If he was being brutally honest, Remus would have sworn it looked like playschool. The tall building was surrounded by grass and flowers of all kinds. There were swings, and adult wizards trying to dig their way to China in the sandpit. No doubt it was an activity to channel aggression. Peacocks strutted round the stately gardens, going into a fit when an unsuspecting child tried to feed them. He felt a hand grip his shoulder, and looked into his mother’s reassuring face. He shrugged off her hand, and dragged himself into the main reception. He didn’t want to be here, but hey. Since when was his opinion asked on anything?
Remus stopped at the front desk, and glared at the receptionist. She tapped her long fingernails impatiently as she filled in a form. He coughed loudly. She ignored him pointedly, jabbing her fingernail towards a little bell on the counter. Rolling his eyes deeply, he pinged it.
The receptionist jumped up immediately, a fake smile plastered on her face. “Good afternoon, how may I help you this fine day?”
Mrs. Lupin spoke up. “We have an appointment with a Mr...erm Hitty at three thirty?”
“You mean I’ve got an appointment.” Remus muttered darkly. Mrs. Lupin shot her son a look and turned back to the receptionist, who still had that irritating smile on her face. “Ah, yes, let me see...” She grabbed a piece of parchment, and scanned it quickly. “Remus Lupin?” He nodded. “The doctor is finishing up with another patient. He will be with you momentarily. Please make yourself comfortable.”
Remus slouched, and made his way to the waiting area. He flopped onto the couch, and grabbed a copy of PlayWizard, knowing it would irritate his mother.
His hypothesis was correct. “Remus Lupin, put that filthy trash down immediately!” Mrs. Lupin hissed, trying to grab it off him. Remus dodged, and moved away from her, pointedly flicking through it. His mother sighed, and after shooting him another death glare, left him alone. Remus found himself staring at the page entitled, ‘Entrancing Enchantments’ and groaned inwardly. He didn’t want to put down the magazine; it would show a sign of defeat. He noticed a copy of The Cursed Werewolf on the coffee table, and swore under his breath, knowing grumpily he couldn’t read it. He couldn’t believe he was back at the sodding psychiatrist’s again. He desperately wanted to kill the little rat who told his mother he tried to kill himself again. He had a strong suspicion it had been Lily.
This could not have come at a worse time. He should be with everyone else, doing homework, not wasting an afternoon with some crackpot old fool trying to analyse him. The last psychiatrist had nearly driven him up the wall, with random questions such as, how do you feel now? Wasn’t this a good thing? Do you like to read? What fun.
A voice came over on the intercom. “Would a Mr. Remus Lupin go to room 645?”
Bugger. Remus tossed the magazine onto the table, and headed up the stairs.
The door was slightly ajar. It was white, and very clean, giving Remus an uneasy feeling that the psychiatrist would be a control freak. Hurray. A whole action packed afternoon filled with questions about his personal life.
As he was about to step in the room, he noticed his mother trying to follow him, out of the corner of his eye. Remus sighed exasperatedly. “Mum, I don’t need you hovering over me. You can go. This’ll take a couple of hours, and I’m perfectly capable of flooing myself home.” Ignoring his mother’s look of surprise and hurt, he stepped into the room, and closed the door.
He sat down in the chair, in front of a desk with a nameplate inscribed with ‘Helen Hitler’. Remus looked around for Helen, but there was no sign of another human being in the room. He slumped in his chair, thinking of further ways he could irritate his mother. Not eating his broccoli. Not taking his potions. Refusing to talk to her.
He looked round the room, which was surprisingly bright. The walls were a sunny yellow and were covered with photos, and the odd award here and there. It was full of movement, and everywhere Remus looked, something caught his eye. Remus grinned at a photo of a man trying to strangle another. It looked like he was succeeding, when the other man escaped from his grasp, and dashed off. He smiled, and leaned forward to inspect it further.
A man apparated out of nowhere, a huge grin on his face. He had a slightly maniacal look to him, but kindly at the same time, his moustache twitching as he searched the room for Remus. Upon seeing him, “You must be Remus. Your mother outside?”
“Erm yeah.” Remus replied. “Why?”
“Because, psychiatrist meetings are utterly pointless with the parents present. Hello, where would be the fun in that?!”
Remus looked at him oddly. “Where's Doctor Hitty thing?” Unless he was very much mistaken, Helen was a woman’s name.
The burly man smiled happily. “That would be me yes. Helen Hitler at your service!”
Remus opened his mouth, and shut it again confusedly. “Erm. Okay then.” Helen smiled encouragingly, and sat himself on top of the desk, swinging his legs happily. Remus thought of something else. “Any relation to that psycho muggle who was mad at the Jews for taking all the jobs etc etc therefore decided the only solution was to kill then all?”
Helen winced. “Unfortunately, yes. I’m his cousin’s nephew. By the time he killed himself, I was around three. Pity really. I would have loved to try analyzing him.”
Remus gaped at him. “Why?”
“Simply because we may have discovered what caused him to kill all those innocent people, so if we ever come upon similar cases in the future, we will have a rough idea of how the minds tick.” Helen sighed heavily. “Never get on a dictator’s bad side Remus. It can have terrible consequences.”
“Now enough of me! I believe we are here because of you.” Helen skipped towards his filing cabinet, and whipped out a paper. “Says here you tried to kill yourself again with a razor.”
“You were depressed at the time?”
“Hmm. I believe this had to do with the fact you are a werewolf?”
“I bet it hurts?”
“Yep.” Remus was determined to bug the hell out of this person, but it didn’t really seem to be working.
“You go to Hogwarts yes?”
“Slightly violent eh?”
“Will you marry me?”
“Ye- NO!” Helen burst out laughing at this, an incredulous Remus watching him roll around the floor. “You should have seen the look on your face – priceless!”
“You’re supposed to be helping me, not confessing your love for me! Besides, I’m taken.” Remus lied. Now he wished more than ever he had taken Lily with him. Then he reminded himself it was Lily who had brought him into this.
“Oh you are, are you? That’s good. I hope she’s sensible.”
“Oh she is. And as stubborn as hell.” Remus smiled, thinking of Lily.
Helen smirked triumphantly. “Remind you of anyone? Anyway, I’m not here to bicker with you. I’m here to help you. And frankly, you answering me monosyllabically was quite irritating. I thought that might do the trick.”
Remus stared at his psychiatrist oddly. “You are a warped man.”
“I should hope so. Stuffy strict doctors are absolutely no fun. The key to recovery involves you being at least somewhat amused. That’s the main thing.”
“I hardly see how I can be happy with a random idiot asking me to marry him.” Remus shot back.
Helen regarded him thoughtfully. “Seems to me you’re keeping it all in. We need to find a way to let it all out. What you need, is an outlet.” He tapped his head, and then brightened. “Aha!” Helen raced to his drawer desk, and grabbed a chocolate frog.
“Chocolate?” Remus asked, nonplussed. “This is how I’m going to channel my anger?”
“Genius isn’t it?” Helen looked at the frog lovingly. “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. You are going to unwrap the frog.” Remus did as he asked. “Next, you are going to stare it in the eye.”
Remus opened his mouth, and then thought better of it. “You know what, I don’t want to know.” He looked at the frog.
“No, glare at it! GLARE REMUS, GLARE! YOU ARE ANGRY AT THE FROG! GLARE AT IT!” Helen was becoming somewhat hysterical, so Remus pretended the frog was James putting the charm on Lily.
“Okay, next, I want you to laugh evilly, make the frog scared, and then bite the head off! BITE IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT!” Helen at this point was shrieking excitedly, bouncing round the room. Remus tore the head off, and started munching happily.
“NO NO! NONE OF THIS MUNCHING AWAY LIKE A HAPPY RETARD! YOU ARE ANGRY AT THE FROG! CHOMP HARD! LET OUT ALL YOUR ANGER ON THE FROG!”
Remus munched harder, grinding the chocolateyness beneath his teeth. Then he swallowed.
“No! Mein junge, my boy, you are supposed to swallow it ANGRILY! Pretend this frog did you an injustice!”
Four frogs later, Helen was finally satisfied with Remus’s swallowing techniques, and gave him a cookie. “So what was the point of that?” Remus asked rather breathlessly.
“Let me answer your question with a question. How did you feel before this little meeting?”
“I felt angry and miserable. Because the last psychiatrist I had was a complete wanker, and made no difference whatsoever. I thought you’d be the same, but you’re actually pretty cool, give or take a few insanity points.”
Helen chuckled and looked at him firmly. “I’m sure we already agreed a sane psychiatrist is no fun. How do you feel now?”
Remus thought about it. “I feel...fine. Calm even. I can’t remember why I was unhappy.”
Helen grinned. “The point of this little excercise was to let out any depressing feelings you had before. It works on patients ninety nine percent of the time, because they were so focused on hating the frog, they forget why they were here in the first place. Yours truly thought of that little technique.” Helen pointed to a plaque on a wall. Remus craned his neck to see the words, ‘Chocolate is ALWAYS the answer.”
“So, I am assuming you are getting a lot of mood swings and urges to kill yourself yes?”
Remus nodded, completely at ease. He told Helen about the days leading up to a full moon, completely disregarding the fact that he didn’t want to say anything earlier, and how painful the transformations were. So painful in fact, Remus wanted to kill himself most days after. Helen looked at him thoughtfully. “Yes, I see you have twice the reason to be depressed at your age. This isn’t uncommon you know. I have teens flocking in here year by year.”
“I know.” Remus suddenly felt uncomfortable again. “So, will I have to come back?”
“That depends on you Remus, mein junge. If you feel this lesson was productive, you are welcome to come back. If you feel it was a waste of time, then feel free to walk out of the door.”
“Are you crazy? Of course I’m coming back! I get free chocolate!”
Helen grinned happily. “Yes, you get free chocolate. Now, I believe our time is up for now. Whenever you are feeling depressed, I want you to grab a chocolate frog, and focus your anger on it. It’ll stop you doing something you’ll regret later. And I also want you to have a few frogs handy before and after the full moon. With all the chewing, you won’t have time to think about your pain some of the time. Next week, if you come back, I think we’ll be chopping up some meat.”
“Is this the whole get-an-outlet-for-my-anger thing?”
‘Of course not! I just love cutting up raw bits of meat!”
Remus laughed, and weirdly felt for some reason that he’d enjoy it too.
“If we have time, we’ll barbecue it, and have a little picnic.” Helen added, with an unhealthy gleam in his eye.
“With frogs?” Remus was getting to see why Lily loved chocolate frogs so much.
“With frogs.” Helen confirmed.
Remus stared at him, awed. “You have to be the first psychiatrist I have known who actually makes sense, instead waffling on about books and drugs that can help me.”
Helen shrugged. “I feel that the taste of chocolate overrules everything else. It could take over the whole bloody world you know.”
Remus stood up to leave, and Helen held out his hand. Remus ignored it, and hugged him. Helen grinned at Remus. “Okay, so, I have homework for you.”
Remus gaped at Helen, and pretended to sniffle. “And here I was, thinking you were a cool psychiatrist.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby.” Helen scolded, the corners of his mouth twitching. “It isn’t that much.” Helen went back to his desk drawer, and started rifling through it. “Now where did I put the blasted thing?” Helen muttered, throwing things from notebooks to boomerangs out of his desk. “It’s here somewhere...AHA!”
For the second time that day, Helen grabbed something from his drawer, and threw it over to Remus. Reflexes came in handy most of the time. Remus looked at the CD in his hand. “What’s this?”
“Exactly what it looks like.”
Remus opened his mouth but was silenced by Helen. “Just take it home and memorize what’s on it. Trust me, it won’t be an easy thing to forget. I’ll be testing you next week, and I insist on you knowing the full contents. Okay?”
Remus nodded, and waved, grabbing a couple of frogs on the way out. As he strolled down the corridor, he couldn’t help but feel an odd affection for the man who was so clearly crazy beyond recognition.
He noticed a man dragging a sullen teen with scars on his wrists towards Helen’s office. Remus walked up to the guy and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, this guy isn’t like other psychiatrists. He’s actually mental.”
“Mental?” The guy asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Yeah. He’s so much fun, he scares you out of your wits, and basically just makes you eat a load of chocolate. Let me say you’re in for an interesting time.”
Remus grinned at him, and walked off. “Have fun.” The guy raised his eyebrows, and looked bit more cheerful, as he headed through the doorway with his father. “If this guy is as mental as you say, I definitely will.”
As Remus headed down the corridor, he could faintly hear Helen arguing with the father, who was insisting that he should remain present. Remus stepped into the fireplace with a smirk, knowing who would win the argument.
Flooing away, Remus couldn’t wait to see the look on his mother’s face when he said he loved his psychiatrist. Priceless. Utterly priceless.
After having been interrogated by his mother thoroughly, Remus retired to his bedroom. He grabbed his muggle CD player (muggles were good for something after all) and put in the CD that Helen gave him. Sliding on his headphones, he relaxed onto his bed, and pressed play, fully expecting some calming Japanese harp music or something along those lines. What he heard though, was something he had experienced only once in his lifetime, and had never wanted to hear again.
“Here’s a llama, there’s a llama, and another little llama-”
Remus shrieked with terror as the squeaky voice rang out annoyingly, and tried to fling the headphones off his head, but it just ended up in him getting tangled in the wires deeper and deeper.
Remus always thought that the squeaky little voice sounded as if it had swallowed a ton of helium.
"I was once a tree house, I lived in a cake! But I never saw the way the orange slayed the rake. I was only three years dead, but it told a tale! And now listen little child, to the safety rail.”
“MUM!” Remus hollered, desperately trying to detangle himself from the binding wires. ‘MUM, HELP ME!”
“Did you ever see a llama, kiss a llama, on the llama, llama’s llama, taste of llama, llama llama duck.”
Either Mrs. Lupin didn’t hear her son, or she preferred to let Remus battle it out with the headphones.
“Half a llama, twice the llama, not a llama, farmer llama, llama in a car alarm a llama llama duck.”
“NOOO!” Remus wailed. “Leave me be accursed llamas!” Remus had a long, dirty history with llamas, and it wasn’t pretty tale to say the least. The llamas seemed to find it amusing to chase him around everywhere and try to eat him. At least that was Remus’s theory.
“Is that how it’s told now? Is it all so old? Is it made of lemon juice, doorknob ankle cold! Now my song is getting thin, I’ve run out of luck. Time for me to retire now, and become a duck!”
Remus heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the song finish. He tried once more to pull off the headphones, but they seemed to be permanently glued to his ears. Frowning, he looked for his wand.
“Here’s a llama, there’s a llama, and another little llama-”
Remus howled in frustration, and tried to smash his CD player, but for some reason his werewolf strength had left him, and he was stuck with llamas on the brain and a sore fist. Sighing in resignation and cursing the hyperactivity of his psychiatrist, he started looking for his hammer. It was going to be a long afternoon.
A/N: I think I was on crack when I wrote this. -Laughs manically- Ahem. I really should be doing my english homework right now, so adios! Read and Review!
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