Author's Note:
The Professor: Hello, and welcome to the second chapter of our story, "Couple's Therapy: Case One". So! Review Answers, eh? Quite a few to answer this time around - keep it up guys! OK, to honey-senpai - well, you're about to find out, aren't you? After a quite a while - which we are sorry for, by the way - update!
Ambrose: Now to Indiehippie - who I seem to remember reviewing another of our stories - or alerting? Hooked, you say? Very encouraging. To Pur Die - we hope the way the story goes will be to your liking. If it isn't, just review and say so. To natalie668, sorry for the update time - we got Fallout 3 not so long ago, and we've been consumed. CONSUMED! And to Isabelle Eir - we did try to make that summary as imaginative and as funny as we could, so we're glad it worked.
The Professor: To Empathetic Dreamer - we love Harry/Fenrir too, and we thought we'd give it a crack. Glad to know you like it. And finally, to lil joker - they do indeed, but you will see it's mostly an excuse for us to laugh at how they got together, how they do things, etc. The problem itself is very easy to sort out. Now, so we need not be reported for not doing a disclaimer - Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too . . . Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. There we are. Oh, but we do own Jeremy and Pat - so hands off, unless you ask first.
Ambrose: Enjoy the story, people! And make sure you read and review, guys - please?
(Chapter 2 - Start)
The hair twitched, Jeremy was sure of it. He smoothed it down for what seemed like the seventeenth time in two minutes, and glared at it, daring it to spring up again. It did, and he gave an irritated growl - it didn't matter, it didn't matter . . .
"How are we doing for time, Pat?" asked Jeremy, turning to face the door and his secretary, who was smiling indulgently at him. He couldn't help but smile back, slightly sheepishly as she said, "About three minutes less. And you really needn't worry. It's not as if they're going to get you shipped off to Azkaban if you make a comment."
Jeremy was sure he could contend that point, but he was cut off by the rapping that cut through the expectant atmosphere. He gulped, sure the two men behind that door could hear it, and sat down as if he had been attached to a wrecking ball - here goes, he thought.
Pat opened the door as soon as he had, and even Jeremy, sitting down as he was, could see the head of the man who loomed in the doorway over hers. He pulled at his collar nervously, and could only focus on the beating of his heart as his faithful secretary demurely said, "Mr and Mr Greyback-Potter? We've been expecting you."
The looming head seemed to grin, and was poised to say something before it was interrupted by a smooth baritone voice replying. "We prefer Potter-Greyback, and I should hope we haven't been keeping you in suspense?" There was a short tap of shoes on the tile floor, and another man, barely taller than Pat, entered the reception area. Jeremy stopped considering how to toe the line, and began to evaluate the man.
Rather weather-beaten, it would seem, and he would be - you didn't get through a war without any kind of scar, and Mr Potter (Greyback? The papers hadn't mentioned Potter had taken Greyback's name) seemed to be living proof of it - who could miss the infamous scar, after all? He was a rather attractive man, and Jeremy could certainly see why the public had been surprised that Potter had chosen Greyback as a suitor. He had porcelain white skin, inky black hair that seemed untamable and striking green eyes which shone out like emeralds. He was dressed rather conservatively, and seemed well at ease, smiling at Pat beguilingly - a complete contrast to the man who followed him through the door.
If Potter had been weather-beaten, then Greyback was weather-obliterated. He had a great many scars, even on his face and neck, which strangely didn't seem to conflict with the craggily handsome features upon which they lay. He was an astoundingly tall, well over six foot (Jeremy was reminded of Jaws) and had hard, glinting golden eyes, which were partly obscured by silver strands of hair - thick and flowing - as well as skin the color of matured wood and cream. He was dressed very spartanly - a simple shirt and trousers, neither of which seemed to fit him properly, and seemed determined to make the worst of his situation - he was glaring at Potter reproachfully, and had the air of a suffering husband brought to his wife's dinner party.
Pat smiled at Potter and Greyback, ignoring the fact that Greyback was - ahem - rearranging himself, and said, "Professor Clarke will see you now." She tilted her head at the door into Jeremy's office, and then sat herself back in her seat, watching peacefully as they trudged into the office - they were Jeremy's problem now, she thought wryly, and went back to reading her Calvin and Hobbes collection.
"Professor Clarke, I assume?" said Potter as he stood in front of Jeremy's desk, projecting an air of peace and relief (which irritated Jeremy - he hated it when people were so peaceful they just had to give some of it to other people) and holding his hand out. Jeremy nodded, and stood, taking the hand within his own (knowing that Potter could feel his hand shaking) and pointedly ignoring the scar upon Potter's forehead.
Jeremy couldn't tell from his side, but he swore he saw Potter nudge Greyback in the side - and it would fit, as Greyback only then extended his hand, still staring apathetically around him. Jeremy shook his hand for as short a time he thought he could without offending Greyback, and then released him. He invited the two to take the seats in front of Jeremy's desk, and made a point of sitting down only after they had.
Getting out a piece of paper and a pen, Jeremy placed the paper in front of him and clicked the pen, putting it's point to paper in anticipation. He cleared his throat and began. "Right, now before we start I'll need to take down some basic details - nothing I presume would be beyond the social sphere - such as age, existing family and basic relationship details. We'll need the heavier stuff later, but this is preliminary, so - " "And how do we know you won't go blabbing to the press about this little pow-wow?" Greyback spoke for the first time, and his voice certainly fit with that of a werewolf - rough and tumble and cut glass, Jeremy thought in a flash of oddness - with a tinge of anger.
He addressed his question to Jeremy, but was looking at Potter whilst he said it - who was sharing an annoyed glance with him - so Jeremy knew he had a moment to recollect himself (he'd felt his heart skip a beat when Greyback started talking) and come up with an answer. Then, he remembered, and felt a tinge of red creep up his neck - what kind of doctor was he, eh?
"If I 'blab', as you so eloquently put it, then you'd be obliged to report me. If I break doctor-patient confidentiality, I lose my job and license to practice therapy. It's within my best interests not to blab." Jeremy seemed to say all of this in one breath, and felt his thoughts whirling and whirling as what he said finally found it's way into his mind. Eloquent? Way to cheek the wrong guy!
Greyback looked at Jeremy speculatively for a second, and Jeremy bravely held his ground (drawing on memories of his brother burying him in a sandpit when he was younger for strength) which seemed to be enough - Greyback huffed slightly, and Potter shared a conspiring smile with Jeremy, who returned it weakly.
"So - uhm, details?" Jeremy continued weakly, and Potter replied. "Age, twenty two, born thirty first of July 1980. Existing family - well, I have a maternal aunt and cousin - my uncle died not so long ago - and an adopted godparent . . . Fen and I have been together for - " " - five years, and we've been married for two." Greyback cut in, and Jeremy began scribbling hurriedly as he began to list his own details. "Age, fifty six - " (he grimaced here - at the reminder of his age, seemingly) - " born twenty second of April 1946. Existing family - one brother, who lives in America."
Jeremy got all of this down, and near flung the pen down when he had. He linked his hands together in an attempt to stop them shaking, and said "Right - well, that, uh, seems to be all in order." He quickly noted down that the age difference was that of thirty four years, which may become important later on, and continued on.
"So, now I'll need a complete history of previous relationships and/or sexual liaisons."
(Maybe he should just start digging his grave now . . .)
(Chapter 2 - End)
Ambrose: Sorry for cutting it off there, but I don't think we're quite up to listing fifty six years worth of relationships and sexual mishaps. Next time, though - watch out. Now, make sure you read and review - we do need your feedback urgently.
The Professor: Also, check out our Livejournal - we'll be setting up a poll to see whether of not you want a little sex scene at the end of each story. Of course, it won't be on , but it will be on the journal. It's under our home-page, so look us up.
Ambrose: OK, that's all for this update - see ya next time, people! Read and review!