Part 2

CHAPTER FOUR

...

On the good side, he wasn't bothered by leather-crushed testicles anymore. On the bad side of things...he was never, ever going to get the image of Minerva McGonagall in tartan plaid bermuda shorts out of his brain. Ever. Nor her exclamation of, "Hot damn!" when she read the contents of the envelope he handed to her, nor the way she kicked up her heels before grabbing the Portkey, and most definitely it was going to take his strongest Memory Scrubbing Potion to cleanse his poor, abused brain of her final shout before vanishing to sunny Mexico, "Just don't touch my stash of toys, young man--or if you do, clean them thoroughly, both before and after!!"

She was referring, of course, to her collection of sexual toys.

Which were prominently displayed on a set of knickknack shelves over the fireplace mantel.

Severus had never known a grown man's penis could shrink to the size of an infant's, as he stood there in the living-room and just...cringed.

Finally, unable to bear the view, he whipped his wand at a doily on the back of the loveseat, Transfiguring it into a large sheet that sailed up and draped itself over the displays. That was slightly better. Nervous, he mounted the steps of the A-frame house to the bedroom loft. The walls echoed with his groan as he confronted the heart-shaped, revolving bed.

"One thousand points from Ravenclaw, Miss Lovegood," he snarled under his breath, "for subjecting me to this...this travesty of--of--God, I'm expected to seduce her in this cathouse?"

Her. Miss Granger. Hermione. Zapping the bed into a plain, non-revolving four-poster with a white down comforter, not its former plaid-velvet travesty, Severus sank onto the edge of the mattress, remembering.

He had snarled and sneered at her offer to hire him as a research assistant, initially. After being refused for so many positions, he'd managed to set up a small potions supplying career under an assumed name...but someone figured out it was Snape the Bastard Traitor a few days later. His suspicious mind had instantly wondered if she had leaked his identity...but he knew she hadn't known he had a job. She'd approached him because she thought he was completely adrift, unable even to be rehired at the school. Remus Lupin was held in higher esteem as a war-hero than Severus, and the damned werewolf was still blackballed from most forms of employment!

So, when she had asked him again to come work with her, he had reluctantly given in and joined her at the old Black residence. Granger had the most pull of anyone who had survived the war, really. She was the Best Friend Who Survived, after all. One of the few who had survived, period, of that final battle. She had even testified at his hearing, several months into his incarceration, adding her celebrity-status weight to Albus' beyond-the-grave testimony.

Her influence had diminished somewhat, given she preferred to do research in private over attending Ministry parties in public, and it had diminished further once word got out that she'd employed him to work with her...but she was one of those rare souls who honestly didn't care much for appearances. Some--they didn't even sleep on the same floor at the former Headquarters of the Order--but she didn't flinch at seeing his face at the breakfast table every single day. She had, in fact, accepted his presence quite readily.

He had missed knowing his colleagues at Hogwarts would murmur him a polite greeting, no matter how surly he was before his first mug of coffee. And though he never responded politely before breakfast, he had given them polite nods and murmurs on his way out of the Great Hall. Hermione had done much the same, that first morning together. Just handed him a cup of coffee, wait until it had been drained and refilled, then outlined what she thought the two of them could do for the day.

There had been a bit of power-jockeying between the two of them, but Severus had quickly found it more stimulating than annoying to argue with her. Arguments had become bantering, and bantering had morphed into wide-ranging discussions as each sought to test the other's breadth and depth of knowledge. It had been very stimulating. Intellectual intercourse, he acknowledged, sagging onto his back. He flung an arm over his face, smelling the scent of the leather jacket with that twist of realism Miss Lovegood had infused into this story. Conversational foreplay. Mental sex...god, that first week was hell; I kept running into this nubile young witch with a brain even bigger than her breasts, and I kept having to snarl at her and sneak Freezing Charms into the fly of my pants, until I finally got over the urge to shag her senseless.

But I didn't get over it, did I?

He had thought it was merely the curse of being male: encounter anyone attractive, interact with them for any length of time, and the brain below the belt would attempt to steal away the reins of control from the brain above the belt. Severus had used chilling charms and masturbation to handle his problem. He'd even considered visiting Knockturn Alley to relieve his needs, as he had done during the war. But for one, there were plenty of unsavoury characters who would love to get their hands on him in that particular lane's shadowed twists and turns, and for another...he just hadn't made the time. Their research was too fascinating, and her presence too subtly intoxicating, for him to think it was worth his effort to leave and seek out company elsewhere.

What he wanted to do was protest that he wasn't in love with her. And maybe he wasn't. But if there was one thing Severus Josaiah Snape knew, it was that this book experience was going to change everything between the two of them. In fact, it already had. He could still taste her on his tongue, smell her essence on his chin. Just remembering it, just licking his lips for the last little bit of flavour, let him know that he wasn't going to be satisfied with an ephemeral novel.

If she thinks I'm not going to be interested in her after we escape this, she's quite mistaken, he decided. Which means I need to disabuse her of that notion immediately...and by preference, make her crave me to the same extent that I want her. It would certainly salve my pride if she begged me to make love to her in the real world, Severus added with a silent smirk. It faded as he added to himself, ...Which means I need to thoroughly seduce her in this one. Somehow.

The bed shifted, making him jerk his forearm off his eyes. Brown curls cascaded down around him, attached to a face with warm brown eyes and a hot red mini-dress. Hermione. Straddling him, kneeling on all fours over his body. He hadn't even heard her enter, nor mount the stairs. She smiled down at him and purred, "My, what deep, black eyes you have."

"All the better to see...your cleavage with," Severus managed, his voice faltering as he glanced down and caught sight of the cleft between her breasts.

She grinned and thankfully continued to not mention any maternal ancestors as she added, "What a big nose you have!"

"All the better to smell your musk with," Severus returned, remembering the scent of her arousal and how it had made him so deliciously dizzy with lust.

"Gee, I thought it was all the better to grind into my clitoris with," Hermione retorted. She blushed as she said it, but she also smiled.

Encouraged, Severus grabbed her arms and rolled them over. She squirmed further onto the bed, and he released her so that he could follow her. Now it was he who straddled her, caging her between his palms and his knees. Slowly, he licked his lips. She followed his tongue, licking her own. No doubt remembering what he had done to her out in the woods.

Severus flashed her a wicked grin and muttered a single wandless word. "Manuxtengua."

And smoothed each of his eyebrows two seconds later, as his tongue finished lengthening and thickening.

The shocked, glazed look in her eyes made him very hard in response. As did her lust-filled whisper. "My...what a huge tongue you have..."

"All the better to eat you with," Severus muttered, for the first time in his life grateful that he'd eavesdropped on James Potter and Lily Evans that one night in his seventh year. Back then, he had burned with jealousy and envy. In the intervening years, he had flinched at the thought of using the spell on the loose women he bought in the Alley--where who knew how many wizards had used their bodies. But by her own admission, his savoury-sweet little employer had only ever experienced a Weasley.

Snapes were far, far more superior. At least, this particular Snape was determined to prove it irrefutably to her, even if it took every sexual trick that he could imagine. Crawling down the length of her body, he stood when he crawled off the side of the bed, and stripped away his clothes. His enchanted tongue darted out to lick his jaw-line, scraping at the last hints of their previous encounter. Letting her know it was going to happen all over again, if with a twist.

Scrambling upright, she started divesting her own clothes. Shoes and stockings, dress and thong all thunked and fluttered to the floor of the loft, respective to their materials. They followed the dropping of his jacket, the shucking of his boots, and the doffing of his trousers. That was when Severus discovered it wasn't the leather of his pants that had been giving him a wedgie since his arrival in this book-wrought world. It was the thong briefs he was wearing. He almost smacked his face into his palm in mortification. The lustful look in his bed-partner's eyes mollified him. As did the way she grabbed what little fabric there was, peeling it back from his erection.

And then those lips of hers, those luscious, talkative, know-it-all lips wrapped around him. She might not have much experience, but damn--Severus was ready to moan on a stack of holy books that she was naturally talented in all matters concerning her mouth...until he heard her whispering, "Manuxtengua."

He almost dropped to the floor, feeling her tongue lengthen and wrap around not only his prick, but his scrotum, too; the tip of it played with the soft spot between his testicles. Staggering free with pure self-preservation instinct, Severus tried to strengthen his knees as she, too, licked her tongue over her eyebrows, grinning impishly.

"Fuck!" the vulgarity escaped him involuntarily. It felt good to say, and it was indeed what they were going to do, so Severus swore it again. "Fuck!"

"Gladly!" And the minx giggled!

That did it. He tackled her, wrestling her onto the bed the proper way. Save that where her head was near the pillows, he doubled up his legs, and where her legs were near the foot, he buried his head. She twisted him onto his side so that she wasn't crushed, obligingly lifting one thigh so that he could use the other for a pillow. After that, it was a matter of wrapping and licking, laving and tickling as he penetrated her and she engulfed him.

It was indeed much like the scene he'd witnessed that night in Greenhouse 6, so many years before, though he hadn't known if Evans had used the spell herself, back then. This time around, however, it was Severus who enjoyed the pleasure of literally tongue-fucking his beloved while he listened to her muffled squeals of pleasure, and not some oversexed, under-brained teenaged rival while his young self merely looked on in deeply sour envy.

I wonder if the Hunter is going to be James Potter...and if I'll have the pleasure of killing him? Severus thought distractedly, forgetting for a few moments that the Hunter's job was to kill the Big Bad Wolf, and not the other way around. The thought was almost enough to make him climax. He didn't want to flood her mouth, however. Knowing that this was merely a book, that there would be no lasting consequences, Severus withdrew his tongue from her depths, eliciting a muffled moan of protest from her. Prying his hips free from her clutches, he righted himself in relation to her, slotted his hips between her legs, and thrust home in the aperture he had ensured just moments ago was thoroughly lubricated.

Breath hissing between his teeth at the sheer pleasure, he rested inside her body for a long, self-controlling moment. Until he felt her licking his lips, and opened his eyes to see that distended appendage stretching up between them like a pink, nubbly serpent. Grinning fiercely, Severus stuck out his own tongue, making her giggle as the two organs slid together. It was gross and messy, and yet erotic as his head lowered to hers, their tongues meeting inside in a tangling, erotic knotwork. Her thighs lifted, her calves crossing behind his buttocks, encouraging him to move inside of her.

It was incredible, feeling every slippery nuance of her folds and depths, without the slightly numbing distance of a Prophylaxis Charm protecting him from her flesh. He never used a whore without one. Rape had never interested him either, and so he had always wondered what it would be like to make love to a woman bareback, with nothing protecting either of them from sexual diseases or the threat of an unplanned pregnancy.

Heaven. Pure sexual heaven. Heat and wetness clasped him in spasming welcome as she moaned into his mouth--he increased his thrusts. His brain--both of them really--was boiling with lust. Sliding his mouth to her ear, he breathed the emotions that were within him into the delicate curves as she scraped her fingernails encouragingly down his back. "Oh, god, Hermione, I've wanted to fuck you for so long...I want to fill you with my seed, fuck you until you scream, pour every pounding piece of me into you until I've fucked a hole for myself in your heart--"

Oh, shite. Where did that come from?

"Oh gods, Severus--yes! "

Her shout turned into a wail as she stiffened, then bucked up into him, orgasming hard. Swearing, Severus pumped hard and fast as he, too, spasmed with his climax. Sagging onto his elbows, careful to pin down her body with his own only from the waist down, Severus struggled for breath. This was the most sexually satisfying experience of his life...and it was an illusion conjured by a book. Waiting in the post-repletion glow for the tome to release them, he jumped as the front door banged open, downstairs.

"SINNERS!! " a voice thundered.

Severus scrambled to free himself from his partner, snatching up his wand. He felt foolishly exposed in his naked state as thunderously loud footsteps pounded up to the loft...and the diminutive figure of Filius Flitwick, his former colleague, rushed into view. His wand was out, but he wasn't wearing his usual pinstripe robes with spats. Instead, he had on a strange replica of Snape's old teaching robes, save for the rectangular insertion of a white vicar's collar at his throat.

Behind him on the bed, Hermione covered herself with part of the down comforter, and nudged Severus in the hip with a proffered pillow. Clutching it over his loins with his free hand, he faced his enraged ex-colleague. "Now, Filius..."

"Don't you 'Now, Filius' me!" the Charms Professor roared at full-squeak, somehow sounding intimidating at the same time that he sounded amusing. Scowling at his fellow teacher, Filius lectured him sternly. "You have fornicated with a young woman of good breeding and excellent background, and now you will pay for your licentiousness! Marry her, or die!"

"What? " Severus whipped his head to the side, staring at his partner. "Marry you?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's just a book! Luna discussed what to do with the Hunter part of the story...and so she came up with the idea of Vicar Ulf Hunter, here."

Filius--or rather, Ulf--lifted his chin belligerently. "That's right! And you're either going to make an honest woman out of her, or die like the scoundrel you are!"

"--It's just a book, Severus!" his partner and employer pleaded, clearly expecting him to explode with indignation.

Frankly, Severus expected it, too. For about half a second or so. He was too sated to bother with outrage, however. Too satisfied with what had just happened...and too smart to deny that the two of them had basically already lived as husband and wife for the last half-year--hell, she cooked like his wife, and he fixed up their house like her husband! They argued together, talked together, worked together, read in contented silence together...

The only thing they hadn't done was sleep together. And this book--ten thousand points TO Ravenclaw, Severus thought, feeling a hell of a lot better about Looney Luna Lovegood right there and then--had just ameliorated that serious oversight. Turning to face the woman on the transfigured bed, Severus dropped to one naked knee, ignoring the petite character bristling at the top of the loft stairs. Lifting her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles and asked quite seriously, "Hermione...would you do me the great honour of consenting to be my wife, for now and for always?"

She blushed, cleared her throat, and replied, "Erm...yes. Of course. I would be deeply honoured to be your wife."

"Excellent!" Filius-Ulf squeaked, and lifted his wand for a swish-and-flick. "By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you--free of this book! "

Darkness grabbed Severus in its teeth, shaking him free of the loft.

CHAPTER FIVE

...

He came back to himself at the breakfast table, with a lap full of blushing housemate. Hermione cleared her throat. "Erm...well! That was interesting..." Slapping the volume shut, she dropped it on the table in the midst of its wrapping paper and dust-jacket, and tapped it with her wand, quickly securing it against another accidental entrapment. "I'll send it back to Luna, so neither of us gets lost in the book again before all those problems are fixed..."

"Not so fast," Severus countered, wrapping his arms around her as she squirmed to slide out of his lap. "We have a few things to discuss."

Blushing, Hermione tried to free herself. "I'm not going to expect you to...to do anything, Severus. It was just a book. I know you don't really--"

"Hush!" he commanded, covering her lips with his fingertips. His other arm remained tightly wrapped around her hips, holding her on his wool-clad thighs. When she stopped struggling, though not blushing, he continued. "I see no reason to delay matters more than absolutely necessary. A quick visit to the border of Scotland should see the matter properly addressed; there's no waiting period, up there. So, if there is anyone you want along as a witness, it's best you contact them quickly."

"Contact who?" she asked quizzically as he withdrew his fingers. "For what?"

"For witnessing our marriage," Severus reminded her.

"Our what? " She struggled again in his lap, but only far enough to face him. "Severus, have you lost your mind?"

"No, but you've lost your wits," he shot back. "Or do you not remember your vow just now, in the book, to marry me and be my wife?"

"But...but that was just in the book!" she spluttered. "It was just the release-condition! You don't have to hold yourself to it!"

Twining his fingers in her curls, Severus brought their noses within gentle bumping distance, peering into her tawny brown eyes. "Oh, but I do," he all but purred as she gaped at him. "You see, I didn't ask you to marry me temporarily. I asked you 'for now and for always.' A prospect to which you readily agreed."

And then, to shut her up in case she had any arguments...he kissed her. As thoroughly as he had in the books. Idly, Severus upped Ravenclaw's standings by a few more points; its alumni, Miss Lovegood, had an incredible skill for realism. She tasted in real life exactly as she had tasted in that silly novel. At least, with this set of lips. While he had her distracted, Severus shoved the book and the breakfast plates off of the table, ignoring the crack of breaking pottery as something fell off the broad surface. Rising from his chair, he settled her back onto the cleared spot and yanked at her clothes, doing his best to continue snogging her.

He felt like moaning in relief when she started tugging at his own garments in turn. Later, he would undoubtedly find a few buttons missing and scattered somewhere on the floor, but right now, it was a very small price to pay for admission into her jeans--ah, yessss... An impatient fumble removed the trainers blocking him from drawing the denim down her legs, and then they were on the floor, followed by the scrap of her panties. His own trousers pooled around his ankles, his breath hissing through his teeth as she lowered his boxers--much more sensible than that stupid thong-thing--and then her thighs were splaying in familiar welcome, only this time it was even wetter and hotter and more wonderful than before.

Severus didn't care that he knew that this was real life, not a book. He didn't care that he hadn't cast the Prophylaxis Charm. Hell, half the tabloids in Wizarding Britain thought the two of them were shagging each other like mad rabbits in secret. Thrusting deep, he held himself still for a moment, murmuring his proposal into her ear.

"I intend, my dear fiance, to mark you as my own. We already share this house as husband and wife, save for the most intimate definition of it. Everyone thinks we're doing this outside of marriage, making me a consciousless, advantage-taking bastard, and you a loose woman of no morals. When neither of us qualifies for such baseless labels.

"To rectify this oversight, I will put my ring on your finger, link my name legally and permanently to yours...and fill your womb with my seed. You will be my companion, my partner, my wife and the mother of my children, and you will be my just and long-overdue reward for the hell I endured, helping bring the Dark Lord to a very long-overdue end. And for every day and year and decade we are married," he added as she twisted her head to glare sharply at him, "...I shall endeavour to enslave myself to your heart. I know I'm a bastard who doesn't deserve your heart, but I am going to claim it...and one day, I will be worthy of it."

Her eyes glittered, filling with tears. Flinging her arms around him, Hermione choked out a sound that could have been his name, and pulled him into a heated kiss. Carefully repressing the urge to smile, Severus knew he had snared her in his wiles. It was only fair. She had certainly enthralled him, in the archaic, slavery-based sense. One taste of her sweet body, and he was willing to do anything to keep her. Luckily for him, he didn't have too many scruples as to how to go about it. Luckily for her...he did have some. Of course, the breathless, enthusiastic snogging and tonsil-sucking on her part was a distinct reassurance that she wasn't objecting to his high-handed insistence that they marry. He resumed his slow, tantalizing thrusts, teasing her with a taste of what he had given her while they were in the books....

A long, satisfying while later, after he had filled her with his essence on both the kitchen table and in the broad four-poster bed she'd claimed for her own, after he'd licked that essence out of her and proved that the Tongue Extension Charm was real and not just some literary device, Severus found himself cuddling with Hermione Granger. Yes, cuddling. He lay on his back, with his curly-haired vixen of a housemate and employer plastered to his side. One of his arms cradled her back, holding her close, while the hand of the other toyed with some of the locks that had spilled in a tangled mess over his chest.

As necessary as all that shagging had been...they still had things to discuss. "So."

"Mmm?" she asked sleepily, nuzzling his pectoral muscle with her cheek.

"...You will marry me, will you not?" Severus found himself asking insecurely, instead of launching into the details of his plans to drag her off to Scotland to wed them over the anvil.

"Silly Severus," Hermione muttered sleepily. "Of course I will."

"Good. Now, about Gretna Green..."

"I love you," she sighed.

Severus stilled. Not from the shock of her confession--she had screamed at one point after they had retired to her bedchamber on the first floor that he was her Slytherin Sex God, after all--but from the strength of his emotions in response. Blinking rapidly, he squeezed her shoulders. "Good...good."

He thought for a moment that she was falling asleep. But her voice asked with more wistfulness than weariness in its tone, "...Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione," he found himself admitting. "I...love you, too."

Now the weariness came through as she giggled briefly, tiredly. "It'll get better, you know. Saying it."

"God, I hope so," he muttered, uncomfortable with any display of mushy sentimentality, whether it was coming from him, or just aimed at him. Still, he gathered her closer, wrapping both arms around her as she giggled again. "You realize all of this does not exempt you from fixing our meals for the next week."

"Hmphf," she snorted. "Nor does it exempt you from peeling back another layer of the Black Family Travesty."

"We'll put our own up in its place," he found himself offering. This time, it was she who stilled. Carefully, he reassured her, "--With lineages on both the Muggle and Wizarding sides of our families. Proudly displayed. Well...my father was a bastard and a drunkard, and I'm not very keen on my pureblooded relatives... Maybe we'll just post your side of the family."

She snorted again, this time from laughter. "Nice try. If it's one thing I've learned from the war, you cannot escape your past. You can learn to live with it; you can atone for any misdeeds, occasionally find some means of escaping the memories, and eventually the pain will fade...but it's a part of you."

"Speaking of escapism," Severus murmured speculatively, "how soon will Miss Lovegood have that book fixed, do you think?"

"What, fancy another go?" Hermione snickered. "Wasn't Filius bad enough?"

Wincing, he involuntarily recalled Minerva and her bermuda tartan shorts.

Hermione lifted her head from his chest. "...Excuse me, but did you must mutter, 'Avada me now'?"

"We'll wait for the next fairytale," he asserted, ignoring her question.

"You know, I always did have a thing for the Beast, in Beauty and the Beast," she sighed, sinking back into place. "As a little girl."

"I liked that one, too, in my youth...but if anyone else calls you the 'Beast', I'll have to hex them."

Once again, her head lifted from its resting spot on his chest. "--Severus Snape, did you just make a joke?"

"You'll have to torture me, Hermione, to get a confession to pass my lips," he quipped, closing his eyes.

Then snapped them open again as she stated firmly, "Manuxtengua! "

Merlin...what a way to be tortured... The feel of her tongue laving his nipples at the same time was incredible. Unspeakable. Hands burying in her curls as she licked her way down to his navel, then his straining shaft--and he had honestly thought he hadn't another round in him, after they'd ended the last one--Severus massaged her scalp while her tongue did all the work. A stray thought had him reaching for one of the wands on the nightstand. A flick-and-swish, and the duvet transformed itself into a scarlet cloak.

Lifting her face, she released his genitals from her tongue, retracting it long enough to ask, "What...?"

Severus smirked. "You do look 'luscious' in red, Hermione. A pity I cannot give Miss Lovegood a thousand House points for coming up with that book...or Gryffindor, for curling my toes."

Blushing, she dipped her head again, and did her best to indeed curl his toes.

The End

****

Lost in a Book Challenge

Offered by Ladyofthemasque

Based upon the story "Lost in a (Not So) Good Book" by Bubblebunny (http://ashwinder.sycophanthex.com/viewstory.php?sid=12466)

Here's the Lost in A Book Challenge:

1. Hermione Granger and Severus Snape encounter a wizarding romance novel

2. They get sucked literally into the storyline, taking on the roles of the hero and heroine

3. They must complete the storyline of the novel in order to escape the book and return to the real world

4. They must fall in love with each other during the course of their adventure, though they don't have to start out that way, if you don't want. The main genre will therefore be Romance.

5. The sub-genre of the novel can be any category--Western, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Regency, Contemporary, Horror, Medieval, Prehistorical, and so forth...but the MAIN category must remain focused on building some sort of romance between SS/HG (mildly romantic or downright smutty or some combination thereof).

6. The number of "chapters" should be at least 5, though the chapters can be as short as 100 words, or as long as 10,000. (There shall be no limit to the size of the story, but it would be really, really nice if you finished it, and didn't abandon it...)

7. Severus and Hermione must kiss at least 3 times, though it doesn't have to be voluntarily at first. Greater levels of passion are at the author's discretion, but nothing lesser will be accepted.

8. The Deadline for this Challenge (submitting the *first* chapter) will be February 17th, 2007, because it's my birthday, and I want to read some nice prezzies from all the fine writers here at WIKTT. If there's lots of enthusiasm, I'll definitely consider extending the deadline.

9. Feel free to use other HP characters to fill out the various supporting cast roles. CAVEAT: If you decide to place this into a specific genre, such as the Anita Blake series (by Laurell K. Hammilton...mmm, Severus as Jean-Claude...), please be mindful that some fanfic sites do not allow crossover-fics to be posted on their boards (for example, Ashwinder or RestrictedSection.org).

10. Suggested (but not required) phrases to be included in the story:

-- "You ripped my bodice!" "Well, it is a bodice ripper!"

-- "...I miss my cat." (because I like Crookshanks) OR "...I miss my pussy." Feel free to form jokes from this second line, if you like.

-- "You know, we are a witch and a wizard; we can cast anti-gravity charms back on the planet. We didn't have to go into outer space to just float around the room together."

-- "Why are you wearing neck-bolts?" "They go with my school tie!"

-- "You realize, of course, that the memory of you in makeup, high heels and tights will make an excellent Pensieve-based blackmail opportunity." "I would think you would realize that in this era, it is very manly to wear...makeup, high heels, and... I look like a bloody ponce, don't I?" "A bloody ponce with kissable red lips and gorgeous, sexy legs. You really should wear heels and skintight pants more often." "I should?" "Yes; you have very lickable calves."

-- "Please, let this not be a Betty Neels plot! For once, I'd like to have the chance to actually shag the hero!" (Or "...shag the heroine!", depending on who is doing the pleading.)

-- "You can't fall in love with me! I'm supposed to be the villain! Don't you see my black clothes? The villain always wears the black clothes! I can't be the bloody hero!" "It's called an anti-hero, Severus, and they're very popular among the ladies, these days. You should know the type--the bad-boy who turns out to be good, deep down inside? You're practically the poster-boy!"

-- "Oh, dear god--it's a Mary Sue!" "A what?" "A Mary Sue! A super-character invented by hack writers to create a too-powerful, too-perfect fictional character. It's the sort of person the writer secretly wants to be, and yet no one else wants to read about! At least, not without feeling the urge to mangle the book!"

-- Anybody who can work in the line from that other WIKTT Challenge, "--You are unbelievable!" gets extra brownie points!