Beverly wondered how this connected with Muggle Studies. Everyone ate pizza, including wizard folk. Or...did they not and she's been living like a muggle her entire life since she had enough teeth to eat with and...BAH. That would be BLASPHEMY. She'd never forgive herself because there was no way on this planet she would give up eating pizza. Ever.

Coming back to her senses, she realized she'd thought way too ahead. Was the cooking spray muggle? Not the wizard's kind? She snatched up the can and read every single word on the label. Didn't appear to be off. Hmm. She'll ask later. Her pizza needed to be done and baked first.

Taking another bowl, she sprayed some of the cooking spray on it, twirling it so she wouldn't double spray areas. It was the way her mom taught her so many years ago. Mellow. Focusing on the matter at hand, she finished with they spray and placed the dough in the bowl.

Pat, pat, pat.

What nice dough. All her work. ALL her. Perfect. It looked small in the bowl, but soon it'd rise and become a glorious piece of dough, which would then be transformed into a pizza, which THEN will end up a meal. YES.

Covering it up, she cleaned her area while she waited. It was a habit.