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The Session by potterprincess07
Chapter 1 : The Session
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 15

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 A/N: I hope you enjoy this. I usually don’t write second person narration, or comedy. I’m just not very good at it. However, this is in response to two separate challenges, Majikat's Second Person Narration Challenge as well as JaneTwilight's Make Me Laugh Challenge  and I decided to combine them. So without further ado, here you go.

Oh, and yes, the characters are EXTREMELY ooc. It’s meant to be part of the charm.



You walk into your office and jump slightly when you realize that your clients are already in the room waiting for you.

“I thought I was supposed to tell when they could come in?” you mutter to yourself as you walk all the way in and sit down at your desk. You wipe your hand across your mouth, hoping to wipe away any traces of your earlier lunch, as well as to make sure you had taken care of everything as you had left the bathroom, making certain that you have zipped up as well as there isn’t any toilet paper stuck to your shoe (it has happened before, you remember).

You finally decide that you had wasted enough time and look at the people - if you could call them people - that were sitting in the room and make a mental groan to yourself. What had you gotten yourself into?

Forcing a smile onto your face, you turn to the gentleman, that is seated nearest to you and say, “Would you like to start? I think we should go around the circle and all introduce ourselves.”

You are met with a glare and a low, cold voice. “We all know who we are.”

“How about we do it just to say that we did it?” you ask, realizing that this session hasn’t even started yet and you were already feeling a headache coming on.

The woman next to him gently nudges his arm and hisses, “Just go along with it, dear,” with a definite emphasis on the dear, “and then we can get out of here.”

The man gives a sigh, which is much louder than necessary and says, “My name is Lucius Malfoy, which I’m sure that you are aware of. This,” he said gesturing toward the woman that was sitting next to him, “is my wife, Narcissa. And this,” he pointed on the other side of her, “is my son, Draco.”

Lucius stops at that and looks sullen. You take a closer look at that moment and think to yourself, “He also looks as though he could use a shave.”

You clear your throat and say, “Um, aren’t you going to introduce the others?”

Eyes narrowed so deeply that they were practically slits, Lucius said, “I introduced my family. Not those... people,” he says with a wave of his hand as the last word comes out with a bit of scorn and dislike.

“Ah, well, then,” you say, turning your face toward the man wearing glasses. “How about you? Would you like to introduce yourself?”

At least he seems a bit cheerier,  you think, watching his movements.

“My name is Harry Potter,” he says, “and this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can swear that the Lucius fellow is twirling his finger in an “whoop-de-do” manner, and muttering “Who cares?” However, you just shake your head, not believing that you are really hearing and seeing this. Maybe it was the enchiladas at lunch, you think, distractedly rubbing at your stomach, trying to ignore the distant rumble. Hopefully that will wait until you are finished, at least.

You take in a deep breath and and clap your hands together. “Alright. Now that we all know who we are, let’s get started.”

A silence fills the air as everyone begins to stare each other down.

A sudden thought dawns on you.

“By any chance - are you my new court ordered case?”

That gets everyone’s attention.  

“They said - “

“I was told - “

“But you see - “

Everyone begins talking at once.

The Tylenol is starting to sound very good to you right about now.

“Bad idea. Let me try this again,” you say, feeling as though you are talking to a group of small children.  “I’m going to assume that you were ordered by the court to be here.”

Different expressions were visible from everyone in the room, though some seemed to be a bit more pleasant than others.

Deciding that it is in everyone’s best interest that you try to get started without causing any more - distractions - you decide to try and begin yourself, in the only way that you know how.

“Since this seems to be difficult time for everyone,” you begin, “I will start, and then you can just jump in at anytime that you feel would be most beneficial.”

You hear sighs and groans from around the room, but decide that it is probably in your own best interest to ignore them and begin. You try to delicately glance at your watch to check the time, and realize that a mere ten minutes have passed since you walked into the room. And that your session is scheduled to last for an hour and a half.

You turn your attention to the younger woman in the room, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you can finally get somewhere with her.

“So Ms, Granger is it?” she nods and you continue, “can you help me to understand what brings the six of you here today?”

She turns to look at you, with what you are easily able to tell is a forced smile, but at least she is appearing to be somewhat civil, begins to speak.

“Harry, Mr Potter, here,” she begins, in a weirdly formal tone that confuses you, as you were under the impression that she and Harry were friends, at least, if nothing more, “and Draco, Mr Malfoy, that is, the younger one,” she says the last part, with a glare, and you can easily tell that there was something between those two, but what it is, you aren’t sure of just yet, but, as much as you are initially looking forward to this being over, are strangely interested in finding out what what is going to happen next, place your elbows on the desk and rest your chin on your palms, “have this stupid issue thing. And then Ron here, I mean, Mr Weasley,” she indicated the red-haired man sitting next to her with a look of, well, you decid that you didn’t even want to go there with that one, “decided that  he didn’t want to miss being part of the action.”

She stops, and you think that she is about to continue, but she crosses her arms and looks oddly like the younger Draco she was referring to.

You begin to regret thinking that your headache had left, because it suddenly seems to return.

You rustle through the papers that are in the folder on your desk and find the papers that had been sent in earlier that week.

You take another deep breath and start to read. “According to my notes, it appears that you, Mr Potter, as well as the younger Mr Malfoy are the main reasons that we are here?” You glance up slightly to see them both nod, even if it is a bit reluctantly.

You continue to read.

“And you, Mr Weasley,” you glance up once again and are met with a look of, you aren’t really sure how to describe the look and just keep reading. “You are here because...” you stop and read, and then re-read to yourself what it says on the paper because you are certain that there was no way that you could have possibly read it right the first time. Sure enough, however, no matter how many times you read it, the words stay the same on the paper.

“You are here because you were ‘aiding and abetting Mr Potter by...” and this time, you have to stop reading because it is taking everything that you possibly possess not to laugh.

Unfortunately, you seem to be the only one who thinks that it is funny and try to be as professional as possible. It isn’t an easy feat, however.

“By ‘performing a muto gendario hex on Mr Draco Malfoy.”

You glance up and see a hint of a snicker from the one who was called Weasley, and while you made yourself keep up a professional demeanor, this is the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, and hope there isn’t much more, as you don’t think you will be able to take it if there is.

You allow your gaze linger slightly, hoping for at least a slight bit of recognition of the charge that had been committed, and that you were now in charge of, rendering, for lack of a better word.

Ron, still fighting back a snicker, makes eye contact with you and nods slightly.

You then turn to look at Draco and continue speaking. “You, Mr Malfoy, then retaliated by performing the...” you struggle to read the words that were listed. “The muto piscis hex.”

You mentally shake your head. Muto gendario - changing someone’s gender at will - that is, YOUR will. Muto piscis - changing a person into a goldfish. Once again, you are reminded of dealing with five year old children. Though, you have to admit to yourself, you wouldn’t have minded actually seeing this happen. Then you immediately banish the thought. Be careful what you wish for, you tell yourself. Do you really want this to repeat itself in your office?

You then realize that you have reached the end of your notes.

With a sigh, you place the notes back on the desk and face the crowd once again.

“Now that we all know why we are here, is there anyone, anyone at all, in this room that would like to share their insight?”

You briefly wonder, if only for a moment, you would be able to pop a few Tylenol, or even something stronger at this point, without anyone noticing.

Ms Granger gives a deep sigh, rolls her eyes upward and says, “Since no one else seems to want to say anything, I’ll start.”

She is met by several dirty looks, but she brushes them off as though she is used to this by now.

“Just in case you aren’t aware, Harry and Draco here have never had the greatest relationship. They’ve had ups and downs throughout the years, and everyone just seemed to accept it for what it was. Then Ron here,” she tilts her head to indicate the one sitting next to her, so hard that you are afraid she is giving herself whiplash, “decides that they have had enough and that they need to, in their words ‘teach Malfoy a lesson’. So long story short, Draco over there makes a rude comment to Harry, who tries to give him a piece of his mind, and then Ron, as you said it states in the papers ‘aided and abetted Harry.’

She stops talking and sinks back into her chair.

Harry sits slightly straighter in his chair and starts to speak.

“Due to contrary disbelieve, it didn’t happen quite like that. I admit, Ron may have helped me... do a few things that maybe we shouldn’t have. But that still doesn't excuse the fact that...”

Ron interrupts him. “It’s all his fault anyway,” he says, pointing his finger at Draco. “He started the whole thing, just like he always does, and now we have to face punishment for it.”

“Now just you listen here you...” speaks up Lucius Malfoy. You have almost forgotten that he is still in the room. Unfortunately, it was turning out to be wishful thinking.

You hold up your hand for silence. This definitely wasn’t going the way that you were hoping that it would.

“Let me try something else,” you say, truly hoping to at least get to the bottom of the matter. After all, you haven’t even gotten to that yet, and the longer this takes, the longer you will have to keep this up. You shudder to yourself the thought that these... people... might even have to come back.

“You,” you point at Harry, “and you,” you point at Ron, “don’t get along with him,” you point at Draco. “So because of this, you,” you point once again to Ron, “end up placing a muto gendario hex on him,” once again, you point at Draco.

Finally, you get the reaction that you had been hoping for. All six heads nod at you.

“Great. Now that we have that taken care of, we can get started...” you say, but once again, things do not turn out quite like you expected.

There is an outburst suddenly from Draco. “This all started because he stole her from me!”

Suddenly, six pairs of eyes, including yours, turn to stare at him.

The room is eerily silent, but only for a moment.

“Who might you be talking about, Draco?” Lucius asks in his soft, cool tone, though it seems apparent that he already knows what the answer is.

Draco only continues to sulk and slides deeper into his chair.

You clear your throat. “Um, Draco? Would you mind elaborating on that? I think it’s something we’re all interested in hearing.”

He sits up slightly straighter and glares over at where Ron, Harry and Hermione are sitting.

“Him,” he says, jerking his thumb at Ron. “He stole her,” he points at Hermione, “from me.”

Ron jumps up from where he is sitting.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, Malfoy?”

Lucius arches an eyebrow, trying to hide how curious he is.

“I hate to have to agree with a Weasely, son, but please, do tell us what you’re talking about.”

You ease yourself back into your chair and get ready. This is definitely going to be interesting. You certainly didn’t see that one coming.

While he had been seated sulking in the chair, he had seemed quite small. However, as he begins to speak, he takes a deep breath and nearly fills himself double with air, and for a moment, you are afraid that he is going to explode.

A slight tinge of pink tints his cheek, so light you think you may be imagining it, but you force yourself to pay attention to what it is that he is saying.

“Like I said,” he says in a low voice with his eyes looking at the wall behind you, “she was supposed to be mine, until he took her from me.”

Your pen begins to slide from the desk and hits the floor and at that moment, you learn that the saying “It was so quiet you could hear a pen drop” is really true. You wiggle your shoe under the desk to retrieve it, while keeping your eyes on what is inevitably about to happen in the middle of the room.

“Sit down, Draco,” Lucius hisses. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I will NOT sit down. I have had quite enough. She’s mine...  has always supposed to be mine, and I won’t stand for this anymore. I want her back, Weasley.”

You sink your face into your hands. Will this day never end, you wonder?

Your question gets answered right then when Ron steps up to Draco and says, very simply, “Well, you can’t have her.”

“Oh yeah? Says who?”

Harry stands up at that moment. “Says me.”

This isn’t happening, you tell yourself. Any moment now, you are going to open your eyes, find yourself in your bed at home, and realize that this was a horrible dream.

You close your eyes, count to ten slowly and slowly open your left eye, and then your right one.

No such luck, you realize, as the scene hasn’t changed since you first closed them.

Hermione stands up at that moment and begins to put in her two cents.

“Malfoy? Just how hard did you hit your head? You must have fell and hit it pretty hard if you think that I was once yours.”

“Don’t deny it, Hermione, you know you love me.”

You start coughing at that moment, and realize that you aren’t the only one that is having that reaction. Harry almost falls out of his chair and Ron’s face turns red, and you can’t quite tell if it is because he can’t breath or because he is laughing too hard internally. You can’t concentrate on that for very long, due to the fact that it seems as if Lucius  is having a heart attack.

His face turns white and he reaches for his chest, and you a make a move as though you want to help him, but are stopped as you realize that he has reached for his wand, which he shoves in his son’s face.

“Don’t make me use this,” he hisses, and then shoves his long, blonde hair out of the way, as though he is taking part in a shampoo commercial, and sits back down.

You realize that your day has gone from bad to worse, though you didn’t realize that it could get any worse.

“Um, sir,” you say, using the term loosely, “would you mind putting that away, please?”

With a grunt and few words that you wouldn’t dare repeat, especially in mixed company, he sitss down.

You force a smile onto your face as you turn to Narcissa.

“Ma'am,” you say, “isn’t there anything that you would like to say?”

“At this moment, there is nothing I wish to say,” she says. “I’m here because I came to support my son. Although by now, I’m not sure that I want to claim him as my son.”

There is a sudden coughing fit that starts to come from the left side of the room and you don’t have to even turn your head to know that it is Ron doing it again.

So you decide to try one last time.

“Alright. Let me start again. Mr Malfoy, you claim that Mr Weasley stole Ms Granger from you. However, Mr Weasley and Ms Granger both claim that this isn’t the case. Meanwhile, hexes went around to from both parties, resulting in the fact that you have all landed here. So I guess the next point of business for us all to attend to is the fact that we need to get to the bottom of the matter and settle our differences.”

All six pairs of eyes turn to look at you as though you had just started to speak Parseltongue. Maybe you had. At this point, you realize that anything is possible.

“You can’t mean....” is the first response that you hear. Without even looking up from where you are, you merely nod, knowing that all that is going to be asked of you is whether or not you are serious.

“This is what is going to happen,” you say, continuing on without allowing anyone else to say anything because you are almost to a breaking point and know that if you give anyone any power anymore, that you are completely going to lose it. As it is, you know that you are needing a nice, stiff drink at the end of the day.

You sigh, and then continue. “You,” you say, pointing at Draco, “and you,” you point at Ron, “are going to pair up. “You,” you point at Lucius, “and you,” you point at Harry, “are going to pair up. That leave the two of you,” you point at Narcissa and Hermione, “to pair up.”

You realize that they must know you mean business, because for the first time, they don’t ask questions and grudgingly rearrange themselves so that they are sitting by who you assigned to who.

A few moments pass, and you realize that they are looking at you expectantly.

Oh yes, you remember, you are telling them what they need to be doing.

“Now that you have your “therapy” partner,” you notice how they all sneer as you say this, “we are going to learn how to take out aggression in a way where none of us get hurt.”

There are several eye rolls as you reach into the wardrobe behind your desk, and reappear to them with a smile upon your face.

Without a word, you hand a small foam bat to all six of them.

Each has slightly a different reaction, however it is all the same general idea.

Lucius wrinkles his nose, as though the bat might reach up and bite him.

“What is this... thing?” he asks slowly.

You smile, your first real smile of the day.

“It’s what you are all going to use in order to help solve your differences.”

They are still looking at you expectantly and you have to tell them step by step exactly what it is that they are going to do.

“The first thing that we are going to is role-play.”

While catching some of the smirks among the male members in the room, you clear your throat.

“Not that kind,” you say, before anyone can say a word.

“In a moment, I am going to give each of you a chance to come up to the center of the circle to give  your own interpretation of  your partner. You are going to act out your interpretation of their character.”

A few moments go by of complete silence, and then you breathe deeply again and get started.

“Hermione? You and Narcissa - may I call you Narcissa? - can go first.”

This is going to be good, you think, as you sit back and watch what is unfolding in front of you.

Narcissa is the first to stand up and then she does so quietly, and you are wondering what exactly it is that she is going for.

She lifts her head up quickly, and you realize that she has been shaking her hair out so that is an uncanny resemblance to how Hermione’s hair looks, you have to admit.

She takes a deep breath and begins.

“I am so just as good as you! No matter what you tell anyone, I will be as good as you. I’m probably better than you. So there,” she sticks out her tongue, for good measure. Then, without another word, she sits back down.

Alright then.

“Hermione? Would you like to...” you wave your hand around slightly.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes and then stands up.

Pointing her nose so high toward the celing that she looks like a bloodhound, she begins.

“I’m perfect. After all, why wouldn’t I be? I’m married to a death eater, I have one for a son, everyone loves me. What is there not to love?” She has been waltzing across the room, and upruptly stops, and then she also sits back down.

You rub the bridge of your nose. Two down, four to go.

“Harry? Lucius... would you like to go?”

They both stare each other down and they attempt to stand up at the same time, and then Harry steps back down.

Lucius steps to the center of the room. “Hello,” he says lowly, “my name is Harry Potter. I am perfect. EVeryone loves me. I’m the Chose One, the Boy Who Lived.”

You wave your hand at Harry, motioning for him to go.

He mockingly moves hair behind his shoulders. “The name is Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. I made a living for working for the Dark Lord. Except that my hair gets in the way, and he decided to get rid of me because he isn’t as beautiful, as sexy as I am.”

Four down, two to go.

“I’ll go next,” jumps up Ron. He runs to one end of the room, and then turns around. Somehow, he has slicked his hair backwards. “I’m a perfect pure-blood. I don’t like anyone who doesn’t think like me. That includes mudbloods and blood traitors. Then sometimes I go a little mental and do weird things.”

Not bad, you think, but it probably could have been a little bit better.

Now comes the times you were waiting for. Five down, one to go.

You are ready for him to start, and can’t quite figure out exactly what it is that he is doing.

He walks over to Hermione, and gently kneels down on the ground.

“Hermione, will you marry me?”

That sets of mass confusion throughout the room, as no one is sure whether or not he is role-playing, which you are pretty sure that he isn’t, or not.

Hermione smiles, and then, without further warning, grabs the foam bat that you had handed her earlier and whacks him across the head with it.

“There’s your answer, ferret-boy.”

“How dare you call my son ferret-boy, you, you...” screeches Narcissa, who whacks her own bat across Hermione’s face.

“That’s my girlfriend!” Ron shouts, jumping down from his chair and attacking Narcissa with his bat.

“Leave my wife alone, you muggle lover,” Lucius booms.

“Don’t you dare touch my friends!” shouts Harry, beating Lucius across the back.

You are completely bewildered as you watch the mass chaos that is unfolding in front of you.

There are six grown, you think that term loosely, people playing dog-pile on the ground. The only happy moment that you have at that moment is the fact that they haven’t pulled you in with them.

“And this is all your fault!” screams Draco suddenly, hitting you in the knees with his bat. “You made us do this.

Ouch. You had thought too soon.


Exactly Forty-Five Minutes Later

You glance up at the clock, and think a silent prayer when you realize that time is up. Finally.

“Alright, everyone,” you say, the happiest you have been all day, maybe even all year. “It seems that our session is over...”

You barely get the words out of your mouth before there is a mass commotion.

“We haven’t finished yet!” shouts Ron and Draco in unison.

“I promise, it will all work out,” you say, thinking that you will sign anything, do anything, so that hopefully they will not have to come back.

“No, you don’t understand,” Draco says. “I thought we were finally getting somewhere. Hermione... she was starting to see me as... a man. The one who is perfect for her. Ron and I... we could become friends. And Harry.... he and I need to be here.”

You raise your eyebrows.

Lucius stops your train of thought, however, as he slaps down his cane in front of you.

“Are you trying to deny us what is rightly ours?”

“What?” you say, completely bewildered. What is trying to get at?

“We were told to come to you until we solved our problems. This is only our first session. This was not discussed.”

You stifle a groan. It doesn't look like you are going to be able to get out of this as easily as you had originally thought.

“Alright,” you say finally. “How about the same time tomorrow? And then we can plan a more steady schedule?”

Everyone nods and makes their way to the door.

Once it seems they have all left, you breath a sigh of relief. Maybe some kind of national disaster will happen before they are set to return.

Ha, you think. Dudley Dursley, Family Therapist, my left foot, you think. You hate to admit it, but maybe Dad was right. Maybe you should have majored in business.

A/N: So there you have it. A comedy story written in second person. As for Dudley not “knowing” Harry? Well, it’s written that way because it has to be from a canon characters point of view, and it’s not that they don’t know each other, but after all, they wouldn’t really let on that they do. And that means any interaction that Ron may have had with them, that's out the window. After all, it’s supposed to be humorous, and that’s the twist, to find out who it really is at the end. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it.

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