Severus Snape paced in front of the fireplace in the darkness of the late night in the cottage. Harry was deep asleep in his bed. He was happy for the good he'd done this day for Echo. Severus wondered if, even though the child could not remember the past of his teenage years, the saving of Echo's life might have assuaged his wounded soul. Severus thought it might.

Albus also slept deeply. He was very tired of late and found it difficult to move very far. His expenditure of magic in creating Echo's room had taken an alarming amount of energy from the old wizard and had also caused a painful flare-up of the insidious curse that was debilitating him each day. Severus had sat for awhile on the edge of Albus' bed supporting the elder man's upper half as he weathered through some of the worst of the painful cramps. Even a simple pain potion was made useless by the curse. Severus' upper arm, where Albus had gripped tightly during the worst of the pain, was now bruised. He had yet to put any Bruise Salve on them.

He hated bothering Arthur Weasley at such a late hour with correspondence, but seeing Albus in such pain- the man wept in my arms!- was killing him. He knew Albus wanted him to wait for the special dispensation which would keep Severus free from legal harassment and out of Azkaban, but the Potions Master was feeling helpless. He didn't think he could wait. Severus wasn't ready to let Albus- my father- go.

Severus settled into one of the chairs and stretched out his long legs, crossing his ankles.

Echo Prosper.

He honestly didn't know what to think of this woman. In such a short time the young woman had... well, not turned his life upside down, but she'd certainly affected him. He recalled her body against his as she'd hugged him when they were on the beach. She... fit. She felt right. Her warmth was something, even hours later, he still missed. The little conversation he'd had with Harry the night before they left for the cottage certainly didn't help the thoughts that insinuated themselves in his mind about the lovely young woman.

"Harry, what are you doing still awake? You know we have a busy day tomorrow." Severus was wrapping up some school work at his sitting room desk when Harry padded out in his flannel pyjamas. For a moment he was worried the child had another dream of the Dark Lord killing his mother, Lily.

Harry went over to his father and leaned against his thigh, with his elbow propped up on the upper part of the man's thigh. Severus brushed some wayward strands of the boy's dark hair out of his eyes revealing the slowly fading lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Daddy, will I be able to have a brother or sister someday like Ron has?" Harry had taken his father's hand in his own and was idly tracing the fingers as though the hand was the most fascinating thing on earth.

Severus swallowed nervously. Why was his son even thinking about such a thing? Was he lonely? He sighed heavily. What was he to say? He'd never thought he'd have a son, and he certainly never thought he'd be free of the Dark so that he could pursue a future with a wife and children.

Picking up his son, he propped Harry on his lap. "Are you sure you'd want to share me with a brother or sister, Harry?" Good delaying tactic, Snape.

"I could," he said carefully. "I think it would be neat to be a big brother."

"I think you'd be an excellent big brother, but that isn't an easy thing, Harry." This is not going to turn into a talk on the birds and bees. He's far too young, isn't he?

"I asked Ron and Ron said you can get babies from St. Mungo's."

It took every ounce of his control to keep from choking. The last thing my son needs is sex education from that redheaded twit! Severus didn't think he'd ever known his mind to work so fast in providing him answers to his son's questions.

"It's quite a bit more complicated than that, child..." Should I say something about the birds and the bees? Merlin's teeth, what do I say?

"I told Ron I probably need a mother first. Piers Polkiss' little sister didn't show up until his mum got bignant. That's really fat in the stomach."

Snape smirked and tried desperately not to laugh since Harry was being so very serious. "I believe the word is pregnant, Harry."

Harry frowned. "Are you sure? Bignant sounds better."

"I'm quite certain." He shifted Harry on his lap. The child was gaining weight, but he was still thin and he had rather sharp hip bones. "I think someday you might be able to be a big brother, but it might be best if you have a mother, first."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Okay." He began playing with the buttons on his father's frock coat. Snape could tell he was thinking something over and wasn't sure he should say what was on his mind.

Tipping up the boy's chin, he looked into the child's solemn, green eyes. "What are you thinking of, Harry?"

"Well," he began hesitantly, "Everyone I know that has a mother, their mother is married to their father, so... I suppose... is there someone you want to marry who'd like to be my mother?"

"Oh, Harry, I wish there was, but I don't know of anyone I'd like to marry." Harry, disappointed, leaned his cheek against his father's chest and plucked at the cloth-covered buttons. "However, I promise you this, son, when I do find the right lady to marry, she must want to be your mother or I won't even think of marrying her."

"Really? A promise?" Harry asked looking up earnestly into his father's face.

"A promise. But, you have to promise me something, Harry."

"What, daddy?"

"Let me find someone to marry. I don't want you trying to marry me off to the first lady you think would be a good mother."

"So He'mione's out?"

Now Severus did choke and cough. "Harry! Not only is Miss Granger a student of mine, she's only sixteen years old! I would much rather marry a young woman closer to my own age."

"What is your age?"

"I am 36 years old. And don't you dare ask any ladies their ages," he warned with a mock scowl. "It's impolite." He picked his son off his lap. "It's time for you to get back to bed, Harry."

"Okay." He yawned and Severus rose from his desk. Taking his son's hand in his, he walked him into his bedroom and soon had him tucked him. Harry was very quickly asleep, and Severus was thankfully released from any further awkward conversation.

Severus rose from his chair and put out the fire in the fireplace. As the flames vanished, he couldn't help the traitorous thought that went through his brain- I wonder what age Miss Prosper is.