If it has not yet gotten through your thick skull that I do not own the Harry Potter series, you are a blithering idiot and have wasted twenty-nine words. In the time it has taken me to disclaim this story, it could have progressed to the point at which Bellatrix was staring at Harry from the doorway, her head tilted sideways like a curious child as he read the work she'd displayed on the wall. By the time Harry had realized Bellatrix was in the room, she had moved to a position directly behind him, making him jump and nearly fall backwards into the pie she was holding.

Harry was just finishing reading, a single tear falling to the ground. In one sitting, he'd learned of another person who held a grudge against his father, been reminded of Sirius's death, and imagined Remus Lupin doing things he hoped were only a product of the darker side of his imagination. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, struggling to rush out an explanation. "I didn't mean to read your stuff, I just came in here to tidy up, and it was just there--"

"If I didn't want it seen, I wouldn't have stuck it onto the wall," Bellatrix reassured. "I'm rather proud of your progress in the Dark Arts, so I baked you a pie." She held it out at arm's length th Harry, who was intrigued and shoked by her gesture. Either this was some sort of trick, or one of them was completely mental.

"Bellatrix? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, backing away. Bellatrix took a fork out of her pocket.

"There you go again, Mr. Disagreeable. Well, are you going to try some?"

Harry had learned from experience that it was unwise to offend Bellatrix, and, although he now could have cursed her, he now felt pity for the woman whose love had been taken from her, and, besides the point, he wasn't about to start a duel over pie. He took it into his hand and dug the fork into the flaky pastry whilst Bellatrix smiled suspiciously. Her eyes grew wide as he took a bite, and it was surprisingly delectable. The texture of the warm filling was just right, and there was something about the aroma that filled the air with calmness like a scented candle. "Wow, this is good. What's in it?" he asked, taking another bite.

Bella's breathing was fast and forced, as if she was trying to repress laughter. "Oh, you know, some stuff," she answered, her voice quivering. "Cherries, strawberries, sugar, rum...my blood..."

Harry set the metal pan on top of the dismantled dresser and gaped. "Are you kidding me?" he muttered, his hands trembling as he reached for his wand, as pie was no longer so trivial when it contained something so vile a human blood.

Bellatrix's laugher died, giving way to a straight face. "My blood is in the pie, Harry," she confirmed.

The expression 'a mixed bag' can be used to describe a plastic bag that has been put into a bowl and moved in a circular motion with a spoon, but it can also apply to a situation that is both good and bad. The spoon that mixed Harry's bag came in the form of Bellatrix Lestrange, his talented and equally sadistic new tutor of the Dark Arts, who had loved, been hurt by, and killed his godfather, and had just offered him a delicious pie full of blood. He was too revolted to believe it. It couldn't be true, could it? Struggling to keep himself from throwing up, he shakily drew his wand from his pocket, aimed at her, and spoke the incantation: "Legilimens!"

Scattered images of Bella's childhood and life filled his head. Sirius handed her a wooden snake he'd enchanted so it would move...Bellatrix was sorted into Slytherin..."Get away from my friend, you scarlet woman!" James Potter was shouting..."He's your bloody cousin! You're sick! Death Eater!"...Now it was Bella's turn to yell. "Get away from him, half-breed!" Remus Lupin shot hexes at her to hold her off as he slammed the door in her face. Her eyes welled with tears... Bellatrix was branded with the Dark Mark... The screams of Frank and Alice Longbottom echoed off the walls...Sirius fell through the Veil. Bellatrix's eyes were open for the first time in years, and she realized that the very ploy she'd used to win Sirius back had actually led to his death. A part of her died along with him...Bellatrix baked a pie, thankfully containing no blood.

"What was that?" Harry asked in confusion."You just said--but--the pie, the blood, the Sirius--"

"It was a feeble attempt to trick you into performing Legilimancy, and, frankly, I'm surprised you fell for it. Of course, in the real world, you'll be up against more accomplished Occlumens than me," she smirked. "But it's a start. That was a lesson, but if you ever break into my head without my permission--"

Harry tilted his head. A greater surge of pity overcame him, and Bellatrix seemed remarkably unmenacing, so he felt perfectly comfortable cutting her off. "So you don't know Occlumency?" he asked.

"Oh, I know the theory," Bellatrix explained, "It's just that I'm out of practice. I never really have to use it, because I've just been--"

"Hiding behind the Cruciatus Curse," Harry finished for her. She nodded sadly. All that time, torture had been her shield, her comfort, she had fed off the ecstasy of her victims' screams as s Dementor feeds on human souls. "Well," he offered, "Maybe I can teach you a few things." It wouldn't be hard, he convinced himself. He'd practically been a professor the previous year, teaching Dumbledore's Army how to defend themselves, and, having deserted her master, Bellatrix would need more than Unforgivable Curses to survive.

"Will there be pie?" she asked hopefully. Harry removed a cherry and shoved it into her mouth, stem and all.

"Whatever happened to conventional methods of teaching?" he asked. Bellatrix spit the stem into her hand, having tied it in a knot in her mouth.

"What? I've been bored," she explained. Crazy, more likely.

"Expecto patronum." A single strand of silvery matter erupted from the tip of Bellatrix's wand. She sighed a hopeless sigh. "I used to be able to do this," she insisted, glaring at the cloaked contraption of clothespins and silverware they were trying to pass off as a Dementor.

"You need to find a happy memory," Harry explained for the umpteenth time. "Or perhaps it would help if you were faced with an actual Dementor."

"NO!" Bellatrix shrieked. Harry could tell she despised them almost as mush as he did. She shivered at the very thought of them, a frightful expression overcoming her features as she pieced together her recollections. "When I was in Azkaban they made me hurt, they made me think of things...and Sirius wasn't helping, we kept shouting and arguing across the corridor..."

"Focus. I know you've got happy thoughts buried in your head somewhere," Harry said, speaking to her like one might console a child. "Happy thoughts, Bella." He stroked her hair lightly; she siezed his hand and pulled it away, scowling. She drew her wand once more, closing her eyes. Her stance became eerily still for moments that turned into minutes, and a smile came and went across her face. "Any day now," Harry breathed silently.

"I'm trying to concentrate!" Bellatrix snapped, her eyes widening into a menacing glare. She closed them once more, and, having finally settled on a single memory, spoke the incantation: "Expecto patronum!" A silver haze was emmitted from her wand, shining brightly, but still amorphus. She opened her eyes and gazed with wonder upon her creation before it fizzed into nothingness once more. "I did it!" she exclaimed, smiling with satisfaction. "You're a really good teacher, Harry," she whispered, sounding breathless. This was one of the things he never expected her to say. He wanted to tell her, 'So are you', but she continued speaking and his compliment was lost in their conversation. "Who taught you?"

"Remus Lupin," Harry said, bracing himself for harsh comments. He had seen her thoughts and knew she wouldn't take kindly to the mention of Lupin's name.

"I hate him," she said, exactly as Harry had predicted. She turned away, peering through the curtains at the sunlit street. Harry turned to leave, and Bellarix seemed to speak to herself her next words. "Sirius took me to a Muggle carnival once. He won me a wooden snake and used an animation charm on it. Then he dragged me onto one of those infernal 'roller coasters' with him, and halfway through, he said, 'So, this is what it feels like to be Crucio'd into insanity!'" A grin was brought to both Harry's and Bellatrix's faces.

"How did you respond?" Harry asked.

"I vomited," Bellatrix stated with a peaceful sigh. "Crucio'd into insanity," she repeated. "That was the inside joke between me and Sirius. I was the only one who ever acted on it. And after we went our separate ways, I suppose I took it with me..."

Harry shuddered. She had built a legacy of fear on an inside joke. "Was that the memory?" he asked.

"No, I just said that out of total randomness. OF COURSE IT WAS THE MEMORY!" Bellatrix snapped, sounding exasperated as if doing light magic for a change had drained her energy. Harry turned to leave. She's such a mystery, he said inside his head, taking a last glance at her before rounding the corner. She was also rather beautiful, staring into nothingness, contemplating, seeming relatively normal for a change. Indeed, when Bellatrix wasn't a threat to his physical being, she was quite attractive.

Bad Chosen One, Harry scolded himself in his mind. He reminded himself not to forget who she was: a sadist, a torture master, a criminal...who he'd grown rather fond of... That's not normal! he told himself, She's older than your mother would be! It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from banging his head onto the wall to try and knock out those thoughts. He was forced to laugh a little at himself: he felt like a bloody House Elf.