Disclaimer: Me, own Harry Potter? Psh! If I did I wouldn't be sitting here writing entertainment for you, now would I?

The first two chapters to this story are identical to the third and fourth of Very Crazy Things. This is because I thought it would be fun and twisted to make a whole thing based on Oliver and his insanity. Enjoy!

The Oliver Series, Part II

As was explained in the previous chapter (which if you haven't read it I highly suggest you do. But then again, why would someone start reading on the fourth chapter of a fic without first reading the other three chapters? That's just not logical.) Oliver has been having a bit of trouble with his profession. The poor guy is a failure at being an elementary school teacher, and his shrink (me) is getting paid not nearly enough. And thus we embark on the next segment of our wonderfully twisted tale. Read on, if you dare...

Oliver strolled down the hallway of his new school. Here, he wasn't going to be a teacher (thank God), but instead a guidance counselor. Instead of enriching young minds with pointless drivel, he would be helping the youth of our generation to figure out what they would like to do with the rest of their lives. Well, that is, if he could remain semi-sane long enough to collect a couple of paychecks.

He waltzed into his cushy office, where the first victim of the day was already waiting. Oliver had never seen her before, which was probably just as well. None of the kids he helped ever had to come back. Why this was is a bit unclear, but there was no point in dwelling in the past when there was the future to aid.

Oliver sat down in his black spinny chair at his desk and smiled warmly at the student.

"So," He said. "What can I do for you this fine day?" The girl sniffled, a lone tear running down her cheek. Oliver ignored this, as his previous experiences with crying told him it was best to just wait it out. "Well?"

"My name," Sniffed the girl, on the verge of a breakdown. "Is-is-is..." Oliver waited expectantly, as his therapist taught him to, not pushing the girl into responding before she was ready.

"Yes?"

"Sandy McFarland."

"Well, Sandy, what seems to be the problem today?" The girl named Sandy sniffled again.

"Well, ya see, the thing is..." Her voice trailed off, leaving Oliver to either suffer from a terrible head trauma that would make him become psychic in the next few seconds or wait until she finished. He wisely chose the latter. Of course, this meant he was forced to sit around, twiddling his thumbs impatiently as he waited for the next words to exit Sandy's mouth. "I-I-Oh, it's just too terrible to say!" Tears began streaming down her face, which Oliver again ignored.

"Well, I'm sure it's not. I mean, look at me - I used to be a famous Quidditch player, best in the league, then I got whacked in the head by a Bludger and couldn't remember anything about what my life used to be like, then decided to become and elementary school teacher, which I sucked at, I'm underpaying my wonderful therapist who I think I might be sleeping with against my knowledge, and now I'm here, as a high school guidance counselor. I seriously doubt your life could be much worse than mine."

"Oh, but it is!" Sandy sobbed, blowing her nose into a tissue from Oliver's desk.

"Then why don't you tell me what the problem is and we can fix it together?" Oliver suggested, eager to finish the session so he could go get some breakfast from the school cafeteria. Sandy shook her head. Oliver's eye twitched. "Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. What do I have to do to get you to tell me what the problem is?"

"I don't sob knooooooooooooooow!" Oliver continued to ignore the weeping as he thought long and hard about what he could possibly do to remedy this situation. After a few incredibly long moments of thinking, he came to a solution.

"I got it! If you don't tell me what the problem is right this instant I'm going to put on your permanent record that you are a compulsive liar who comes to guidance to waste the time of perfectly sane people just so you can cut class!" The tears stopped immediately, as Sandy pondered what he had just said. When it hit her that he was willing to lie to get her out of his office as soon as possible, her eyes widened.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would. Just try me." Sandy, having no desire whatsoever to do anything of the sort, determined that it would be in her best interests to simply tell the nice psychotic man what the problem was and scurry along back to class.

"Well, ya see, Mr. Wood, sir, the thing is..." Oliver leaned forward, one hand reaching for the key to the filing cabinet filled with student transcripts.

"Yes?"

"I-I... I got an A- on a project that I worked ever so hard on and it's the lowest grade I've ever gotten on anything!" Oliver started at her in shock.

"I'm sorry, I think I may have heard you incorrectly. Did you say the reason you're so upset is because you got an A- on a project?" Sandy nodded, tears building up again. Oliver closed his eyes, trying to find his happy place as his wonderful therapist had told him to when he felt the desire to rip someone's head into shreds. A moment later, he came back to reality. "Is that all you needed?" Sandy nodded tearfully. "OK then. Time to head back to class."

"OK. Thank you Mr. Wood." Oliver smiled in what he hoped was a friendly manner, which actually resembled a shark smiling at a human bleeding profusely from the arm when there was no one around to save them. Sandy scampered out of the office just as fast as she could, a terrified look on her face. Oliver sighed and leaned back in his chair. What was this world coming to? He would have to go visit his wonderful therapist again for this one.

For more psychoness, check out my other fic Very Crazy Things!