Enforced Therapy
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
6,972
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
6,972
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter (wish I did). I make no money from this (I'm still broke).
Fred
Thank you for all the reviews! I love them!! And as usual, please read & review!!
***
Fred
They made Feorge sit on the opposite side of the room from me. Bastards. They tried to make Hermione and Snape sit away from each other as well, but the moment Snape stood up and told them in no uncertain terms that if he ever wished to procreate that they would be leaving he and his witch alone. Having been at the end of that glare of death on more than one occasion, I didn’t blame that Piss Boy (Lovely choice of name. G) for urinating in his robes.
Mr. Malfoy sat there looking at his nails in a bored fashion even as he referred him to his solicitor sitting next to him. The twitchy little man stood up and said to them that he (the therapist) would have refer to him (the solicitor) from that moment on, as Mr. Malfoy was far too important a man to be dealing with the likes of him. He finished this by looking down at the piss stained robes with an air of distaste. Point made.
They tried to make Sirius and Remus sit away from each other as well. Sirius looked at the man flatly and said to him that he spent twelve years in Azkaban and that he knew how to magically turn him inside out without leaving a magical signature. A foul odor hit the air in that moment and we all knew without a doubt the man had shit himself.
It would seem I named him far too soon. (Apparently so. G)
George joined me again and when it looked like he was going to make my brother move again it was then that Hermione spoke up. She told him that he had better not mess with us. If they don’t get you, their mother will. Her exact words! Wow, I wonder if we could use that as a marketing gimmick? (Hmm, don’t know. G)
It was then that Hermione told them that we owned a premiere joke shop and tended to test new product on the unsuspecting around them, which is more than likely the reason they were there in the first place. When it looked like the man was still going to make my twin move, that’s when Hermione pulled out a picture of the last therapist she had taken without us knowing (sneaky minx! G) and handed it to him. He walked away without another word to either of us. Remind me that we are never going to test another thing on Hermione again (We are never going to test another thing on Hermione again. G)!
Neville wasn’t here again (talk about a missed opportunity. G). Though why they didn’t tell us. We looked to the therapist expectantly and kept waiting as he did a cleaning spell on himself (though the smell lives on. G).
“Okay,” the man said. “I’ll have to inform the Wizmogot of your unwillingness to cooperate…”
“No, you can’t,” Malfoy’s solicitor told him. “This may very well be a court ordered therapy, but as a mediwitch it’s considered unethical for you to tell them anything that has transpired in these meets, including and not unlimited to, any and all cooperation or noncooperation, therein.”
When the man blinked at the solicitor owlishly, Severus added, “That means you cannot say a word without our say so. And I don’t say so.”
“We don’t say so too!” both me and my less than handsome brother replied. (whom are you calling less than handsome? Wanker. G)
Hermione laughed. “Those idiots. I told you that this would come into play. They make people go into this farce with the idea of emulating muggle psychiatry and they can’t even be bothered to do it correctly.” She then added, “I don’t give my permission either.”
“You don’t have my permission,” Harry said to him. “And if you try to sell any of this to the press, I’ll hire Mr. Malfoy’s attorney.”
“Get your own solicitor, Mr. Potter,” Malfoy hissed at him. “This one’s mine. Bought and paid for.”
And don’t you know just as we expected Ron to say something, we looked over to see him sound asleep (We should have brought those muggle plastic spiders we bought just for a moment like that. Next time. G). Which didn’t last long as Harry woke him up by jolting his chair and told him to say that he didn’t give his permission.
“I don’t give my permission!” he yelped. But stopped to think it over and asked, “For what?”
“For them to use what we say against us.”
He snorted. “If only life were that simple. I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”
“Then I think its best that I seek new employment,” the man whispered, looking ready to jump a cliff at this point. “This is over.”
NOTE TO THERAPIST—I CAN’T WORK LIKE THIS. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE. RICHARD TOLD ME THAT THEY WERE BAD. BUT I DIDN’T THINK THAT THEY WOULD BE AS BAD AS THEY WERE! I QUIT. I’M GOING TO WORK FOR MY FATHER. PLUMBERS DEAL WITH BETTER SHIT THAN THIS. GOOD DAY.
***
Fred
They made Feorge sit on the opposite side of the room from me. Bastards. They tried to make Hermione and Snape sit away from each other as well, but the moment Snape stood up and told them in no uncertain terms that if he ever wished to procreate that they would be leaving he and his witch alone. Having been at the end of that glare of death on more than one occasion, I didn’t blame that Piss Boy (Lovely choice of name. G) for urinating in his robes.
Mr. Malfoy sat there looking at his nails in a bored fashion even as he referred him to his solicitor sitting next to him. The twitchy little man stood up and said to them that he (the therapist) would have refer to him (the solicitor) from that moment on, as Mr. Malfoy was far too important a man to be dealing with the likes of him. He finished this by looking down at the piss stained robes with an air of distaste. Point made.
They tried to make Sirius and Remus sit away from each other as well. Sirius looked at the man flatly and said to him that he spent twelve years in Azkaban and that he knew how to magically turn him inside out without leaving a magical signature. A foul odor hit the air in that moment and we all knew without a doubt the man had shit himself.
It would seem I named him far too soon. (Apparently so. G)
George joined me again and when it looked like he was going to make my brother move again it was then that Hermione spoke up. She told him that he had better not mess with us. If they don’t get you, their mother will. Her exact words! Wow, I wonder if we could use that as a marketing gimmick? (Hmm, don’t know. G)
It was then that Hermione told them that we owned a premiere joke shop and tended to test new product on the unsuspecting around them, which is more than likely the reason they were there in the first place. When it looked like the man was still going to make my twin move, that’s when Hermione pulled out a picture of the last therapist she had taken without us knowing (sneaky minx! G) and handed it to him. He walked away without another word to either of us. Remind me that we are never going to test another thing on Hermione again (We are never going to test another thing on Hermione again. G)!
Neville wasn’t here again (talk about a missed opportunity. G). Though why they didn’t tell us. We looked to the therapist expectantly and kept waiting as he did a cleaning spell on himself (though the smell lives on. G).
“Okay,” the man said. “I’ll have to inform the Wizmogot of your unwillingness to cooperate…”
“No, you can’t,” Malfoy’s solicitor told him. “This may very well be a court ordered therapy, but as a mediwitch it’s considered unethical for you to tell them anything that has transpired in these meets, including and not unlimited to, any and all cooperation or noncooperation, therein.”
When the man blinked at the solicitor owlishly, Severus added, “That means you cannot say a word without our say so. And I don’t say so.”
“We don’t say so too!” both me and my less than handsome brother replied. (whom are you calling less than handsome? Wanker. G)
Hermione laughed. “Those idiots. I told you that this would come into play. They make people go into this farce with the idea of emulating muggle psychiatry and they can’t even be bothered to do it correctly.” She then added, “I don’t give my permission either.”
“You don’t have my permission,” Harry said to him. “And if you try to sell any of this to the press, I’ll hire Mr. Malfoy’s attorney.”
“Get your own solicitor, Mr. Potter,” Malfoy hissed at him. “This one’s mine. Bought and paid for.”
And don’t you know just as we expected Ron to say something, we looked over to see him sound asleep (We should have brought those muggle plastic spiders we bought just for a moment like that. Next time. G). Which didn’t last long as Harry woke him up by jolting his chair and told him to say that he didn’t give his permission.
“I don’t give my permission!” he yelped. But stopped to think it over and asked, “For what?”
“For them to use what we say against us.”
He snorted. “If only life were that simple. I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”
“Then I think its best that I seek new employment,” the man whispered, looking ready to jump a cliff at this point. “This is over.”
NOTE TO THERAPIST—I CAN’T WORK LIKE THIS. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE. RICHARD TOLD ME THAT THEY WERE BAD. BUT I DIDN’T THINK THAT THEY WOULD BE AS BAD AS THEY WERE! I QUIT. I’M GOING TO WORK FOR MY FATHER. PLUMBERS DEAL WITH BETTER SHIT THAN THIS. GOOD DAY.