A/N: Here is my first attempt at Snape's POV. Let me know what you think :)

There were many things that Severus Snape was sure of in this world. He was sure that the quality of a mind was not determined by one's blood status or circumstance of birth. He was sure that although the fool prevailed in popularity, sheer knowledge and strength of character is what it took to survive the Dark Lord. He was sure that blind loyalty was fatal in all circumstances. And he was sure that no woman could surpass the gloriousness of Lily Evans.

But as the potions master sat in his dungeon study, chewing over his recent conversation with Tonks (a bloody fool as any), he realized for the first time in his life he was not sure on how he felt about Eliza Slope and what she was doing at Hogwarts. Although he never bothered to learn her family background, he had a strong suspicion that she was a pure-blood. Through Tonks he learned that she was a former Slytherin (giving Eliza another point in his mind), so it was unlikely that she did not come from a magical family. Based upon their previous conversations and her employment as a healer, a teacher, and now a scientist, Snape deduced that she was not a fool. Eliza Slope was a very intelligent woman and her shrewdness would get her much further in this war than wanton bravery.

Another tidbit of information that he was able needle out of Tonks following the last Order meeting was that Eliza had refused to join the Order, not once but twice. Being an Order member himself, Snape could easily see why she wanted no part of it. While others berated the woman for being selfish, Snape was silently applauding her for standing up for herself. It wasn't as though she was not contributing to the cause – arguably she was doing more because she was using her talents to make a difference rather than preparing herself for awkward combat. Operating as a lone wolf, so to speak, was commendable in Snape's opinion and it garnered his respect for her.

Considering the number of qualities that Eliza possessed making her a valuable human being in Snape's eyes, there was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way. She was stubborn, rude, defiant, and prideful. She spied on him through his own windows and meddled in his affairs – granted she was saving his life, but that was beside the point. She refused the help that he was offering, which was something rare in itself. All in all, Snape's deep respect for the woman prevented him from speaking to her as though she was one of the usual idiots he dealt with on a daily basis, but he did not like her one bit.

But that evening, as he sat at his desk pouring over the last encounter that happened over a week ago, the fire burning low from neglect and stacks of ungraded essays sitting forgotten on his desk, Snape felt sick when another revelation about Eliza Slope surfaced. It wasn't directly about Eliza, but rather it was about Lily and how he had not thought of her in nearly a week. How his dreams were about nonsensical rubbish, but sadly free of the red-haired witch. How he couldn't forget the shiver he felt every time he touched Eliza. But most of all, the thing that troubled him the most was that when he tried to conjure Lily's image, his mind replaced her emerald eyes with Eliza's alluring pale green eyes

Scowling at another failed attempt at remembering Lily with perfect clarity, Snape stood from his desk, hissing as his joints cracked and soreness crept through his muscles. Lately the potions master had been spending quite a bit of time thinking about his age and how it was advancing much faster than he would have preferred. Of course he was aware that people aged and that he was no exception, but ever since he began feeling so weary it occurred to him that he had missed out on a lot of life opportunities. Although it would shock most who knew the cranky professor, he actually craved those normal life events. He wanted a wife and a house with a fence. Believe it or not, he wanted a child. Those dreams disappeared the night Lily died, but for some disturbing reason those dreams were surfacing once again.

Glancing at the clock on the mantle, Snape decided roaming the halls would be a good way to vent some of his frustration. Although most of his nighty rounds were spent protecting the students from Dolores Umbridge, Snape still had the satisfaction of dishing out detention and taking house points. Sweeping out the door, Snape plodded along the corridors to the astronomy tower – a popular spot for hormonal 6th and 7th years. With practiced stealth, the professor was able apprehend three couples and one very confused third year out of bed. He was on a roll and could feel his tension leaving with each ominous threat and removal of house points. He was downright giddy when he heard Umbridge's grating snore as he passed by her office door. The night was looking up.

Slipping into the Great Hall, Snape decided to take a moment to gaze upon the starry sky and marvel at the sheer skill that went into creating that marvelous feeling. Whenever the professor found himself feeling overconfident in his own abilities (which was extremely rare), he turned to the Great Hall ceiling to be humbled by the magic he could never achieve.

As he walked slowly into the Great Hall, eyes facing upwards, he was quite surprised to hear a quiet "Good evening, Severus."

Across the hall stood Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his silver robes and matching nightcap. The Headmaster did not remove his eyes from the ceiling, but continued to study Aquarius as the constellation twinkled above him.

"Found a new hobby, Professor?" sneered Snape. There was no reason for him to be so rude to the Headmaster, but he was annoyed that his improved evening would be tarnished by Dumbledore's meddling conversation.

Dumbledore smiled, knowing right away why Snape was peeved, but chose not to reveal that knowledge. "Why is it Severus that we continually traverse to Great Hall seeking the stars when there are more exits from this castle than one could count?"

Snape raised a quizzical eyebrow. "The Great Hall is conveniently located and is much warmer than the great outdoors," he answered. He knew that this was not the direction that Dumbledore was heading, but the old man's philosophy was more than Snape's temperament could stand on most occasions.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and appeared to ponder Snape's response. "Perhaps you are right about the convenience, but I do not believe that it is the weather we choose to hide from. " Not receiving a retort from the potions master, Dumbledore decided to continue with his thoughts. "As wizards it is easy for us to become enamored with the wonder of magic. We continually seek to gain power and find comfort in our skills. Sometimes we need to look outside of our comfort and find solace in the wonder of nature and in the people around us."

With that said, the Headmaster bid Snape goodnight and left him alone in the Great Hall to wonder what had just transpired. Shaking his head, Snape flapped out of the Great Hall and made his way back to his quarters. It was getting late and he knew that the next day would be much more eventful than preferred with a trip to Hogsmeade followed by an Order meeting that evening. With any luck, thought Snape as he swiftly disrobed for bed, between the headache of sugar laden buffoons returning from Hogsmeade and the onslaught of insults that poured out of Sirius Black's mouth every time they met, Eliza slope would probably take it upon herself to come asking for help and to "pick his brain.'' All he could think, as he settled into his lonely bed, is that her request had better be worth his time.