Echo's injuries were healing, but Severus was still worried about the young woman. Twice that afternoon while he was busy brewing Echo had shouted herself awake from a nightmare. The first time she'd shouted for Harry.

Harry was supposed to have been working on his morning lessons but had gotten bored and so was reading Rikki-Tikki-Tavi to Hector. He ran to see if Echo needed him and was caught off guard when, crying, she pulled him into a rather tight hug. He struggled loose and then shouted for his father.

Severus tried to talk to Echo then, but she only turned away from him. He left her a phial of Dreamless Sleep Potion, but she refused to take it which resulted in a second nightmare that had her screaming for Severus.

He endured a painfully tight hug, and then disengaged himself gently. "Why won't you take the Dreamless Sleep Potion, Echo?"

"Stupidity?" she smiled wanly.

"So it would appear," he smirked grimly, giving her a narrow eyed glance. "What's wrong?"

"Are you always that perceptive?" she asked a little too sharply.

"Where you're concerned, my senses have been somewhat sharpened in that respect." Severus took her hand in his. It was much more faded, but the red spark of the Old Magic that had been evoked still pulsed as they touched.

"Harry said I glowed," she studied the curious glow and was fascinated by it's heartbeat like pulse.

"We both did. Somehow..." he paused unsure of how to explain something that was as mysterious to him as it was to Echo. Echo did not interrupt but waited patiently. "Old Magic. It seems... that in coming to your rescue I declared myself, formally, your Protector. We are, it appears, connected. I am able to sense your presence."

"You sound embarrassed, Severus," Echo observed.

"Not at all," he asserted seriously. "I am wary of this connection. Not that I object to it, but you had no say in the matter and since I don't know how long this might last, I dislike that you might be..."

She interrupted with disappointment, "Connected to you?"

"Unwillingly," he interjected. To be truthful, being connected to Echo wasn't such an unpleasant thought. However, having been unwillingly connected to something by magic that had a less than desirable influence on his life (Voldemort) was once in awhile the stuff of nightmares.

Echo gripped his hand tightly to emphasize the spark of magic. "I may not have had a choice, Severus, but whether you've realised it or not, I've felt connected to you since our first kiss. That, Master Snape, is a much more powerful magic than this... questionable... Old Magic." Her eyes sparkled and she smiled.

"I believe you may be onto something, Miss Prosper." There was a distinct glint of mirth in Severus' eyes and a slight curl to one side of his mouth.

"Will you tell me what happened to Oland?" she asked warily.

"Are you sure you wish to know now?" he inquired archly, feeling the warmth of Echo's nearness vanish as she withdrew her hand from his.

"He keeps coming for me in my nightmares, Severus. I need to know that he can no longer touch me." Echo glanced over at the Dreamless Sleep Potion. "I'd really like not to take that."

Severus hesitated, but replied, "His identity was confirmed almost immediately. He was then taken to Azkaban to receive the Dementor's Kiss."

"Did he suffer?" she asked sharply.

He frowned darkly. "Everyone who comes near a Dementor suffers, Echo. Do you really wish to know the details of his death? You once loved him."

Although the rebuke was gentle, Echo felt like she had been slapped. She pulled away and out of her bed, standing like a Fury on the other side, her anger and anguish plain on her face. "What love I once had for that... creature, was long since erased by my last year of marriage to him!" She looked up and tears were falling onto her cheeks. "I didn't walk out into the ocean because my heart was broken. I wanted to die so I didn't have to think of the things I remembered he did to me, and to have my dreams haunted by things I could never remember!"

Feeling isolated by that confession, Echo sat back down on the bed, and tentatively moved closer to Severus. She felt a sense of him, even though he was mere inches from her, that was like a whisper. He understands, her thoughts sensed from him. She then slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. The steady beat of his heart was soothing. "Please forgive me, but I can't help wishing that he was afraid... that he suffered at least half of what he put me through. What he put those other women through."

Severus put one arm protectively around Echo while his other hand gently cupped her head. He stared out the window as he spoke solemnly, "Moody told us that Oland was fighting and screaming as they drew up to the island of Azkaban. He fought the Binding Spell, but was unable to break it. The moment he came within sight of the Dementors he became silent. To be in the presence of Dementors is like standing in a waterfall of ice. Anything that ever gave you joy in life is ripped away, leaving you to experience your sins... from the point of view of those you wronged. The Dementor's Kiss is death, but it is the painful destruction of one's soul. It feels as though you're trapped in a nightmare. Rarely it will take two Dementors to destroy a particularly black soul. Oland Childermass' soul fed three Dementors."

Echo's shoulders began to tremble and he could feel her tears soaking through his frock coat. Severus just held her close, stroking her hair and her back as she wept silently. He didn't know if she cried for Oland, or for herself. Either way, he understood her pain. He began rocking her gently, never realising that he was softly singing the lullaby he would sing to Harry when his nightmares threatened his sleep.

Severus drew the bedroom door almost closed and prepared to return to his lab when he stopped. He peered into the living room and spied Harry sitting by the fireplace in his chair.

"Harry, did you finish your sums, yet?" he asked, his arms crossed casually over his chest.

Harry's head shot up and he tried to stuff his book out of sight. "Sort of?"

Severus smirked and sighed. "As I thought. Bring your work to the lab where I can keep an eye on you."

"C'mon, Hector," Harry sighed in defeat as he walked over to his desk.

"Put Hector outside, Harry," his father ordered over his shoulder. "You can't keep him inside all day."

Harry had finished his lessons and was now helping his father to prepare ingredients for a Scar Reducing Salve. He had to squeeze the thin, jelly like Aloe from Yucca leaves. It wasn't easy and he felt like he was making more of a mess than getting the needed ingredient.

"This would be... a lot easier... if I had one of those old-fashioned rolling washing things," he grumbled as he shot the leaf he'd been squeezing off his work table by accident.

"What is a rolling, washing thing?" asked Severus with a bemused smirk on his face as he watched Harry trying to squeeze the leaf he'd just retrieved.

"I saw one on a Western on TV once before Aunt Petunia caught me. I think it was for washing clothes. The lady took the wet clothes and stuffed them between two rollers that squeezed out water. If you had one of those, maybe smaller for potions making, you could squeeze out Aloe gel, Bubotuber Pus, and flatten Flobberworms." He laughed to himself. "That would be kind of neat flattening long Flobberworms like that."

"Do you mean something like this?" Severus flicked his wand and a small, table-top sized contraption consisting of a crank and two rollers appeared at Harry's elbow.

"Yeah!" Harry studied the little machine.

"It's called a Wringer," informed Severus.

"How come you don't use it? It would be a lot easier then using your fingers." Harry wanted to use the Wringer, but he had a feeling that there was a reason his father chose the hard way to do the extracting.

"It is a preference. I'd rather do what I am able by hand. For me, that is where the magic in brewing begins," Severus explained simply.

"I thought you said the magic begins in gathering and harvesting ingredients..."

"And in growing. The magic is always there, Harry. It doesn't just simply start and stop according to what you're doing. I feel that more of myself, more of my own magic, is a part of my potions when I am able to do as much as I can by hand."

Harry stared longingly at the Wringer which would make this messy business so much easier. He then turned and watched as his father's elegant and skilled fingers picked up an Aloe leaf, deftly stripped the fibers, and then he held one end of the leaf to the table while perfectly running his thumb firmly down the leaf several times until the Aloe was perfectly extracted.

Pushing aside the Wringer, Harry took a new leaf, stripped away the fibers and as he concentrated on extracting the Aloe juice. To his frustration, the moment the first bit of slimy juice seeped out the leaf went flying off the table and he only had a yucky mess left.

"Dad? Please help."

Severus dried his hands and went over to Harry's worktable. He vanished the mess and then took out a new Aloe leaf.

"The fibers of the Aloe leaf are the thread that holds the spongy material of the leaf together. You start here and strip the fibers down... slowly at first." He watched as Harry took the leaf, picked at the edge of the fibers, grimaced at the sticky Aloe that threatened to make this a mess again, and then drew the fibrous threads away from the leaf.

"Very good. Now, put the fibers into the saltwater. Do you remember what those will be used for later?"

Harry automatically answered, "For Surgical Binding Paste."

"Good boy. Now, dry your hands first. This will give you a bit of friction that will allow you to hold onto the leaf better." Harry grabbed his nearby work cloth and scrubbed his hands against the nubbly texture. "Grasp the narrow tip between your thumb and forefinger. Since your hands are small, use the edge of your fist... that's it, child. Press down and then slide..." Harry's fist slid slowly and carefully down the length of the leaf and the Aloe pooled neatly at the end. "Perfect. Just collect the juice and try another leaf.

Severus watched as his son collected the juice from the first leaf and placed it in a waiting, amber bowl. Since Harry couldn't perform magic, he cleaned the work table quickly with his cloth. He picked out a new leaf, stripped the fibers from the edges, and then dried his hands before extracting a perfect pooling of the clear, gelatinous juice.

Harry smiled brightly at his accomplishment.

"How would you like to hunt for the Melancton Flower with me?"

"Really?" Harry grinned his pleasure at being asked. "When would we go?"

"The flower begins blooming the first of August, so right after your birthday."

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy. That's going to be fun!"

"Good. That's settled. Now, let's get this potion started. I'll be able to give Echo the other potion in a few minutes and no doubt she'll be hungry for dinner by then."

"I'll be hungry, too!" affirmed Harry.

After dinner, Severus brought the potion, paste, and something extra that he'd been working on that afternoon to Echo's room. He knocked lightly upon her door and she opened it just as she was tying the belt on her dressing gown.

Echo seemed frail, as though she might break if she were startled. She'd been quiet at dinner, only speaking if she'd been asked a question. She seated herself in her chair that was by the fireplace.

"What does this Cruciatus Relief Potion do?" she asked, interested despite a strong desire to bury herself in the softness of her bed.

"It will relieve the tremors you've been experiencing, repair the damage done to the nerve endings, and help to ease the cramps that are an after effect of the Curse."

"Those are awful! It feels like the worst mens... ah uhm..." Echo's demure posture of blushing cast her gaze down at her slippers.

Severus chuckled softly. "Yes. I have been told by other female sufferers that it is just like that." He handed her a small phial.

Echo grimaced at the taste of the Cruciatus Relief Potion. "Bleh! That tastes like an elf's dirty socks!"

Severus eyebrow rose in amusement. "Something you've tasted before?"

"Ha ha, Potions Master Snape," she glowered.

He handed her a large, flat jar. Echo opened it to find an amber coloured paste within. It had a soft scent of Aloe and Lavender. He then handed her a large box. She opened that to find it full of what appeared to be confetti of pastels and rich colours.

"The first is the Scar Reducing Paste that Harry helped me with. You massage it into your scars right before bedtime. It should fade most of them. It may only lighten the large one. If you wish, I could help apply that to the scars on your back?"

Echo nodded. "If you would, please?" She then held up the box. "This smells divine. Like the first day of spring. What is it for?"

"A Healing Flower Bath. Sprinkle about two handfuls into your bathwater and soak until they dissolve. It will help to heal the scars that cannot be seen," he spoke enigmatically. "If you need more, I can create it easily enough for you."

"Ohhh, this will be wonderful! I've read about Flower Essence Baths but I wasn't aware of anyone, other than Muggles, that practice it anymore."

"Muggles seem to think that picking flowers at certain auspicious times creates a magical, healing energy. It is quite a bit more than that. The Magic of Flowers is one of the arts of Potions that is hardly taught anymore. Only a few Potions Masters will teach it to their apprentices. It is an art my mother passed onto me," he spoke quietly. "It is an Art of Healing that is... beautiful."

Echo smiled softly. "Your voice is magical, Severus." He coloured lightly and looked away. "Oh please! Someone must have told you how lovely your voice is to hear?" He did not reply. "I've no doubt that it's one of the tools that keeps the attention of your students."

"Indeed. If only it were that simple." He made his way to the door, paused, and then spoke over his shoulder. "If you wish for help with the paste on your back, just call me. I'll be reading to Harry in the living room for about an hour."

"Thank you, Severus." She had risen from her chair and caught him by his forearm. Tugging him lightly, he bent down a little and she kissed his cheek. Echo then nudged him out of her room and closed the door.

In the small hallway, the tall wizard stood for a moment. He then smiled, rather smugly. "A lovely voice, indeed." He chuckled and went into the living room where his son waited for his bedtime story.