Verse 1

A/N This fic was inspired by a traditional Irish song performed by the Dubliners. While it is not my first attempt at fanfic, it is the first I have posted on the web. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks to Nesscafe for encouraging me.

Disclaimer: Neither the song nor the characters are mine... damn.

The Foggy Dew

Verse 1

The three of them spent the summer before their seventh, and final-- thank God!--year at Hogwarts. The only two months of peace and quiet I have has been buggered up by the golden trio. (Whoever came up with that moniker deserves a resounding Crucio!) It wasn't a total waste, as the three of them did occupy their time in some semblance of valuable pursuits. Dumbledore's doing, I'm sure. For all that he can come across as a dotty old man, he's been around children long enough to know that unless they're kept busy, a great ruction usually ensues, and we're left cleaning up after the insolent brats. They perfected their defensive spells and were working on offensive hexes and spells, at least the boys were. Albus saw fit to saddle me with the know-it-all. He seemed to think we could single-handedly restock every wizarding hospital and clinic in the U.K., and some on the Continent to boot. Truthfully, I was grateful for the help, though I would never breathe a word of it. Preparing healing potions for the aftereffects of war wasn't a chore I relished, but it was a very real necessity. I'd never tell her, but she's got a knack for potions, and should we survive the war to request an apprenticeship, I won't say no.

Normally, I would have relished the opportunity to terrorize an annoying student; however, the chit wasn't intimidated by me anymore. Merlin knows how she managed that, but being the consummate Slytherin--and I am the consummate Slytherin--I decided get my jollies that summer at the expense of dear Miss Granger's virtue. I considered it a honing of my skills at subtlety and persuasion. It wasn't a very ethical pursuit, but I'm not a very ethical man.

Ruddy tease that she is, she didn't give in. She kept me at bay throughout the summer, the school year, at Yuletide, and well into the spring. We continued working together for that entire time, and she was adamant about not capitulating to my subtle advances. But her breathless kisses, though infrequent, let me know she did desire me.

Now that was a heady sensation. Being the 'Greasy Bat' for more than twenty years doesn't do much for one's ego; yet somehow, that obnoxious girl knew that, and she used that information to manipulate me mercilessly. I thought I'd endured humiliation before, but that was nothing compared to the head of Slytherin House getting out-Slytherined by a Gryffindor who hadn't even sat her NEWTS. It was nothing overt, mind you, she was just nice to me. I am Severus Snape, feared Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and unless you are Albus Dumbledore, whose sanity has at times come into question, you aren't nice to me.

But she was.

She smiled, joked, cajoled, led me into witty repartee and asked incessant questions about potions and alchemy. During the holidays she would sometimes spend entire afternoons in my laboratory, chopping, dicing, mincing, grinding, peeling... she was never more beautiful than when her delicate fingers were stained with the innards of some detestable creature stupid enough to get caught.

The war came home to her one night as her parents' house was burned to the ground. Thankfully, her mother and father were out for the evening and were, subsequently, whisked away to a safe location. She asked me to be the secret keeper. I was touched, but I declined. "I am put into dangerous positions far too often to allow it, Miss Granger. Choose someone who doesn't have regular meetings with a powerful, yet psychotic master Legilimens."

"Of course, professor," she managed a wry, watery smile at my logic.

She was beautiful when she cried. Her brown eyes shone through the tears like a fine glass of amaretto, and I was warmed to the core at the sheer force of my affections for her.

Tricksy little Gryffindor.

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The Foggy Dew vs. 1

All over the foggy dew.

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