Albus was delighted with the Orrery time piece and assured Harry that he didn't have another like it in his collection. While Severus and Echo cooked dinner, Harry listened as Albus told him the gruesome story of Blind Hanus the Master Clockmaker and then told him about Posidonius who created the first Orrery.

Harry, seated at Albus feet, had his attention focused on his grandfather.

"The Orloj is the most magical of all clocks in the world. Built in the ancient city of Prague in the 13th century, it would gathered together the magic of the stars, Time, and the Saints of the Arcane. It only worked, as it should, once and it predicted its own folly. The elders of Prague determined to have the Orloj work so that it could predict the future for all wizard-kind, brought the master clockmaker, Hanus Carolinum in the late 13th century to repair the clock."

"Hanus was a wizard of many great works. He was an artist of incalculable power, but he was tricked by the elders who were ultimately afraid that should Hanus repair the Orloj and learn its secrets he would create another for his own use. He was petrified and then his eyes were burnt by Dark Magic so he could never repair his sight."

Harry let out a horrified gasp and wrapped his fingers in Albus' afghan blanket. "He couldn't let them get away with that, did he, grandpa?"

"Oh no, but he had to repair the clock. Or at least appear to repair a part of it. Year after year, he would damage one part, repair the other. Days before his death, he sabotaged the Orloj in such an ingenious manner, that no wizard was ever able to repair it again."

With a wave of his hands, the beautiful Orloj of Prague appeared as an image hovering over Dumbledore's lap. Harry rose up on his knees to get a closer look at the magical mechanism.

"Is it still there?" asked the little boy.

"It is, but no one knows it still holds within its gears the secrets of the future. Prague is now a city of Muggles and although their most talented clockmakers have done their best to reverse the damage Hanus caused, they've never quite managed it. Yet, despite this, the Orloj is still a thing of beauty and wonder, for wizard and Muggle kind alike."

In the kitchen Severus prepared the chicken while Echo worked on the salad. As she diced the carrots, her gaze strayed to the fast work Severus was making of the boneless chicken breasts as he sliced them into thin slivers. She admired his precise, sure movements.

Despite a window letting in the cool, ocean breeze, the kitchen was still rather warm so Severus had removed his frock coat and rolled the sleeves of his white, cotton shirt, up to his elbows. He had tied back his long, black hair with a simple black ribbon.

Echo stopped dicing as her mind wandered and began comparing Oland to Severus Snape. Oland had a bright, overly charming face and a profusion of curly, blonde locks that all the women seemed to swoon over. Echo had to admit, she had swooned as well. Severus had a face that was often like stone and was hard to read. However, in the few short weeks she had shared their cottage, she was beginning to learn to read his smirks and sneers. Echo was also beginning to learn that to look into the man's eyes was to see more expression than he felt comfortable revealing upon his face.

Oland's emotions easily ran from hot to cold at the drop of a hat. He had very little control over them, and often Echo had been embarassed for her ex-husband.

In public, Severus Snape's emotions were so perfectly controlled, it was a bit unnerving. Yet, with his son, and with Albus, he gave his emotions a little more freedom. He was relaxed around people he was comfortable with. Echo took it as a great compliment that the stoic man was beginning to relax around her.

Oland was a conniver, a manipulator, and quite frankly a bastard. He had very little intelligence, though, where it mattered. He had no interest in books, no interest in history, or trivial minutiae. Holding a conversation with Oland meant only discussing his current interests, which rarely involved her.

Conversation with Snape was a joy. It seemed there were few subjects he didn't have some knowledge of, and if he did come across something he didn't know, he was eager to involve her in the research to learn more. Echo had never had much interest in Potions when she was in school, and now she realised that may have been due to the very boring, completely uncreative Potions instructor she had. One afternoon Severus had let Echo into his small potions lab in the cottage where she watched him brew Wolfsbane. As he discussed each ingredient and how it related to the others, she watched his hands as they chopped, diced, sliced, and ground up ingredients. Never had Echo imagined that Potions could be an art like painting or sculpting, but in the hands of Potions Master Severus Snape, it was.

Echo's mind wandered as she watched Severus take the slices of chicken breast, perfectly season them, and then not drop them, but laid them perfectly in the pan. Not one single drop of fat was spilled or splattered. The chicken sizzled filling the kitchen with the aromatic scent of sage, garlic, and pepper. He then sprinkled in a Christmas coloured mix of diced red and green peppers, and those sizzled as well. He stirred, and flipped, and lifted the pan off the flame. With just the right amount of a sharp jerk, the entire contents of the pan flew upward, hovered a brief second, and dropped back into the pan. Severus did this three times before placing the iron skillet back upon the flame.

Severus knew he was being watched. At first he hadn't noticed that Echo's preparation of the salad ingredients had stopped, yet when no new noise of any kind came to his ears, he felt the gaze of her deep blue eyes resting upon him. Severus smirked to himself knowing she was watching him. He continued to cook the main course. Finally he put aside the chicken and checked the rice he was also steaming. He took a forkful of rice, studied it, then tasted it. With his tongue he tested the fluffiness and texture. By his estimation, the rice was complete. He decided, though, that a second opinion was needed. He filled the fork again, blew on the small portion to lower the temperature a bit and then turned abruptly to face Echo.

"Oh!" She was startled by the Potions Master turning towards her.

"Daydreaming, Miss Prosper?"

"What? Oh... uhm, no, I..." she frowned, knowing she'd been caught. She saw the forkful of rice. "What are you doing with that, Master Snape?"

"Ah, this," he said stepping closer. "I require a second opinion. Would you?" He bent slightly and held the rice in front of her.

"Of course." Echo leaned forward and felt only a tiny bit foolish as Severus slipped the bite of rice into her mouth.

He watched as she masticated the rice and then swallowed the small bite. "Your assessment, Miss Prosper?"

Echo frowned sharply. "Do you think you could stop calling me Miss Prosper? I feel like I've forgotten to bring you my homework assignment every time you do so."

Severus straightened and turned back to the rice. He turned off the flame and then spoke, not facing Echo, "I shall acquisce to your request if you also stop calling me Master Snape. As much as I do enjoy the formalities, I'd perfer relaxing a bit more in my home."

He heard a sigh of relief behind him and he smiled, very slightly. "My family were a very informal sort. I'd thought for a long time the lack of formality was an American thing." She continued to finish chopping the salad ingredients. "You won't find much in the way of formal manners here on Solonus, either. And, I do believe I am babbling."

Severus brought two glasses of wine over to the prep table and seated himself. He handed one of the glasses to Echo. "Babbling is better than becoming what your name is."

She took the glass, sipped at the wine, and then smirked at him, her blue eyes alight with a glint. "Careful, Severus, I could repeat everything so very easily."

He nodded and then took up a knife to help finish with the salad. "I've a question for you, Echo." She glanced at him over the rim of her glass of wine. He took that as permission to continue and did so. "I've noticed that you rarely perform your magic. In fact, I don't think I've yet to see your wand."

"That's because I don't have a wand," she smiled mischieviously.

"Wandless magic?" he asked.

"A prejudice of the Salem Academy. Wizards use wands, or staffs. Witches don't. I did wish for a wand at one time, and even purchased one when I came back to Greece. I was an utter menace. I went to move a chair in my house, and wound up sending it through the wall."

Echo liked the small upturn of his mouth on the left side and with the laughter that shone in his eyes, Severus was rather engaging to look upon. "Yes, well, I'm glad you find that funny. I wasn't laughing. I'm rather bad at home improvement spells and with my bookshop floundering that first year, I was stuck with a view from my bedroom into my living room for six months before I could afford a Spell Contractor to come out and fix my wall."

Severus did laugh now, which astonished, yet pleased Echo that he felt relaxed enough around her to show such a vulnerable emotion. He shook his head and then apologised as the smile and laughter left his face, but not his eyes.

"I really shouldn't laugh, but the image of you, and that chair, and then the hole in your wall. You are, as you say, a menace with a wand."

Echo tossed the salad. "Hm, yes. However, I dare say, in a duel with me, you'd lose."

Severus' head shot up sharply. "Do you really think so?" his eyebrow rose archly at the challenge. "I was trained by Filius Flitwick, the unrivalled duelling champion for the last thirty seven years. He is 86 years old, and I bested him only once."

"Master Flitwick is not the World Champion, Severus. Grymalda Kane Moss is and she taught me." Echo smiled smugly.

"Tomorrow then. Ten in the morning. You are familiar with Grayson's Dueling Standards & Accepted Spells, Jinxes, & Hexes?" he asked, with a devilish smirk.

"Most certainly."

Severus rose and with a wave of his wand he sent dinner out to the dining table. As he passed Echo, she also stood. He stopped her by stepping in her path. Leaning towards her, he breathed into her ear as he spoke, "Care to make a small wager, my intriguing opponent?"

Echo was caught off guard by that illegally silken voice in her ear. She couldn't help leaning a bit closer. "What would the stakes be, sir? And remember, you are a gentleman."

He nodded and she detected a wicked gleam in his eyes. "If you win, you needn't cook for a week. You may be a woman of leisure, with no obligation whatsoever."

"I like that," Echo smiled. She then looked up at him and realised he was very close to her and those eyes were... well, they were looking at her in a manner she really ought to object to. "And the stakes should you win?"

He leaned in closer, brushed aside her hair which sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, and whispered something in her ear. When he straightened, he took one step back.

"Impertinent, Master Snape, but acceptable," Echo smiled. Maybe I ought to lose tomorrow.

"Daddy! We're waiting!" Harry stood in the kitchen doorway looking cross, and a little puzzled at the two adults who seemed to be having a smirking contest.

"We're coming, impatient child!" He snatched Harry up and slung the child over his shoulder, causing the little boy to squeal and and laugh.