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War raged through the Wizarding World like a fire burning out of control, leaving scars on both the land and the people. Nowhere felt safe, not even inside the stone walls of Hogwarts. Their last year had been dire. It had seemed like every day there was news of death and destruction, muggleborns crying as their families were torn apart in massacres, half-bloods living in fear that they’d return to a broken home, even the purebloods, the ones like James, had gone pale whenever a letter had dropped in front of them at breakfast.
Now they were free of school it wasn’t much better, but at least they were able to join the fight. Only with fighting came a whole new kind of stress. Every time Sirius was sent out on a mission without him, James would be fretting until his partner was back home and safe, the hours ticking by like poisonous snails.
It was hell on earth.
Sirius had been gone nearly two weeks and the flat they shared had never been tidier. Every time James saw something even a little bit out of place he had to fix it, and when he couldn’t find anything wrong he ended up just pacing around the cramped space. Not even a night out with Moony and Wormtail in the nearby woods had helped like it usually did.
Which was probably why he was trying to bake a cake.
Now James was brilliant at a good many things, he knew that, and it wasn't even arrogance on his part – just fact. Transfiguration was child's play. Charms, charming, charisma… he'd had that all down before Hogwarts had even begun. Even the more frowned upon subjects for purebloods were easy for him, a lifelong fascination with muggles served him well, although Sirius would blame eleven year old James' crush on Lily Evans.
The one thing James couldn't do was cook, no matter how much Sirius told him it was just like muggle potions.
And yet, there he was.
The poor kitchen looked like the Death Eaters had raided it, even after two weeks of obsessive cleaning. James' face was smeared with egg, his hair was snowy white from the flour, and the "kiss the cook" apron was covered in chocolate and cocoa powder. But there was a cake tin in the oven and his efforts didn't look too bad despite the mess. It was a chocolate fudge cake – Sirius' favourite.
Now all he needed was for his boyfriend to return home.
Alas… James was alone.
Whilst the cake was baking he decided to clean up. He turned the wireless up to max and he threw his apron in the laundry basket. The cleaning frenzy had begun. Of course, he could have charmed the dishes to clean themselves but that wouldn't help his restlessness, so instead he did it all by hand, singing and dancing as he flitted around the kitchen. The cabinets were scrubbed, the dishes were washed, the floor was mopped.
James was halfway through wiping down the surfaces when he felt arms wrapping around his waist. With anyone else he would have reached for his wand, but he knew Sirius' touch in an instance. He grinned as he melted against his boyfriend’s chest. Sirius’ chin rested on his shoulder, then he turned to kiss James' cheek.
"Is that chocolate cake?" Sirius mumbled into the crook of James' neck. His arms tightened around James' waist as he pressed against his back.
"Chocolate fudge cake."
The familiar scent of muggle smokes and leather washed over James, and he could feel himself relaxing with every breath he took. The tension eased from his muscles and the ache in heart faded away. Sirius was home – safe.
James put down the cloth and pulled his wand from his pocket, muttering a series of spells until the kitchen came to life with magic. He turned in Sirius' embrace, facing his lover. There were dark circles under Sirius' eyes and there was a faded scar on his temple that hadn't been there before. James frowned, letting his fingertips brush against the mark.
"Who did this?"
Sirius shook his head. "Dead."
"Good," James growled, trying to dampen the rage that burned through him, and then pressed their foreheads together. "Welcome home, Si."
Home. Safe. Together.