Hermione woke the next morning and was shocked to feel plain pillow beneath her head. Where was he? Where was Severus? She sat up abruptly, and saw Dumbledore sitting at the end of her bed, looking rather sombre. Something was wrong. Dumbledore had lost the twinkle in his eye. Something was very wrong. hermione felt the tears forming.

"Dumbledore..." she started, but he just looked at her.

"Hermione, I am very sorry..." he said, and she knew. She let all the tears escape her, sobbing until she couldn't breathe. Dumbledore tried to comfort her, but it was useless. She was hysterical. In the end, Madam Pomfrey gave her a sleeping potion. She struggled and screamed and kicked, but soone everything went dark and she was asleep, dreamless sleep, darkness everywhere, no thoughts, no sorrow, nothing. Then she dreamed. Oh, she dreamed.

He was there, right in front of her. She reached out, her fingers grazing his robes. He smiled a little, but a tear dripped down his face. She had never seen him cry before, never display so much emotion before. He reached out his hand, but it went right through her. She didn;t understand. What was he telling her. She stepped to him, but the closer she got, the more he faded away. She cried out for him, but she knew it was no good. It was a long time before he was gone completely. She sat down on the darkness of her dream and cried into her hands, watching her tears. They were all different sizes, falling below her into oblivion. WHy didn't she fall? He was holding her... But he wasn't there...

It was a long time before she woke up. She had no tears left to cry, only a heavy stone where her heart once was.

"How?" she said. She couldn't muster up enough effort to speak properly.

"The potion he took... It was poison. He knew he would die. It was probably painless." Dumbledore explained softly. Hermione cried then, again. He knew he would die, yet did not tell her. She supposed he thought it better that way. She sighed little sighs of sorrow, her eyes sore and red, her ears making a funny rining noise, the sheer pain of it all exhausting her.

Later in the afternoon she went to his office, to take something, for herself. Anything to remind her of him. His office looked as though he may still be there, in the back room, or gone to get something from the kitchens. The fire was still lit, though goin gout. His papers were a little messed, his shelf of unusual potion ingredients still stood, even his cloak was draped on the back of his chair. She felt like crying all ove agin, but swallowed the lump in her throat. She wouldn't cry again, here, now. Not now.

She picked up the cloak from the back of the chair and held it to her face. It still smelt like him, his particular scent of ink, parchment, potions ingredients and a slight lingering smell of aftershave. She took this with her, and one other thing. A small book in the top drwer of his desk. It was blank, except the very middle page. The middle page was full of straight lines. She didn't know why, but it was nice to have mystery. She knew that this was to be hers also. Something to remind her of his orderly, strict ways. The notebook and his cloak.

She left that day, not wanting to stay in the castle anymore, not alone. On the train home she took an empty compartment and wrapped herself in his cloak, eventually falling asleep.

His smell made her dream that she was back in his arms, as she was the night before. Only the dream didn't ended with him gone, forever. She would wake eventually, but for now, all she knew was him.

A/N: I know it's a hopelessly short chapter, but it's hard to write such sad stuff. I hope i did ok, and i hope you enjoyed my first fanfic!

Purpledinosaur xxxx