[I looked it up and turns out Warhammer 40K really has something called the Holy Blood Brotherhood. So, I've changed it to the "Templar Brotherhood" instead.]

[We work in the dark. And—Okay, fine, the name is just some random mashup of the Knights Templar and the Assassin Brotherhood.]

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Chomp chomp chomp...

"Are the four of us really going to finish nine of the biggest pizzas on the menu?" Harry looked at the mountain of pies in front of them with a helpless expression.

"No choice... who the hell knew we'd run into the Mafia just coming out for pizza?" Lupin said miserably.

Here's how it went down...

After Kasen and the others ordered the Italian High-Blood-Pressure Combo Meal™, a certain unnamed Mafia godfather, who was quietly enjoying some authentic Italian pizza in the corner, warmly invited the four of them over to his table.

He even kindly ordered them nine of the biggest and most authentic Italian pizzas, along with four full jugs of espresso.

And he even paid the bill for them.

His only request?

Eat every last crumb of pizza and drink every drop of coffee...

"I seriously doubt—wait, what the hell? Where'd the pizza go?" Harry had been grumbling one second, and in the next, three out of the nine pizzas had vanished without a trace.

"What, you think I wouldn't be starving after driving all night without a wink of sleep?" Kasen chugged a huge gulp of espresso to wash down a mouthful of pizza, then offered that one-liner as an explanation.

"And you two?" Harry turned to look at Lupin and Sirius, only to sigh helplessly. "You were drooling in your sleep last night, but the two of us spent the whole damn night exhaling carbon dioxide at that cursed sapling."

After saying that, Lupin grabbed another slice of pizza and offered it to one of the Mafia members standing behind him. "Gotta admit, it really is good. You want a slice, brother?"

"No, thanks." The Mafia guy looked at the three grown men inhaling pizza like they hadn't eaten in eight lifetimes, and swallowed hard.

The feeling was like slapping someone across the face only for them to enjoy it—no satisfaction at all.

"Suit yourself." chomp chomp chomp!

Lupin shrugged and devoured another slice like a tornado. In less than ten minutes, Kasen let out a final burp, and the four of them strutted out of the pizza shop like they owned the place.

The godfather who had been sitting in the corner walked out slowly, watching them go with a sigh: "Ah… youth."

Meanwhile, now full, the four began searching for their next stop. At Kasen's suggestion, they decided to find a place with decent drinks. Before long, they stumbled across a quiet little pub.

"The pizza was good, yeah," Lupin said, loosening a few buttons on his waistband and letting out a long sigh before taking a swig of booze, "but we really rushed it."

"If you couldn't finish it, why didn't you back out? What's the big deal—just a few Memory Charms, right?" Sirius asked in confusion. He'd genuinely thought Lupin could handle that much pizza.

"Come on, Sirius, we didn't exactly go through proper international travel approval. If the Italian Ministry of Magic catches you, you'll be scrubbing floors in Diagon Alley as community service."

Sirius gave Lupin a weird look, like he was genuinely concerned.

"What's with that look?"

Sirius shook his head. "Just checking if you're already drunk. Since when does Italy have a Ministry of Magic?"

Kasen poured himself another glass of wine. "What do you mean? Italy doesn't have one?"

Sirius nodded. "It really doesn't. Lupin should've remembered that too—but maybe he just forgot for a second. It's a leftover issue from Italy's magical history."

Kasen squinted at him. "Have you been hanging out with Dumbledore too much? You starting to speak in riddles now?"

"Haha, it's just some super obscure magical history. The kind that never shows up on exams. My mother made me read all those books, you know—Ugh.. too much trauma.. But if you really want to know, I can tell you." Sirius took a sip of his drink to wet his throat.

"In the 11th century, there was this special magical organization in southern Italy called the Templar Brotherhood. What made them different was that they believed in God."

"These God-believing wizards were fundamentally different from us regular wizards. I mean, when we shout 'Merlin's stockings!' or 'Merlin's underpants!' it's just a way to show surprise—but these guys? They actually had to pray to that God every time they cast a spell."

Kasen nodded. "So right now, Italy's magical world is controlled by this Templar Brotherhood? No Ministry of Magic at all?"

"Of course not. They only exist in history. See, they once helped the Church launch witch hunts against wizards…"

Sirius stopped halfway and, noticing Kasen's odd expression, quickly clarified, "Their hostility toward wizards came from the belief that wizards used magic without showing respect to the God of Magic. Muggles don't have magic, and young wizards can still be molded—so in their eyes, we were just lost lambs in need of their guidance."

"Damn. Go on," Kasen nodded again.

"They took part in the witch hunts, which indirectly pushed the wizarding world to implement the Statute of Secrecy. Once that came into effect, the magical community across Europe began isolating the Templar Brotherhood—and basically the whole Italian magical world too. Beauxbatons in France even started cross-border admissions, hauling every newly awakened Italian wizard and their entire family straight over to France."

"And just like that, this so-called Brotherhood lost almost all their young blood to Beauxbatons. With no new generation, they began to decline—and eventually started doing shady stuff like kidnapping underage wizards and brainwashing them."

Hic… "It's really that dangerous here?" Harry asked, more curious than concerned.

He didn't doubt his personal safety—after all, with these three adults at his side, maybe they weren't the most reliable when it came to planning, but when it came to a fight?

No one would dare question that!

Sirius downed the last sip of his drink in one go. "Uh… unofficial history."

"So you… hic… told us all that… hic… just to mess with us?" Harry's voice suddenly jumped up about eight octaves.

Kasen patted Harry on the head. "Alright, alright, just treat it like a bedtime story. We ate nine of the Mafia godfather's pizzas for free—call it digestion material."

Hic! Harry burped again. "You guys are riding the pizza high—I'm just… hic… stuffed to the brim."

"Maybe… have something to help it go down?" Sirius had just finished his sentence when Lupin's giant hand came crashing down on his head from above like divine judgment.

"It was bad enough you gave him dirty porno magazines—now you're getting him drunk too? You really are living up to the title of godfather!"

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