A/N: It's been a whole year since I last updated these stories. Where has the time gone?!

Well, for what it's worth, it was not my intention to take such a lengthy hiatus. After nearly six months of no writing, I got a sudden burst of inspiration again at the end of 2015 and have been getting caught up in a whirlwind of other writing projects (some of which I'm still working on). However, I've been wanting to return to my UL world for quite some time and certainly haven't forgotten about them (or any of you!) in the interim that I've been away.

Even though its been a while, I hope some of you are still here(?) and still interested in these stories(?). I can't promise how quickly updates will resume, but I am back and I will keep fulfilling these prompts as time permits because...well, even if (I suspect) readers have moved on to other works, I still love writing my UL babies, so I'll be here playing with them, regardless. :)

If you, too, are still around, I welcome hearing from you (as always)! And I'm still accepting new prompts to "the list" (as always!).

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox and own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me.


Perceptive Problems

Hermione notices that Severus isn't reading like he used to. As it turns out, the solution she proposes has the potential to benefit more than just her husband...and his eyesight.

(Prompt from Becky Benson, whom I offer this to in loving tribute. I wish I could have fulfilled this one-shot for her before she passed away last year. Perhaps she can still read it in another realm...)


Hermione unconsciously removed the non-ink, heavily indented end to her feathered quill from between clenched teeth and scratched at an unrelenting itch on top of her head. She sighed as the tingling subsided and was about to commence biting the tail once more when she was momentarily distracted from her reading by a faint huff coming from directly across from her. She glanced up from the pile of work papers in her hands, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

That aggravated sound belonged to her otherwise silent, scowling husband, seated in the second of two sofa chairs positioned on opposite sides of their sitting room fireplace. Hermione was comfortably occupying the former. Severus continued to stare down the hefty reading material positioned between his grasping, bony fingers, his concentration fixed and unyielding. That visual was nothing out of the ordinary.

Hermione's initial assumption was that whatever Severus was in the midst of reading was agitating him (after all, she was well aware that he was no fan of the author of the contents), so she awaited the gnarly wizard's forthcoming complaints, however colourful they may be; but when no words were offered, she honed in on his face instead. His thin lips were muttering along to the words—another quirk of his that wasn't at all unusual—but there was something uncommon and peculiar also taking shape before her eyes: Severus was squinting, straining his beady eyes to read as she had never seen him do before.

How long has that been going on? she wondered curiously.

Severus huffed louder still, unaware of his wife's quiet study of his person on this rainy, late summer evening, and readjusted how close the book was to his narrowed eyes. He sneered in what Hermione surmised was growing frustration but tried to carry on reading, undisturbed.

Hermione decided against an intervention...for the moment. If he wished to stew in silence, he was free to do so. I need to finish up this caseload before midnight, she bemoaned internally as she chanced a glance at the clock on the nearby mantel; it was nearing eleven in the evening. Get a move on already.

Although tired, and finding it difficult to concentrate, Hermione forced her attention back to her workload when a third testy tiff from Severus had her tensing her shoulders in irritation. "All right, what's wrong?"

Severus casually peered up from the tome he was (annoyingly) immersed in, surveying Hermione as though she was hearing things all by her lonesome. "Hmm?" he questioned in return.

Hermione's eyes slid into slits. "You keep making that noise."

"What noise?"

"That noise! That grunt about something or other! What is it?"

Severus's befuddlement turned to wilful reservation when he answered a little too simply, "Nothing."

Hermione pursed her lips, unamused. "You know something? You were probably a less convincing spy than I've perceived all of these years."

Severus paused at that, shooting the witch a critical look over. "You're in a right foul mood tonight, aren't you?"

Hermione's cheeks coloured with guilt. "Sorry, love." She nodded to the plentiful stack of papers in her lap, which had barely lowered or lessened in the past several hours. "Work's doing my head in. I think I need a vacation."

"Well, perhaps it's time you considered that." Severus flipped to the next page in his book without severing eye contact. "Your sweet disposition this evening is enough to curdle milk."

Hermione's indignation reignited with the flurry of a heedful glare. "Thank you for your understanding. And since when has the option of a vacation ever been on the table for our family?"

A short lapse in conversation followed that stinging remark, until Severus replied, his voice considerably quieter than before, "There's no time like the present."

With a conceding sigh, Hermione placed her hands on top of her papers and measured Severus with a thoughtful stare. "All right, then. I'll take some time off if you will?"

Knowing Severus was incapable of meeting such a demand—or, at the very least, wouldn't be willing to consider taking a holiday any time soon (even in the absurd wake of being off from Hogwarts for the summer with only independent potion orders to keep him occupied)—Hermione watched as the deep-seated lines around her husband's mouth condensed. He kept his chin raised as he proclaimed, with boorish stubbornness, "This has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, don't think you can weasel your way out of this now, Mister! You provoked the idea, and why would I want to take a holiday if I don't get to enjoy my husband while I'm at it?" That, at last, broke some of the underlying tension. Hermione laughed light-heartedly and shook her head, whilst an understated smirk forced its way across one corner of Severus's mouth. Hermione swiftly chose to change topics. "By the way, how long have you had trouble reading?"

Severus blinked, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your eyes, love; you're squinting. Don't think I hadn't noticed. Has your vision gotten worse?"

"My vision's perfectly fine," he refuted rather defensively, which Hermione found not at all surprising. He made an awkward roll of his shoulders against the back of his chair and added, "It's the bloody premise of this book that's making me see nothing but red."

Hermione's regard softened. "That bad, eh?"

"Worse," Severus snorted. "Scrogg's a bleedin' twat. His new theory for replacing salamander's blood with mamba snake's blood for a stronger Strengthening Solution is preposterous on an epic scale—"

"I meant your vision, Severus."

The muscles surrounding the wizard's jaw visibly clamped. "I told you, Hermione: my vision's fine."

Unconvinced, but not wishing to instigate a full-blown row at such a late hour, Hermione shrugged and inked a line through a sentence on the latest page of her papers. "You should consider seeing a Healer about it, love. They can right your vision with all sorts of spells and quick remedies, you know; spell work that would only be temporary if you or I was to attempt anything on our own."

"I'll spare myself the trouble, thanks," Severus grumbled. His overtaxed eyes came to rest on the book in front of him again and his response was fainter when he spoke, "I waste enough precious time at that ruddy institution as it is. I'd like to make it through one season without a trip there, particularly one that's completely unnecessary."

Stricken by that point, Hermione caved her shoulders and inched forward in her chair. "Severus," she started to reply, but he shot her down, albeit softly and without malice.

"Never mind."

Severus resumed reading his unenlightening book, whilst Hermione remained thwarted and disheartened by the abrupt end to their discussion. She frowned and studied her husband at length. Then she proposed, somewhat delicately, "You could always settle for reading spectacles."

When Severus glanced over at his wife again, intending to dismiss her suggestion, he found her preoccupied with her workload once more and humming to herself under her breath. The suggestive, understated smile she wore as well was a touch too unsettling to him, but he allowed it to pass unmarked.


"Oh, for goodness' sake! Do lighten up, would you?"

"What? Watch it!" Severus challenged through a low snarl as Hermione unintentionally poked his face with yet another pair of reading spectacles; the offensive colour—maroon this time—prompted Severus to sneer with disapproval.

"If you'd quit backing away from me, I wouldn't poke you so much! And this isn't nearly as fun with you scowling like a gargoyle! You look like a sourpuss on the verge of having all his teeth yanked out!"

"It sure as hell feels like that at the moment," the wizard deadpanned back at her and crossed his wiry arms over his chest.

Irritated, Hermione quietly tapped her foot. "Oh, rubbish! I swear, it's impossible to take you anywhere sometimes, Severus! You're as bad as one of the children!"

"That's because, once more, you've dragged me somewhere against my will. I told you, Hermione: there's nothing wrong with my eyes! Leave it alone."

Undeterred but resigned to give up on the pair she had picked out, Hermione t'sked between her teeth and carefully placed the maroon spectacles back on a shelf. She scanned the rows upon rows of reading spectacles for another set, though, so far, she had yet to get her obstinate-prone husband to try on a single pair for more than a few meagre seconds. "You can be such a crab, you know that?" she muttered, more to herself than to him, as she grabbed another pair and inspected them.

Severus, on the other hand, inched away from the witch. "Remind me of that the next time I've made you snort with laughter."

Hermione whipped her head sideways to stare him down, gasping loudly, "I do not snort when I laugh! That's an infrequent occurrence!"

Severus smirked and rolled his eyes, catching some curious Muggle passers-by who had started peering in the argumentative couple's direction. "Whatever you say, my dear."

"As if you don't have a number of embarrassing quirks of your own, Severus Snape! Don't forget: I know them all. Now, enough dodging me. Try these on."

Severus begrudgingly took the spectacles Hermione had handed to him. The frames were thinly shaped, square, and a rich, chocolate brown, though Severus wasn't sure if they were brown or, in fact, black.

Realising that his sight might be worse than he initially thought, he smartly kept his mouth shut as he placed them on the bridge of his nose with a burdensome sigh. He glared down his hooked nose at his observing wife, taken aback by the reaction the spectacles garnered from her moments later.

Hermione's expression went from peevish to surprise and even enchantment in a matter of a few heartbeats. "Oh!" she started, breathless. "My, Severus...! Those look smashing on you!"

Severus's scowl lengthened, incredulous to her compliment. "Bollocks." He awkwardly stepped farther back, his cheeks breaking out in a slight blush; but Hermione seized his arm before he was out of reach.

"No, really, love, you look positively debonair in those!" She eagerly pointed to a mirror on the wall next to the rows of spectacles they—she, rather—had been scrounging through and yanked Severus towards his reflection. "Look, look! Wow... How did I not know how dashing my husband could look in spectacles before? I should've suggested you start wearing these years ago!"

Utterly bewildered, and not at all following Hermione's bizarre train of reasoning, Severus studied himself for a short time in the glaring mirror. Perhaps his wife really was bonkers (well, more so than he had long surmised her to be). What was so bloody marvellous about him with four eyes rather than two? Granted, the angular pair Hermione had chosen this time seemed to conform well to the sharp shape of his face, but, to him, spectacles only added to his discomfort and insecurities about his overall image. He kept frowning and eventually glanced back at Hermione, troubled. "I look a ruddy fool, Hermione."

"Nonsense, Severus! You look handsome." Easily reading the scathing thoughts that were entering the man's mind, she extended a hand to affectionately stroke his face and tacked on, "Not that you aren't handsome to begin with but—"

"All right, all right." He hastened to remove the spectacles, fumbling with them in his hands; but Hermione quietly guided them back on, much to his chagrin.

"But listen to me, prattling on about how they look!" she carried on once they were in place. "Can you read better with them, love?"

Before Severus was aware of Hermione conspicuously extracting a book from inside her beaded bag, one was suddenly thrust against his chest. Befuddled, Severus accepted the offering and curled his upper lip once his eyes browsed the title. Of course Hermione would bring that barmy book by his cocked-up Potions colleague!

"I figured we can toss it on the way home," she suggested playfully, catching him by surprise and thereby thawing some of his frustrations. "Perhaps throw it in the Thames? Might make this outing much more fun for you, at least! Anyway, have a look."

"Cheeky minx," Severus mused, catching the flash of pride and mischievousness that fluttered across Hermione's pretty brown eyes, before he yielded to yet another one of her demands. Taking a moment to skim the first few lines, Severus soon settled for a frown, slammed the book shut, and nimbly removed the offending lenses from his face. "No," he concluded matter-of-factly.

This time, Hermione's expression didn't falter; or break out in angry lines. "Liar," she detected, to him, far too easily.

Severus put the spectacles aside, coiled a hand around Hermione's arm, and led them out the door and onto the bustling London streets. "Let's go."


Hermione was easily placated as her head hit the soft, plush pillow beneath her, cradling her upper body like the warm, 'welcome home' invite she so desperately needed. Today had been an exhaustive whirlwind workwise, so she was most grateful to finally be at home (with no ruddy work to occupy her tired mind over the course of the approaching weekend) and in the divine comforts of her own bed.

She smiled, contented, and lazily turned over to admire her husband, who was still sitting upright beside her, with pillows propped behind his head and back as he read in silence by candlelight. Hermione had snuffed out the remaining candles and lamps throughout their bedroom seconds ago, intending to go asleep, but her sights were instantly reawakened by the strange, dark configuration she spotted hovering on the tip of her husband's long, pointed nose: spectacles. They were the same pair she had picked out for him the weekend prior, and which he had so hurriedly discarded before they could be purchased. Hermione had thought that that was the end to that heated debate—for now, anyway—when, once again, her wizard managed to surprise her.

Hermione stirred beneath the covers and, with little effort, drew closer to further appreciate what she saw, unaware of the enlivened flush that was stretching across her face in response to the sensual visual before her now. "What are you reading?" she inquired, projecting the biggest smile as she proceeded to nuzzle Severus's side.

Severus nonchalantly turned his head, and Hermione caught the flicker of the title to what appeared to be an article about hot vacation destinations. "What would you say to Ibiza, perhaps at the end of August before I have to return to Hogwarts?"

Much to Severus's satisfaction, Hermione's eyes lit up with immediate excitement. "A vacation?" she exclaimed and threw an arm around his neck, reclining into him fully. "Really?"

"Well, that was my hope—"

Severus never got to complete that thought, for Hermione abruptly smacked her lips to his, smoothly shutting the wizard up. Once their feverish lips parted, Severus found Hermione still beaming at him. "Just us?" she asked.

"Just us," he concurred.

Hermione hungrily kissed him again. "No kids?" she practically squealed against his mouth.

"No. Bloody. Kids."

After pecking him a third time, Hermione's eager lips proceeded to rove across every inch of Severus's face, marking their appreciation and arousal. Amused, Severus chuckled softly and made to grasp the arm that was now roped tighter than ever around his neck. "You're right," he teased in a low purr as Hermione continued her overzealous perusal, "I should have invested in these wretched spectacles a long time ago. If I'd known how frisky you'd get—"

Again, Severus wasn't able to finish his sentence. Issuing an evocative hiss against his mouth, Hermione descended on her husband with fervour, throwing herself over top of him and straddling him into submission. Severus's face—and his reading spectacles—quickly disappeared behind all of Hermione's maddening curls and would wind up lopsided and fogged up once their bodies had been properly assuaged between the sheets.


A/N: I know it's on the shorter side, but the Muse wants what it wants.

Thanks in advance to those who review!