Author's Note: This drabble was my first ever, written in response to the "dead" challenge at GrangerSnape100 on livejournal. I'm not JK Rowling, and I only make money from these in my wildest fantasies.
Hermione sank to her knees on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, tears pouring silently down her face. Without warning, Snape's eyes locked onto hers, and images began to flash across her mind, like a film: Snape, complaining that her mind shouldn't be wasted in Gryffindor; a grin as she successfully passed her OWLs; petitioning for her appointment as Head Girl; demanding that Phineas Nigellus find out whether "the girl" was unharmed.
His eyes returned to Harry's. Hermione gasped with understanding: in death, Snape showed her all the pride and admiration he had not been able to show in life.