Author's note: Oh yes. I'm back. I finished university and with a job under my belt, I actually have more time AND am getting paid. So this adulthood thing is working out splendidly. I will be clogging email with lots of story updates since I've finally got time to write. To those who've waited so patiently (and prodded me to ask how this story was coming along), thank you!

Italics will indicate the parodied fanfic, while normal text indicates what Hermione and Severus perceive as reality. If it's been a while, I suggest skimming the first two chapters again to catch up.

Here goes!

Disclaimer: No money is made – I just like to play.

Forbidden Chapter 3 – The Ideal Man

"Professor?" Hermione shrieked at the area where Snape had been standing a minute ago. She wasn't too terribly worried about his safety – after all, what could go wrong in a library? But without him, she was trapped and how was she supposed to become the youngest witch to earn her Potions Mastery if she was trapped in a library? It wasn't even practical to brew here since the smoke issues from some Master-level potions was rather hazardous.

With Professor Snape had vanished her only other intellectual companion and how exactly could she bounce complicated ideas off of Harry and Ron? The two could barely tie their trainers without her.

She looked around for some kind of clue. The fanfic Snape had been holding lay crumpled on the floor. Inwardly, she winced at the harsh, albeit unintended, treatment of a book. Then she remembered that it was a fanfic and didn't really count as a book.

"Harry. Ronald. Take a stack of fanfics from the shelf. You two go together and search for a clue that could get us out of here. I will try and find Professor Snape."

"But 'Mione," Ron mumbled. "We always go as a Trio. It's in our contracts."

Hermione hmphed. "I'm renegotiating mine anyway. And zip your fly."

Ron fumbled for the zipper. "But why aren't you coming with us?"

Hermione fought the urge to sigh obnoxiously. She wanted to put this delicately. Maybe she should try honesty? After all, who could build an entire plot around a simple misunderstanding?

"Ron, you are quite thick and I would rather find Professor Snape so we can actually get out of here. Not that I mind being trapped in a library so much, but being trapped here with you two..."

Ron and Harry both blinked at her. "Merlin, Hermione. Be a little less blunt, will you?"

Hermione flushed. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Harry nodded.

"Well to be fair, you two would have been expelled ages ago because of your terrible grades. Though I suppose they would have exempted Harry to fight Voldemort."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked. "That mangy Dark wizard we defeated before we made the entirely logical decision to forgo fame and fortune to return to Hogwarts to complete degrees we probably would have been awarded anyway?"

"I want my degree the honorable way, Harry!" Hermione snapped. "Now off you go. I'm going to find Professor Snape."

Bracing her shoulders, she picked up Snape's fanfic. "'Forbidden Pleasures.' Oh dear."

With a fresh dose of mental courage, she opened the fanfic and felt a familiar tug behind her navel.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other as she disappeared and her fanfic dropped to the ground. Ron shrugged and pulled a handful of fanfics from the shelf.

"Oi, Harry. Want to try this one first?"

Harry nodded. How bad could it be?

"Harry?"

"What, Ron?"

"What's 'slash?'"

Snape growled again and flicked his wand in frustration. Here, wherever here was, seemed to be immune to magic. He couldn't even call up a Lumos. So that was it. One of the greatest wizards of his generation and he was blindly fumbling his way down an unfamiliar hallway.

Of course, his generation had also produced the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black, so being the best of such illustrious company wasn't nearly as impressive as it sounded.

Snarling, he pushed a greasy lock of hair behind his ear, cursing Potter and Weasley under his breath for their ignorance. He considered throwing Granger into the mix as well, but his anger at her was less directed at her actions and more at her offensive taste in friends. Fanfiction indeed. He snorted just as he heard footsteps approaching behind him. Brandishing his wand before him, for all the bloody good it would do him, he prepared himself to face down the nearing presence of...

"Lumos," a deep voice intoned.

Himself?

Snape stared at his counterpart.

His five o'clock shadow spread evenly across a chiseled jaw. Coal black eyes glowed with a restrained knowledge of the Dark Arts. He smirked to himself, his even, white teeth glistening as fire spewed from his wand to alight in the mouths of the snake-shaped lamps that lined the hallway. Silky hair as dark as midnight was tied back with a green ribbon. His cloak lovingly caressed his thighs. He wore all black, as befitting his misunderstood heart, and the rows of buttons that ran down his front seemed to strain to stay closed over his muscular chest.

Snape's eyes widened. This doppelganger was headed straight for him and made no indication that he had seen the less manly version of the Potions Master.

"What the hell?" he sputtered as the evil twin passed straight through him. He smelled aftershave. Snape growled. He never wore aftershave.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as a smaller body collided with his back.

"Miss Granger!"

She peered around him to stare at the retreating figure of Evil Snape, her face aglow with something like amazement.

"Who is that?"

Snape glowered.

"That thing," he gestured, "is an abomination."

"A sexy abomination." Hermione waggled her eyebrows. "Whom we should follow to look for clues," she clarified as Snape turned his withering stare on her.

He sneered down at her. "Clues? Or do you just want more eye candy?"

Hermione colored faintly. "No, professor. But I am no more keen on staying here than you are. I have a life and aspirations that can't be realized if I'm stuck in some bloody fanfic. I sought you out because you are the smartest person I know. So will you help me or not?" She finished, nervously wiping her hands on her pants.

Snape nodded after a while. "I suppose we should follow the most obvious participants in this storyline."

"I already tried to interact with this world," Hermione sighed, tugging at her collar dreamily as she glanced again at the hallway where Evil Snape had gone. "But no luck."

Snape shrugged again. "The sooner we find what we're looking for, the better. Come on."

Together, they set off after the twin. Snape didn't notice that Hermione had smoothed her hair and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. Sure, they couldn't interact with the members of this world. But it never hurt to try.

The pair followed Evil Snape until he stopped outside the Head Girl's dormitory.

Severus didn't glance around like any other late-night lover would. Thanks to his innate respect for the castle, it always alerted him to incoming visitors. Severus was the castle's favorite. His cloak felt ever so good against the grout. Confident he wasn't being followed, he slid his hand down the stone wall before knocking. The castle seemed to shiver under his touch. A moment passed and the door opened.

There stood Head Girl Hermione Granger, wide-eyed and breathless as she gazed up at her tall Potions professor, who always smelled like sandalwood no matter what he'd been brewing.

"I told you I'd be back, Miss Granger," Snape purred, leaning forward to gaze into her golden amber chocolatey eyes.

Her bosom heaved.

"Hermione..." he said, his voice low and husky. "I want to talk to you."

She shivered. Of course he wanted to talk to her. All men liked to slow down and really chat about their feelings before having sex. You know, because if you talk about feelings first, you've got plenty of time for cuddling later!

Her bosom heaved harder.

Hermione turned her face away bashfully. "Oh professor. You know what I want. But I have my N.E.W.T.s to study for and...I'm a virgin," she finished quietly, her silky and agreeably curly hair falling into her face.

Snape reached forward and pushed the hair behind her ear. "Hermione...I've kept a tight rein on my lust since you've grown into a beautiful young woman. I will have you tonight. We will make love all night long. As for your N.E.W.T.s," he said, moving his hand to cup her face and run his thumb along her rose petal lips. "You are the smartest witch of your age. I am honored to be in your intellectual presence," he whispered with a small smile.

At this point, Hermione's bosom was heaving so hard that her rather pendulous, yet peachy firm, breasts bounced up and down. Severus' eyes greedily took in the image, but in a restrained, gentlemanly way.

Hermione glanced down at her own average cleavage with a glum sigh.

Snape leaned forward, tilting Hermione's head back. "Call me by my name."

"Severus."

He seemed to flinch and blink back a sudden mist in his eyes.

"It's just been...so long since anyone said my name with love. Come here, you innocent girl. Let me use you as a redemptive plot device."

He took her into his arms and the two swept into her room, closing the door behind them.

Snape looked down onto the rapidly reddening face of Hermione.

"I don't think this writer has ever been close to having sex," he said finally. "It hurts the first time and no man can possibly pound away in a virgin all night, especially if he's been 'keeping a tight rein on his lust'" Snape mimicked.

Hermione smirked and flashed him a teasing smile.

"I'm a virgin, professor. How would I know that?"

"Miss Granger!" Snape sputtered. "Why do you think it was necessary to tell me that? And let's go. I don't think we'll be finding any clues here."

Hermione tugged at his sleeve. "Are you sure?" She pointed.

On the floor in a familiar spiky script was a piece of paper. Further inspection revealed the words "redemptive plot device – noun – A moment that allows the reader to lessen the evils of one character by placing him in romantic juxtaposition with another, less evil character. See: Byronic hero."

Snape sneered. "How cute. We get to play 'spot the shitty fanfic.'"

Time passed.

"What the hell was that?" Snape asked as the hallway seemed to rush around them before settling back down.

The door opened. A thoroughly ravished Hermione was leaning against the door frame holding a green silken robe loosely across her ample chest. Snape was adjusting his pants, no doubt encouraging his enormous trouser snake back into underweared submission.

He kissed her forcefully. "Until next time, Miss Granger."

"Oooh, professor."

"And don't forget – I left you a present at the Dripping Broomstick Sex and Underwear Store."

Snape snorted again. "So now the writer intends to send them to a sex shop?"

Hermione shrugged before rolling up the piece of paper that contained their first clue. "There are, after all, only so many ways to transfigure a broomstick. Now let's go. We've got other fanfics to explore."

She marched on, leaving a gaping Snape in her wake.

Ron had decided that he hated this world. Everyone was too damn happy. And well-dressed. He felt even more out of place than usual.

"What about this door, Harry?" He gestured to what amounted to the 600th door they would have tried.

"Oh why not?" Harry replied in frustration. "We can't talk to anyone. We can't even interact in this world. And we have no fucking clue what we're supposed to be looking for. Are we looking for a slash?"

Ron shrugged as he pushed the door open. Curiously, they could interact with objects not related to the main storyline, but not with the people.

"Oh Sirius."

"Oh Remus."

Ron blanched. "Oh Merlin!"

They ran out the door, slamming it behind them.

"Put a fucking Patronus at the door or something! Merlin!" Harry sputtered, trying to blink away the image of Sirius' hairy behind.

Ron looked green.

A piece of paper slowly drifted from the ceiling into Harry's hand.

"Unlikely Slash – Noun – The pairing of two typically male characters who show no inkling of sexual interest in each other. See: James/Severus."

Harry paled further. "I'd rather not."

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"I don't think I like it here."

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "Me neither, Ron. I bet that's our first clue though. Let's see if we can find our way out of here."

A/N: Heh. Underweared submission. Every time I type dialogue for Ron, I hear it in the Potter Puppet Pals voices. Every time. See you next time for Chapter Four: Rape isn't love/FANfic.