Herimone tapped the soft end of her feather quill against her right temple as she looked down at the parchment in front of her, and sighed loudly. She was working on an original story and trying to come up with names for her characters.
Seated in front of the fireplace, supremely uninterested in his wife's latest endeavor, sat Severus Snape, trying to enjoy the evening newspaper over Hermione's continual sighs. He turned a page as Hermione put down her quill in exasperation, half turned in her chair and looked at him.
"Severus, I need help coming up with a name for a character. He's in his late seventies, is a professor at a well-respected institution and infatuated with one of his younger students," she said to him.
Snape's brow furrowed as he shook out his paper in irritation.
"Severus! I'm talking to you. I need help. You're good at coming up with names. Please," she implored.
Snape sighed and put the paper down in his lap and looked over at Hermione. If he helped her now, she'd be bothering him for assistance for the duration of the story, which was already showing the potential to be one he'd never consider reading. He certainly didn't want his name showing up in the acknowledgements. But if he didn't make an attempt, she'd make his life quite nookieless.
"All right. You describe him as a man approaching his eighties in love with a student. How old is she? It is a she, isn't it?" he asked her in his silkiest voice.
"Yes, she's a she and she's in her late 20's but very mature for her age," Hermione replied.
Snape stifled his eye rolling reflex. He'd heard this story before, only the professor was in his forties and the student in her early twenties. Adding additional years didn't hide the fact that Hermione was fictionalizing their own romance. As much as he loved Hermione, Snape didn't want their personal story spread all over the wizarding world. Others would immediately recognize it. There was just one thing to do . . .
"Hm. Considering the backstory, how about 'Willie B. Hardigan?'"
The suggestion was followed by a long silence, then Hermione said quietly, "I see you're not going to be any help with this story, are you?"
"What do you mean? That's a perfectly fine name," Snape retorted, his eyebrows raised high with perplexity.
Hermione turned back around in the chair with another huff of exasperation, picked up her quill and tried to focus again, pointedly ignoring her husband. He'd be no help.
Snape smirked and shook out his paper appreciatively. With name suggestions like that he was definitely off the hook. It was almost a pity she wouldn't ask him again, because he had a wonderful name for the female lead just begging to be shared . . .
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A/N: Just a little drabble I came up with. I like wordplay obviously, especially naughty wordplay. Thanks for reading!