Where Words Fail

Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! I am SO excited to start this story with you... I've been wanting to do a Snamione fic for so long, and now it's finally happening! Expect a slow burner... Like, VERY slow. But bear with me, you're in for a good one!

In a way, me writing as Snape is sort of like a writing exercise for me. He has such a unique personality that I think a lot of authors have a hard time capturing, so I honestly hope I do it justice (when the time comes, no Snape this chapter, sorry).

Please give me reviews! They're what give me the courage and initiative to keep writing, and I take my reviews to heart! If you love something, tell me, and I'll put more of it in the story. If you hate something, tell me, and I won't. If you have suggestions, tell me, and you may very well get what you wish!

***IMPORTANT*** This fic may end up being very musically influenced. I will reference certain songs and pieces that certain characters are playing... If you're interested, I can give you guys the names of the specific pieces I reference and you can listen along. Like, for example, in this chapter, Hermione plays a Schummann piece called Of Foreign Lands and People. Let me know if you guys want to know other songs further along in the story!

Without further review, let the story begin. :)

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to remain silent."

Victor Hugo

"Come on, little dove," Her father half admonished while laughing,

"Yes, Papa," A young Hermione Granger giggled, once again settling down on the bench. Hermione treasured these moments more than any others, those she got to spend making music with her father.

Daniel Granger was a master of the piano all throughout his youth, and dreamt of doing it professionally, before he was steered in the direction of dentistry by his peers. He knew what joy it was to bend melodies to his will, to sway emotions with a simple pressing of ivory keys. As a result, his heart nearly stopped with joy and pride the day he found his little Hermy at the Perzina in their living room, poking curiously at the keys.

At 6 years of age, Hermione Granger, too, had developed a love and passion for the art of music, and it was an art that she quickly found that she excelled in. To her young mind, the piano was almost synonymous with the cold winter nights spent in front of the fire, listening to the calming melodies flowing from the fingertips of her father, those hours spent sitting at his side trying to shake herself from the clutches of sleep, lest she miss one note that might be played while she slept.

Now, at age 9, she smiled in contempt playing the F major scale with finesse under her father's proud gaze.

Hermione's mother stood at the door, gazing lovingly at the scene in front of her, a father and daughter bonding over their mutual adoration for music. Her father, noticing her presence, turned to Hermione with a smile asking, "Now, love, what are you going to play for us tonight?"

"Hmm..." Hermione had a wide range of songs that she loved to play for both of her parents; the question always came down to which one to play. Contemplating thoroughly, her eyes flashed as she thought of a song.

She searched through her well-worn music folder until she found the piece that came to her mind.

As her father joined her mother and wrapped a loving arm around her waist, the two parents gazed proudly at their daughter as she began to play her favorite Schummann piece.

Not one year later, Hermione sat at that same bench, tears falling upon the untouched keys. Her mother stood alone at the door frame once more, a sympathetic and mutual welling in her eyes as she said, "Come on, darling, it's time to go." Holding out her hand to take hold of her daughter's, they entered the black car waiting outside of their house.

It was a simple service, for Daniel Granger was a simple man. A handful of his most trusted friends and family were there, all mourning the life of the man with such a large heart, who's heart had been his very undoing.

He had a valve which hadn't been working properly, which in turn caused a heart attack. The attack then led to a coma, one with which Daniel Granger never woke up from. The death was so sudden, so completely unexpected, which somehow made the whole situation all the more tragic.

Hermione continued to play the piano after they had returned from the funeral, but something had changed in her that day.

As any composer or musician could tell you, a happy song could still be played in such a way that the listener could hear the pain that lies beneath. And that is exactly what happened to Hermione's once happy songs. There was a certain hollowness, an emptiness behind the notes that communicated exactly how broken she felt without her even trying.

Hermione had never been well liked by her peers in elementary school. There was always something for the children to tease her over, whether it be her strange name, the poofy hair, her bookworm-ish tendencies or her two buck teeth, there was always something. Her sneaking off to the music room during recesses and lunches certainly didn't help her classmates' opinions of her, either.

The teasing and mocking at school had already become a part of everyday life by the time her father died, but until that point, she had never cared. But now, without her father there to reassure her... she felt hopelessly alone.

Several days after her 11th birthday, one of the children had taken it too far. Hermione had been in a hurry walking down the hall that led to the music room, arms full of sheet music, when a girl several years her senior purposely rammed into her shoulder as she walked past. Her sheet music went flying, and Hermione instantly went to the floor to try and regain some order amongst the stray papers.

But her bully wasn't finished. The older girl turned around to her, and said with a scowl, "Just what makes you think you're so much better than everyone else, Granger?"

Hermione did as she was always told to do and ignored her, until she spoke once more. "You think you're so special, playing your music as if you had any real talent..." Hermione's blood began to boil, and the redness of her cheeks gave her away to her bully.

"Ooh? Finally got a rise out of you, eh?" The other girl paused, a malicious smirk coming to her features. "What are you going to do, tell your precious daddy on me?"

Something that had been building inside Hermione for years finally snapped. Her instincts took control, and the other girl was sent flying back into the wall behind her with a wave of energy that she didn't know she possessed. Both girls stood there in shock for several moments before the bully shook her head frantically and ran off, shouting, "You're such a freak!" Hermione was mortified.

Did I... Did I do that? She thought. That's impossible...

But the impossible became possible the very next day, when Albus Dumbledore had rung the doorbell at 32a North Street and began to ask questions.

"Have you ever had things you couldn't explain happen around you? Strange occurrences, things that normal people cannot replicate?" Hermione nodded slowly, and her mother placed a warm hand on her knee before addressing the older man. "Another girl was teasing her just yesterday, and Hermione tells me that she flew backwards like a wind came in... The school tried to tell me it was a fist fight, but I know Hermione would have never done such a thing. She would never hurt a fly." Albus took this information in, choosing his next words very carefully before turning to and addressing Hermione.

"I run a school. A school for very special children like you, Hermione, who possess talents that very few children possess." Mrs. Granger looked skeptical. "What special talents are you referring to, Mr. Dumbledore?

"Magic."