A/N: Hey Guys! Hi everyone!

Just to let you know, the bold writing is me, tv-chick-jess, talking, and the normal writing is me, Jellyjay, talking.

This song is by a Kiwi band called Goodnight Nurse. We are HUGE fans of them because they could be one of the best Kiwi bands in existence, hey, 48May are cool too you know. Yeah, them too, any way, this songfic was written by me,(the more experienced writer, no offence Jess). None taken Jelly

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Neither one of us owns anything to do with Harry Potter aside from the books. We don't own the song either.

Our Song

The school was empty. The iron gates, the ones flanked with the winged boars, were open, swinging eerily on their hinges, but the school was empty.

Hogwarts had closed earlier that year because of the events of the previous year, but Harry could not help but visit the castle that had been like home for six years for possibly the last time. So here he was, standing alone in the Headmaster's Office. The Office had been emptied when the school had closed, and only one empty picture frame was left on the wall.

A picture frame,
Hangs on the wall,
And I'm surprised I even noticed it at all,
The years have warped the frame,
A crack runs through the pain,
And it's begun to fade but the picture's still the same,
If you look close enough,
You'll know…

To think the one and only Dumbledore had lived here until the previous year. Everyone thought differently of him, but to Harry, he was…similar to a grandfather. Not like a father, no, Sirius had occupied that place, Dumbledore was like grandfather. One that had always been there for him, one that had taught him so much…

Yes, Dumbledore was very much like a grandfather.

Sing me your song,
I'll sing my song,
You have to go,
You know you're my hero,
Time keeps marching on,
This is our song.

He looked around the Office wallowing in the memories of the time he had spent here—in his second year, when Professor Mcgonagall had taken him here, when he had first met Fawkes, the Pheonix. He couldn't help but smile grimly at that memory, when Fawkes had burst into flames.

"About time," Dumbledore had said. "He's been looking dreadful for days,"

In his fourth year, he had come here to tell Dumbledore how his scar had hurt during Divination. That was the time he accidentally stumbled upon the Pensieve. He remembered sitting through Dumbledore's memories of those trials.

Then there was his fifth year, the time after Sirius had died. He had destroyed some of Dumbledore strange contraptions out of anger. The old man didn't seem to mind—he'd said he had too many things anyway. Dumbledore had told him everything then.

After that there was the previous year. The number of times Harry had entered this Office that year, watching Voldemort's past unfold before him, learning about Horcruxes…

And now I stare,
At an empty room,
But memories give my soul a different view,
Of all the lives you've touched,
You've taught me so much,
Now angels lift you up
To a place you loved so much,
And you'll be welcome there,
I know…

In each one of those visits, the Office was the same. There were the same spindly legged contraptions, the same portraits, the same warm feeling, but now…now it was empty and cold. There was no more Dumbledore, and no more Fawkes.

Sing me your song,
I'll sing my song,
You have to go,
You know you're my hero,
Time keeps marching on,
This is our song.

This isour sad good bye (this is our sad goodbye,)
But it's not their good bye

This room made him feel…nice when Dumbledore had lived here, now it just made him depressed. He hated himself for not being able to stop Snape from killing Dumbledore…but really, he hated Snape more.

Harry couldn't help but realise that any one he'd thought of as a father figure had been taken away from him—his real dad, Sirius, and then Dumbledore. Who next? Mr Weasley?

Lord, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. He'd always had a fear of losing someone he loved dearly. Now that four loved ones were gone, it scared him to think about who would be next.

Well I don't know,
What I believe,
All I know is that there's more to it than me,
It's time for you to go,
To say good bye,
I know,
I cross my T's real slow,
I close my eyes,
If you look close enough you'll know,

Sing me your song,
I'll sing my song,
You have to go,
You know you're my hero,
Time keeps marching on,
This is our song.

"Harry?"

Harry felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. It probably belonged to Hermione.

"Harry, it's time to go," she said.

"Come on, mate," said Ron. "Let's go,"

Harry sighed and nodded. "Right," he said gloomily.

He turned around and led the other two out of the room, but as he did, one more memory came zooming back to him…

"He'll never be gone! Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!"

Good luck Harry…

Harry felt himself smile. He was right; Dumbledore would never be gone as long as those who remain are loyal to him.

This is our sad good bye (this is our sad good bye)
But it's not their good bye
This is our sad good bye (this is our sad good bye)
But it's not their good bye…

A/N: There you go, I feel depressed now. Never again will I be able to listen to Goodnight Nurse without bursting into tears…(sniff). Jeez Janelle, toughen up, you can still listen to this song without crying. If I can, then you can. Well of course you can! You didn't write this! I did!

R'n'R

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