Chapter Three
It was the day of Harry Potter's first quidditch match, but nobody cared. Bellatrix Lestrange, the cleverest and most beautiful dark witch of their times, certainly had far more important things on her mind. As she was jostled and shoved by crowds of students, who were headed to the Quidditch pitch decked out those ridiculous scarves in their House colours, she saw a tall gaunt handsome man in an absurdly lengthy Gryffindor scarf, evidently trying to blend into the crowd and failing.
"REMUS LUPIN!?" she yelled.
Her yell startled him. He jumped up like a cat that had had a bucket of Butterbeer thrown over it. "Shhhh!" he whispered loudly, though he was completely ignored by the crowds of students. "Bellatrix, I'm supposed to be undercover here at Hogwarts. Sirius asked me to keep an eye on Harry. He seems to think someone will try to endanger him here at Hogwarts. Especially since the last Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was fired."
"Ha!" Bellatrix threw her head back and laughed. Her long black hair smacked a poor unsuspecting Hufflepuff child in the face, who staggered and fell down. "As usual, Lupin, you haven't heard what's going on. I am Hogwarts' new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts! And, in fact, I have a duty to keep an eye out for suspicious characters infiltrating the castle, like you."
"Suspicious characters?" Tears sprang to Lupin's eyes. "Bella, don't you remember? Our… our past?"
Bellatrix's eyes widened. A memory swarmed into her mind…
FLASHBACK
"Keep your eyes closed, Bella," Lupin said, as he led her by the hand. "I want this to be a surprise."
"Of course, Lupie," purred Bellatrix, peeking only slightly through her lowered eyelids. She saw that he was leading her up the stairs to the seventh floor, towards the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. So the Room of Requirement, hmm...
"Okay, you can open your eyes now."
There was a table covered with a tablecloth and six candles burning on it. Two places were set, and by each place a strange-looking bottle was near. In the middle of the table was a strange circle. It did not look at all edible.
"What is this, Remus?"
"Pi-zza," said Lupin proudly, pronouncing it in a brightly and dubiously Italian way. "Molto bene, sì?"
Bellatrix stared at the strange food. It looked so absurd it had to be Muggle in origin. It was so red with chunks on it, like if a large owl had been run over by a lorry. "It does look like it's moulting," she said, wondering why the hell Lupin had thought this would be something she would like. When she had agreed to go on a date with him, this was not what she had had in mind. She had imagined they could go for a romantic walk in the Forbidden Forest under the light of the full moon...
"I arranged for it to be delivered to Slyfinger's Contactless Pick-up, a shop in Hogsmeade that poses as Muggles to accept Muggle deliveries, o mio babbino caro. Mamma mia, it cost me a fortune!Go on, try some, amore."
Very reluctantly, Bellatrix picked up one of the weird triangles that Lupin cut from the big circle. She nibbled on the corner and started choking violently.
"Here," Lupin said, quickly passing her a slim green bottle. "It goes well with beer."
Bella did not have the capacity to ask Lupin what in Merlin's name beer was, so she snatched the bottle from Lupin and drained it all in one gulp. Relief washed through her veins with the alcohol. Or maybe that was just the alcohol. Hmm, maybe the Muggles do get some things right, on the odd occasion. But even the beer couldn't wash out the taste of this horrid concoction Lupin had served her… and the terrible texture of the cheese and crust and...
"Bella, I'm so glad you're here with me," Lupin said earnestly. "I want to tell you something about me, but I'm afraid you'll be disgusted with me…"
"Wait a moment," Bellatrix interrupted rudely. "Lupin… I think I understand. You were afraid to tell me… that this pizza... is vegetarian!" She spat the word out with utter loathing.
"What? No! Firstly, Bellatrix, this pizza is not vegetarian. Look, there's prosciutto on it."
"Prosciutto? What the hell is prosciutto?"
"PrrroSCIUtto," Lupin explained, again with highly doubtful Italian pronunciation, "is a sweet, delicate, seasoned and air-cured ham that is meant to be eaten raw. I ordered prosciutto di Parmi, a product of superior quality that is highly traceable throughout the entire production process, by quality control inspection stamps and markings. It is an artisanal and unique product that has earned a certified Protected Designation of Origin status, which makes it expensive due to importation costs and its high quality. Whatever that means." He frowned. "I told them to put the prosciutto on after the pizza was baked, but they didn't. Unfortunately, it's more like bacon now." This is a true story about what happens if you put prosciutto on your pizza before baking it, like a fool. (What a fool!)
Bellatrix poked a thin crispy ridge of prosciutto with her finger. "I beg your pardon, but this is not meat. This is an insult to meat."
"Secondly, Bella, there's something else I'm trying to tell you…"
"Actually, no. This would be an insult to meat, if there were any of it to begin with..."
"I was very young when I received the bite…"
"...and who would even want to eat all this bread? And cheese? And- " Bellatrix shuddered - "... tomato sauce? Tomatoes?"
"I'M A WEREWOLF, BELLA!" Lupin roared. "BUT YOU'RE A MONSTER! ONLY A MONSTER COULD FAIL TO APPRECIATE PIZZA, THE PINNACLE OF MUGGLE CUISINE!"
"This pizza thing is stupid," sneered Bellatrix. She was dimly aware that Lupin had said something else too that could be important, but she was too appalled by the pizza to pay attention.
"DO YOU EVEN -" Lupin stopped, aware that Bellatrix was paying him no attention whatsoever, and stomped out of the room.
When he had gone (it was a relief to have his yelling stop), Bellatrix was bored. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Suddenly she smelled something that did remind her of bacon. She sniffed the pizza cautiously. Then she picked off a shard of torched prosciutto and crunched it. It was decent.
The door burst open and Lupin came storming back in. Without a word, he took Bellatrix's now prosciutto-less slice of pizza and ate it.
Bellatrix and Lupin consumed the rest of the pizza in silence. Then they snogged for hours (it was the best date either of them had been on)...
Midnight, not a sound from the pavement.
Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone.
In the lamplight the withered leaves collect at my feet,
And Remus Lupin, who is a werewolf, begins to moan.
END FLASHBACK
Bellatrix, now Hogwarts Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, came back to her senses. She was at the Quidditch pitch.
It was Harry's first Quidditch match, and he was desperately trying to hang on to his broomstick as it bucked wildly in the air, attempting to throw him off. Obviously someone was jinxing the broom, but Bellatrix couldn't be bothered trying to find the cause of it. She hoped it was Draco practising his inanimate object curses.
"Bleeaarghhh…" Harry started vomiting all over the ground. Chunks in red goop splattered on the ground landing neatly in a circle as the broomstick spun Harry round and round. Why was it so red? What the hell was the Great Hall serving the little maggots for breakfast these days? The circle of vomit reminded her of something… that ridiculous pizza thing that Lupin had served to her all those years ago!
"Bella," Dumbledore said, panting as he hurried over to her, "thank goodness you're here! It looks like Harry needs help! Obviously he has inherited none of James' excellent Quidditch skills so he has no idea how to ride a broomstick! Can you do something to help him?"
Bellatrix sighed loudly. Dumbledore was such a fool, but he was her boss and he was handsome.
"Accio broomstick!" she cried. The nearest broomstick came flying out from under an unfortunate Slytherin Beater, who crashed to the ground screaming.
"Good thinking, Bella!" Dumbledore cried. He pointed his wand at Lupin's red-and-gold Gryffindor scarf and Transfigured it into a broomstick. The broomstick had red-and-gold racing stripes.
"Nooooo! My scarf!" Lupin moaned, as Dumbledore whizzed away.
As Bellatrix swooped through the air, she saw two more figures on broomsticks. "LUPIN?" she yelled. "VOLDIE?"
Harry swooped past on his broom, which was still jerking crazily through the air. Thinking quickly, Bella swiped the bat from the still-screaming Beater on the ground and flew after Harry, raising the bat and swinging with all her might as he came past her again. It connected with his stomach, setting off a renewed bout of vomiting, and he flew off the jinxed broom and landed on top of the Slytherin Beater who was now covered in red gloop too.
"BELLA HELP" yelled Voldemort, who somehow had stolen the Quaffle from one of the students and was flying maniacally towards the Gryffindor goalposts while being chased by a Bludger. Bella threw him the bat as he passed her the Quaffle, and she neatly tossed it into the hoop as he fended off the Bludger, the two of them working in tandem like a well-oiled machine.
"Albus, catch!" screamed Lupin, passing the Quaffle, just in time for it to be intercepted by Bellatrix, who flew past cackling evilly.
"Sorry, sorry," Dumbledore panted, attempting to make a U-turn on his broom but veering wildly off course. As he flew around in a muddle, Bellatrix flung the Quaffle through Gryffindor's hoops, scoring another goal.
"Dammit, Albus!" Lupin screamed. "Okay, I've got the Quaffle again - catch!"
Albus missed pitifully, and Bellatrix scored another goal. This repeated itself a few times. Until...
"Take that!" Voldemort shrieked, beating a Bludger towards Dumbledore. But he missed completely and the Bludger struck Bellatrix on the back of the head, knocking her out cold. She plummeted to the ground like a drunken hippogriff. "Noooooo! Bellaaaa!" Voldemort yelled, diving to catch her.
"Bellaaaaa! Noooooo!" Dumbledore yelled, also diving to catch her.
There was a loud crack as Dumbledore and Voldemort collided in midair. Fortunately, they landed first, cushioning Bellatrix's fall when she landed heavily on top of them. Lupin caught the Snitch. It was his proudest moment at Hogwarts, but nobody noticed.
Bellatrix Lestrange felt a searing pain in her head. She opened her eyes. The light, it was so bright, it made her want to throw up. "Did I get into the house elves' moonshine again last night?" she groaned. "Come on, Bella, after last Monday you told yourself you would try to have standards…"
"There's no moonshine here, Bella," Dumbledore boomed. "Someone knocked you unconscious while you were playing Quidditch." Dumbledore shot Voldemort a glare.
"It was just a teeny tiny Bludger," Voldemort grumbled. "Bellatrix is just a pansy."
"Voldemort, you're a jerk!" Dumbledore gasped.
"And Dumbledore, you're a shitty Quidditch player!" Lupin
"Well, Lupin, you're a werewolf!" Dumbledore yelped, bright red in the face. He clapped both hands over his mouth.
"It doesn't matter, Albus. We all knew that already," Voldemort said wearily.
"What?! I didn't know that," Bellatrix retorted. "Lupie, why didn't you tell me?"
Lupin puffed himself up, glorying in the attention. "I did! That one time in the Room of Requirement! When I was madly in love with you! You may be the most beautiful and powerful dark witch of our times, Bella, but you're a bad listener! And you - you - you don't appreciate pizza!"
Everyone except Bellatrix gasped.
"What," Bella asked irritably. "It's disgusting, not even the burnt bacon bits can redeem it."
"Not burnt bacon bits!" Lupin sniped. "PrrroSCIUtto di Parrrrrrmi! Just that the silly man at the pizza shop insisted on putting it on the pizza before it went in the oven, not after, like I'd specified!"
Voldemort and Dumbledore both looked impressed at Lupin's still-shocking pronunciation, which had not improved in the years since their pizza date.
"But I knew then, Bella, when you turned up your nose at pizza, that we could never be together!" Lupin sniffed. "I knew, when you could not, would not, appreciate the ooey gooey-ness of the melted margherita cheese, the crunch of the crust and the tart yet sweet bite of the vine-ripened tomato sauce, that we would never work."
"Mmmm, that sounds like a cracker of a pizza," Dumbledore mumbled dreamily.
"Stop it, you're starting to drool Albus," said Bellatrix crossly.
"Well it was a great pizza," Lupin grumbled.
"You know, after all that physical exertion, and now all this talk about pizza, I'm feeling a little peckish," remarked Voldemort. "I had initially meant to verbally eviscerate you Bella, about taking on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job without even consulting me, your Dark Lord, about it, but I'm not too sure I want to even be the Dark Lord of someone who can't appreciate pizza."
"W-w-what do you mean, 'had meant to', Voldie?" Bellatrix stammered. This was not how it was supposed to go. She had a head injury for Merlin's sake, and was lying in the Hospital Wing! They should be fighting over who would get the privilege to sit by her bedside and hold her hand!
"I know a good pizza place in Muggle London actually!" beamed Dumbledore. "It's called Franco Manca, they do an excellent sourdough pizza!"
Voldemort clapped his hands together. "That sounds perfect. Lead the way Dumbledore, I'm starving. Bye Bella, hope you're feeling better soon."
"Bye Bella!" chimed Dumbledore, eyes twinkling at the thought of one of Franco Manca's delicious roasted cured ham, British mozzarella, ricotta and wild mushroom pizzas, with just a little bit of tomato sauce.
Lupin sniffed loudly again and side-eyed a pale Bellatrix, shocked into silence by the abrupt departure of her several suitors.
"See you around, Bellatrix, maybe" Lupin mumbled, and blindly reached for his scarf before remembering that Dumbledore had Transfigured it into a broom earlier and then totaled it colliding with Voldemort.
Bellatrix flopped back into her pillows as the three wizards trooped out of the Hospital Wing, with Dumbledore promising to bring Madam Pomfrey a pizza as thanks for the good care she was taking of Bellatrix. She was Bellatrix Lestrange! Men did not abandon her to go get pizza, of all things! She started sniffling quietly to herself as reality began to sink in, and she had to accept that she had, in fact, been abandoned in her hour of need, for pizza. But she would show them. She would rise above.
But right now...
With a groan, she started digging through her robes. With satisfaction, her fingers closed around a hard flat object. She drew out her robe-flask, engraved with the Black family crest and the motto TOUJOURS IVRE, a joke birthday present from Narcissa when they were teenagers. Cissy had been horrified when Bellatrix actually started using it daily. It was still mostly full of Indentured Servi-brewed, the house elves' latest seasonal moonshine blend. She took a hefty swig from the robe-flask and almost immediately began to sob drunkenly. She was Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's best lieutenant and Dumbledore's best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor ever.