Lord Black?" you ask, looking him straight in the eyes.

To your surprise, his posture relaxes, and, to your horor, he smiles at you with his damned loving father smile you hate so much. "A problem? Of course not." He leans on the counter. "At first I wasn't sure about this whole betrothal business, but now I see you do care a lot about him, if all this is any indication" He gestures around the room. Thankfully he doesn't comment on your blush.

"I'm also quite glad that, should anything happen, you'll have your dear friend Luna with you." There's something different in his eyes, like a mad gleam, which really puts you on edge, Almost as if...

"But enough about this boring talk!" he claps his hands and stands back straight. "I want a piece of that cake you are baking, young lady! I want to know what," he pauses to look at the title of the recipe, missing your outraged look. "I want to know what a 'Cinnamon Sensation' tastes like, and I'm sure to get the best because you'll only make the best for our old chap Slytherin!"

Later on, you will realise that 'calculating' perfectly described the look Sirius Black was giving you. You will also realise that this was the exact moment where you got tricked by a bloody light-sided wizard. All for some cake. Go figure.

"I am NOT giving you a piece of ANY cake!" The look on your face is almost comical. "First, it's not even baked yet, and second, it's for Lord Slytherin! What am I going to tell him? That I gave a piece to some stray dog in an alley? No way!"

He grins. "You could say I'm blackmailing you."

You scoff. "Blackmail me? With what?"

Privately, you really don't like where this is going. Instead of replying, he reaches inside his jacket pocket and takes out some kind of photograph. You recognize it immediately. Your blush is all the confirmation he needs.

You growl between your teeth. "Give. Me. That. Right. Now."

"Honestly, Alex, I don't understand what the big deal is," he says with shrug. "It really is a beautiful picture." He spares a look at it. "I knew you were in a good mood when we got back from meeting with Slytherin, but not that much of a good mood. I guess Luna found out first hand, didn't she?"

At that, he wiggles his eyebrows at the girl in question, who is hard at work 'cleanin-up' cake batter off a bowl with a wooden spoon. Who starts giggling. Actually giggling. The traitorous bunny. You narrow your eyes at her. She deserves every tickle you'll inflict on her later.

"Fine." You capitulate, smiling tiredly. "You'll get your piece of the cake. Now hand the photograph over and leave so we can actually bake the thing!" He laughs, but thankfully does as he is told.

You take a deep breath, and start from the beginning of the recipe again.

---

"'Preheat the oven at four-hundred and fifty degrees...'" you read aloud. you check the indicator on the oven. The display says four-hundred and fifty. Four-hundred and fifty degrees, that's pretty hot. But it shouldn't be enough to burn a cake to a crisp so thorougly. In fact, It's about two-hundred and thirty...

Degrees centigrade. Oh for Circe...

"Luna?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"Where did you say the cookbook was from, again?"

"Canada. It was surprisingly hard to come by, too. Why?"

"They use degrees Farenheit over there, right?"

"I think so. Why, it there a problem?"

"Well... The house-elf ovens over here are in degrees centigrade, aren't they?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course they are. Who in their right mind wouldn't use..." Her eyes widen, as realization strikes. "Oh, poop..."

"Oh, poop indeed..."

Oh well. At least now you can actually look forward to reward kisses later on.

---

"Alex, I've noticed you've been acting weird all during dinner. Is something bothering you?"

In all honesty, you were quite distracted all throughout the meal. Not enough to actually impact the business dealings, but definitively enough for him to notice. Thankfully with Mr. What's-His-Name gone, it's just the two of you at the table now.

"Actually," you bite your lip. "I brought you something for desert, if you want?" You cringe at hearing the uncertainty in your own voice.

"Of course, I'd be delighted." He smiles and, with a gesture from his hand, a full desert silverware materializes in front of you. You honestly never get used to these casual displays of power.

"I... I made it with Luna yesterday, I hope you like it," you say taking the box out of your purse and setting it on the table.

"Ah! So that's why she came home covered in flour last evening..." he comments while reaching for the box. "Well, I'm glad you had fun making it, because that's half the point of cooking, after all!"

You can't help but smile while watching him open the lid. You've seen him cook dinner for the group a few times already. A low whistle escapes his lips when he spies the cake inside. "Wow, it's looks wonderful. You've really outdone yourself, Alex."

Later, you would deny under veritaserum ever reacting to his praise. But right now, you can't help but blush like crazy and smile like a loon.

"What is this?"

You look down. He's pointing at the missing piece. His suspicion eyebrow is raised, even. Is he implying...?

You growl. "He blackmailed me."

He bursts out into laughter. Laughter! "Oh Alex," he tries to soothe you after seeing your indignat expression. "I'm just so glad your relationship with your father is going so well." At your curious look, he elaborates. "You two may be on different sides of politics, but he is still your father and he does love you." You make a face. He continues. "He's just trying to understand you better. At least now, you guys have at least some things to share and talk about."

"Like cake, and blackmail?" You ask, incredulous.

"Exactly!" He responds, with his Merlin-be-damned lopsided grin. You shake your head. "But enough about you and your father" He declares. "We have a must bigger issue to deal with now."

"Oh? What kind of issue? Please do tell."

"What are we going to do with this beautiful cake you made?" You roll your eyes.

"Eat it, that's what. I didn't go to all this trouble just so you could stare at it."

"Good point. Then let's get to it!"

And on these wise words, he takes a spoonful of the cake and brings it to his mouth. His eyes widen. He's silent for a few seconds. You can't help but feel your stomach drop. You did put in too much cinnamon after all.

"So? Is it good? Do you like it? Did I put in too much cinnamon or was the..."

"Alex."

"Yes Harry?"

"It's good. Really good."

"Oh. Thank you Harry."

Fin

---

Alternate title: Mistress of Inferi, Exorcisms and Cakes