Written for the SSHG exchange over on Live Journal, for my darling friend Lenaa1987. If you don't know her work, please go and check it out - she's a brilliant writer.

There's also AMAZING art to go with thanks, thanks to the immense talent of MyWitch. It can be found under her name at AO3. It's absolutely incredible and exactly how I pictured both of them. Please go and give it some love.

All recognisable characters belong to JK Rowling and associates. Some other bits belong to various Celtic bands. No copyright infringement intended./small

Thanks to my betas for all the work they've done. Any remaining mistakes are mine, because I couldn't resist tinkering with it after they sent it back to me.

THE WHOLE OF THE MOON

"But what will you do, Severus", Minerva asked anxiously. "You'll be so cut off from us all, so isolated."

Severus gave an almost inaudible snort. "Of course, I know nothing of being isolated or cut off, do I, Minerva?"

"Oh Severus, I am-"

He cut her off abruptly. "Sorry. Yes, Minerva, I know all about you being sorry, and as I told you the last three times, I don't want to hear any more about it. It's over now and has been for a year. I'm not leaving because of any lingering resentment towards you or any of the others. I'm leaving because I don't want to teach any more."

Minerva nodded tremulously. "Of course, Severus. So, you'll be living in Durren? It's a lovely wee town. I recall holidaying near there as a child. I'm glad you'll still be in Scotland, at least. Do you know yet what you'll do to keep busy?"

Severus gave an involuntary glance at his heaving bookshelves. "I'm going to open a book shop. A Muggle book shop."

Ten Years Later

Severus arrived at the front door of his shop, coffee in one hand, keys and his dog's lead in the other. He unlocked the door, which opened with a creak, and shouldered his way inside. Granger pushed past him and galloped into the shop as usual, paws and fur flying madly. The phone was already ringing, oddly for this time of year. October was typically a quieter month, with the summer rush over and Christmas yet to begin. Although who was he kidding? Every month was quiet in a bookshop. Bloody internet shopping was destroying all the bricks and mortar bookshops. He reached the phone. "Portus Books," he rasped. Thirteen years since Nagini's attack, and still his voice took a few hours to warm up in the mornings. He supposed it matched the rest of his fifty year old body.

"Hello, I was just wondering if you're open today, and you obviously are," a cheery voice nattered down the line at him. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we're open until five every weekday from October until March."

"Oh great, I'll be in soon. I desperately need a book. See you in a bit!"

Severus shrugged off his barbour, mentally checking his stock of Chick Lit. There was no way that voice belonged to anyone who wanted to read the latest Man Booker winner. He opened his laptop, turned on the Eftpos machine and left it to work its magic as he released the dog from its lead. Granger, an enormous French Water Dog, shook himself and ambled over to a faded red velvet floor cushion near the front door. He sniffed, turned around three times and lay down. Severus grinned and sipped his coffee, picking up his own book and quickly becoming lost in the narrative.

An hour and a half later he was startled by the jangle of the bell as the door was pushed open. A riot of brown curls entered the room. He supposed there was a person attached, but that hair seemed to have its own life force, so he wasn't altogether sure.

"Oh hello, you gorgeous thing! Aren't you lovely!" cooed the hairy mass now occupying the front of his shop. The dog stood up and wagged his curly tail enthusiastically.

Severus smirked; Granger was always greeted like this.

The woman spoke again. "You are the sweetest dog, yes you are! You are beautiful! Oh!" Severus smirked once more. Granger, for some reason, seemed to have taken a liking to this woman. With his paws on her shoulders, he was nearly as tall as she was.

"Granger," he growed. "Sit down!"

The woman gasped. "Is your name Granger?" she asked the dog, her focus still on the chocolate beast now sitting sheepishly at her feet.

Severus, aware of his dog's verbal limitations, answered on his behalf. "Yes. He reminds me of someone I used to know."

The woman laughed. "That's so funny," she said, turning around, one had resting on the dog's head. "My name is Grang-FUCK! SNAPE!"

Severus blanched. "Miss...Granger. Meet your namesake."

Hermione Granger swallowed furiously. "Snape, did you seriously call your dog after me? Your dog?'

"Ah, well, you see..."

"Your fucking DOG? Am I that hideous?"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, calm down. It's nothing to do with your looks. Look at his coat! He's got your hair…" Severus' voice trailed off as he realised he had been less than flattering, and that some rather odd noises were coming from Miss Granger's direction. Crap, she wasn't crying, was she? Gingerly he stepped towards her, rarely used wand at the ready just in case.

Miss Granger's shoulders were shaking, but the face she turned to him wasn't angry. She was-Merlin, was she laughing?

"Your dog," she spluttered, "is called Granger! Because of his hair! Bloody hell, Snape, that's actually hilarious! Let me guess, you've got a pretty but dumb Red Setter called Weasley and a scrappy little chihuahua called Potter at home, haven't you?" She roared with laughter, tears pouring down her face.

Snape snorted. "You think Potter would be a chihuahua?"

"A chihuahua that thinks it's a Doberman, yes," she chortled.

Miss Granger stood up, wiping her eyes. Severus gave a slight smile. "Well, I think we can say that the ice has been well and truly broken. What, Miss Granger, are you doing in Durren?"

Hermione grimaced. "Which version would you like? You can choose between the Daily Prophet's story, Ron's account, or the truth."

Hermione couldn't quite believe her eyes. Was this really Professor Snape, Mean Git and Giant Arse Extraordinaire, laughing with her and displaying mild interest in her story? Had she hit her head on something? Was the town water supply laced with Laphroaig? Had she gone mad? Had he?

"I'll tell you my story, not that it's desperately salacious or even interesting, if you tell me yours," she bargained. "What on earth are you doing in Durren? And is this bookshop yours? If so, why Muggle books? Do you still use magic? Why did you leave-" she broke off abruptly at the look of mingled amusement and annoyance on Severus' face.

"Ah, Miss Granger, it is...reassuring, I suppose...to know that some things never change. The Thames keeps rolling, the church clock stands at ten to three, and Miss Granger asks questions."

Hermione blushed. "I have tried to curb that tendency, but in times of excitement…"

"Is this a time of excitement, then?"

Her blush grew deeper. "Um, yes? I mean, here I am, and here you are, and I haven't seen you for, it must be ten years, and, well, it's nice to see you, Professor."

"Severus. My name is Severus. I'm no one's professor these days."

"Well, then, Severus, it's Hermione, not Miss Granger. Well, technically it is still Miss Granger, but you know what I mean." Hermione wished fervently that she could stop babbling, just for a minute!

Her eyes widened when he gestured towards the front door. "Come," he said. "Let's go next door for a coffee while we talk. Granger, come!" Hermione chuckled again at the dog's name, and gazed longingly at the cramped aisles and past the squashy beanbags in the children's section. Severus pushed open the front door with its jangling bell, then gave a surreptitious look around before edging his wand out of his sleeve. Hermione recognised the simple locking spell he used; clearly Colloportus was enough here in this quiet muggle town nestled in the bay.

Bean Scene, the coffee shop next door, was quiet, dark and warm. Severus waved casually at the pierced and tattooed girl behind the counter. "The usual for me, thanks Vanessa." He turned to Hermione. "What would you like?"

"Oh, a latte, please, on skim if you have it?" She rummaged in her handbag for her wallet. Snape shook his head.

"My shout," he said. "I've got an arrangement with these chaps. They give me a discount on coffee, and I send as many of my customers their way as I can."

Vanessa nodded. "Plus, he tutors me and the other bloke who works on Thursdays. We'd never have got through school without him. My Dad says he's worth his weight in free coffee, but Sev insists on paying."

"Someone's got to fund your ink, Ness," he chuckled.

Once more, Hermione was flabbergasted. Professor Snape, hater of dunderhead teenagers, joking with this girl? She smiled at Vanessa and turned to follow Snape to a table in the far corner. His denim-clad legs (who knew Professor Snape was hiding a bum like that under his robes?) slid under the table as he sat down in the corner chair, gesturing to the chair opposite him. Her eyes widened as she took in the shirt he wore. Professor Snape, in a Simple Minds t-shirt?

"So," he said. "Why are you in Durren?"

Hermione tore her attention away from the remembrance of the glory of Snape's arse with difficulty, and gave a rueful smile.

"Well, as I said, there are three versions, and the truth is the least interesting. The Daily Prophet thinks Harry and I are having an affair, because we were seen leaving a hotel together early one morning. Never mind that Ginny was right behind us, and Ron and Draco were still asleep upstairs. We'd had a weekend away to see a show in the West End but Albus fell off George's broom, so Harry and Ginny had to leave. I went with them to look after James and Lily so that Molly could go to St Mungo's with them. Simple enough, but according to the Prophet, Harry and I were on a dirty weekend and he had to leave our "love nest" to rush to his dying child's side. Al broke his arm, for the love of Merlin. So the Prophet thinks I've run away in shame.

"Ron thinks there might be a shred of truth in that perhaps I am in love with Harry. Because Ron's a bloody idiot. Pretty, but dumb, like a Red Setter." She grinned. "Nothing either Draco or I can say will convince him that I'm not pining for Harry. Ginny thinks it's hilarious and calls me Harry's other wife. I thought it was funny at first, but I'm over it now. So Ron thinks I've run away so I don't have to see Harry any more."

Hermione laughed, but it was tinged with more than a little exasperation. She loved the boys, really she did, but sometimes she worried that Ron's IQ would bring hers down by association.

Severus smiled. "So, you're not having an affair with Potter, nor are you in love with him-and may I take this opportunity to commend you on your good taste-so, I ask again. What brings you to Durren?"

Hermione gave a small laugh. "I did warn you that it was the least interesting of all the options. I've moved away from London because I don't especially enjoy living in the city. I've wanted a sea change for a few years, and the time seemed right. I don't know if you know, but I liaise between the Ministry and Westminster. Floo calls and owls are adequate for the Ministry side, and the PM has taken the rather forward-thinking view that anyone who can work remotely, should work remotely. Cuts down on security costs at number ten, I suppose. Anyway, I think he's deluding himself if he thinks it'll work for anyone other than me (God, I love magic) but that's not my problem.

"As for why Durren, my grandparents had a place here, and I had quite a few holidays here when I was little. They died when I was nine or ten, and left the house to my aunt, who in turn left it to me. So here I am. I arrived the day before yesterday."

Severus said nothing. Hermione glanced at him, but his impassive face gave nothing away.

"Oh, God," she moaned. "I've destroyed your privacy, haven't I?"

Severus didn't quite know how to answer Hermione's question. Yes, his privacy was invaded, for want of a better term, but he wasn't altogether sure that was a bad thing.

He looked at her mortified face, and smiled.

"Hermione, you haven't really invaded my privacy. Had you arrived here six or seven years ago, I doubt very much you'd have got a hello out of me, let alone coffee and a chat. But I'm not the same man I was then, and I'm certainly not the same man I was when you were at Hogwarts. And besides, Durren might be small, but I'm sure it's big enough for the two of us. I'm in the shop most days, and other than a couple of pints at the pub on a Saturday night, I'm mostly at home."

As he spoke, Vanessa arrived with their coffees. "Here you are, one skinny latte and one cup of tar. I'm Vanessa, by the way," she smiled at Hermione.

"Hermione. I've just moved here; I arrived a couple of days ago."

"Oh yeah, that'll be the Bailey Street house? Nice to meet you. I suppose I'll see you at the pub on Saturday? Pretty much the whole village comes, and if we're lucky Sev might nick Robbie's guitar and give us a tune."

Hermione laughed. "Really?"

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he's good, but he only plays Deacon Blue or the Proclaimers. Sometimes a bit of Sawdoctors if he's in the mood for some Irish." Vanessa winked, and wandered back to the counter to serve another customer.

Severus glanced over at Hermione, who looked stunned. She smiled at him. "Mer-My goodness," she corrected herself. "I wish I could go back in time and tell my fifteen year old self that in another fifteen years I'd be planning to listen to Professor Snape play 'I'm on My Way' in a village pub in Scotland!"

Severus snorted. "I think your younger self would be heading straight to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione sipped her coffee. "I must say," she said, "I am looking forward to Saturday night." She paused, and blushed. "Would you...would you be interested in having dinner sometime? Maybe on Friday night? I'm not much of a cook, but it might be nice."

Severus gazed at her thoughtfully. That sounded very much like a date, to him. Was that something he wanted? He noted her bright, sparkling eyes, ready smile and what little of her curves he could make out under her green jumper. He'd enjoyed their conversation thus far. Little Miss Granger had certainly grown into an interesting woman, and he knew her brilliant mind would only complete the package. He nodded decisively. "I think I would like that very much. Thank you."

Hermione clattered around her tiny kitchen in a frenzy. What the bloody hell had she been thinking, offering to cook for Professor-no, for Severus? It wasn't like she couldn't cook at all, but for the love of Merlin, cooking for that disconcertingly sexy man (and again, she half wanted to tell her fifteen year old self that Professor Snape was not a greasy, ugly git, but was in fact a bit of a god. Ding Dong, indeed.) was something else entirely. Mercifully, she'd decided on steak and salad, with a pavlova-thanks, Australia, or was it New Zealand?-to follow. Not really right for autumn in Scotland, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and it was either that or scrambled eggs. There was nothing else in her repertoire that she felt comfortable enough not to stuff up under pressure.

Singing along to the song on the radio, she started setting the table. "Somewhere in my heart there is a star that shines for you... Fuck, I've no red wine, white will have to do…" At that moment the doorbell rang and she jumped, startled.

She put the water jug down on the sideboard, wiped her hands on her jeans and looked hurriedly in the hallstand mirror on her way to the front door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Severus and Granger outside. Severus proffered a bottle of wine, but it was Granger's offering of a bunch of yellow roses held carefully in his mouth that made her laugh. "Come in, both of you! Granger, how did you know yellow flowers are my favourite?"

Severus leaned down to kiss her cheek. "He didn't, but he has discerning taste."

Hermione laughed, taking the bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir from Severus' outstretched hand. "Thank you, I was just thinking I'd forgotten to buy a red."

Severus chuckled as he removed his battered barbour jacket, to reveal a red Housemartins t-shirt. Caravan of Love, 1987, it read. "I may have heard something to that effect as we walked up the path."

Hermione's hands flew to her hair. "Oh lord, was I singing out loud? I'm mortified."

Severus touched his hand to her cheek. "Don't be, it was lovely."

"You're too kind, and not terribly truthful, I'm afraid, but I'll let that one through to the keeper. Now, should I let this breathe or would you like a glass now?"

The rest of the evening flew by. In the end, it didn't matter that she'd forgotten the avocado, or that the steak was slightly overdone. The pavlova was pure perfection, and when Severus plucked the glass of dessert wine out of her hand to kiss her, that was even more perfect.

Hermione sighed contentedly. "I can't say this is what I was expecting when I dropped in to buy a book the other day, but I'm happy with where it's taken us so far."

He kissed her again. "As am I," he murmured. "Now, much as I don't want to, I'm going to have to go while I still can. This seems too good to rush. You are coming to the pub tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"That depends...are you playing?"

"I'm sure something can be arranged, if that's what you really want."

"It is. Do you take requests?"

"As long as it's Celtic, I should be fine. But not any of that Enya crap. Doesn't suit my voice at all."

Hermione chuckled at that. "Fair enough. How about The Waterboys? Whole of the Moon?"

Severus considered her request. "I do know that song, but there's another Waterboys song that might be more fitting. I'll decide on the night."

Hermione took a sip of her beer and smiled over at Vanessa. "I'm looking forward to hearing Severus play," she said.

"Oh, he's quite good. I wish he'd take requests, but he never does."

Hermione frowned. "He took my request. At least, he said he'd play it."

Vanessa grinned. "Interesting…oh, here he is. You'll enjoy this."

Hermione sat back and gazed at the small raised platform acting as a stage. Severus came out carrying a guitar. Another man behind him had a fiddle. Tonight, Severus had a well-worn black Pogues t-shirt on. How many band shirts did the man own? She hoped she'd have the chance to find out.

There was a hush as the fiddle began to play a lilting tune which Hermione recognised as a Christy Moore song. Severus' singing voice was as smooth as sixteen year old Lagavulin, and Hermione felt her heart being to melt. Three or four songs in, Severus cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.

"Hello, everyone, thank you for listening. I know I don't usually take requests-"

"Try never!" shrieked Vanessa.

"Very well then, I never take requests, but this one is special."

Hermione's heart raced and she wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. Vanessa nudged her shoulder and grinned widely.

Severus continued. "I had a request for a Waterboys song, and I nearly played it. But upon thinking about it, I wondered if this one might be more apt, if not yet, then very soon. Robbie?" And Robbie, his guitar safely in Severus' hands, picked up the fiddle and began the lilting introduction to another Waterboys song.

Hermione went cold, then hot, and couldn't stop the shocked and delighted smile spreading across her face as Severus sang.

"...he told me so

In a song he sang, and then I knew

A man is in love with you…"

Epilogue

December 2010

"For fuck's sake, Granger, get out of the bloody way!" Severus yelled as his morning coffee wobbled precariously on the edge of the kitchen bench.

March 2011

"Bloody hell, Granger! Watch your tail!"

September 2011

"Merlin wept, Granger, there's muddy footprints everywhere! Hermione'll do her nut!"

January 2012

"Granger! Christ on a bike, get away from that dead bird, you revolting animal!"

April 2012

"Go on, Granger, in you go."

Hermione looked up from her book, glasses blurring the outline of the enormous dog in front of her. "Hello Granger, darling. Are these for me?" She gently removed the bouquet of yellow roses from Granger's mouth, and leaned up to receive Severus' kiss.

"Granger and I have something important to discuss with you."

"Oh? Discuss away."

"We feel that it's becoming a little confusing, having two Grangers in the house. I thought Minerva was going to hex me last month when she heard me tell the dog to bugger off with his foul dragon breath."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, that was quite funny."

Severus smiled nervously. "Funny or not, we think there should only be one Granger in this household. Which is why," he paused, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box, "we were wondering, Granger and I, if you would do us the honour of becoming a Snape?"

The End