Where Words Fail

Chapter 4

Ha-ha... talk about a hiatus, right? Remember how last chapter I talked about how life waits for no one? That happened, again. But I'm back! I can't guarantee an every-week update, but I'll do what I can, since I'm actually quite excited about the prompt and about where it will go.

Since it's been almost a year since updating, can you do me a favor and comment and let me know you're still reading? I would greatly appreciate that. And of course, let me know how you like what's happening here! Things get a lil crazy in this chapter!

ALSO, HEADS UP. IMPORTANT. The early parts of this story are going to be going through the main points in the books, and then derailing majorly from canon once we get around Deathly-Hallows-ish. Is that alright? It better be, cuz I'm not changing it! 

Thank you guys for being patient. I hope this long(er) chapter at least partially makes up for the ungodly long break. COMMENT, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, COMMENT.

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Hermione was glad that she had now devoted a portion of her dinner period to head to the Room of Requirement, and felt particularly lucky that the room was always there,  seemingly waiting for her.

Tonight, however, Professor Quirrell had burst through the doors during dinner, shouting of a troll in the dungeon. Almost immediately, Ron and Harry had ditched her to go check on the excitement, but Hermione considered herself far wiser than that, and opted to hide in the Room of Requirement.

Like every other night, only a little bit ahead of schedule, she pondered. Entering the warm confines of the room, she enlarged the piano, yet again, and went to choose a book of sheet music in the shelves surrounding her.

She had begun to really hone in on the feelings the room invoked in her... and had finally understood what the text had said about this room being sentient. Every time she entered the seclusion of the Room of Requirement, there was an unspoken warmth that always awaited her. Like a welcome, of sorts. Now, this sentience seemed to be picking up in severity, as a music book seemed to "fall" from the shelf, immediately into her line of sight. She walked over, overcome with curiosity.

Reading the words upon it's cover, she couldn't help the smile that graced her lips. It was a complete works of one of her favorite composers, which made her all the more fascinated at the Room's knowledge of it being so.

"If I must," she sighed sarcastically, rolling her eyes despite how excited she was. She knew immediately which piece to play.

Sinking into the piano bench provided, she arranged the sheets in their proper order. Resting her fingertips among the cool, smooth keys, she began to play.

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Snape POV, Girl's Restroom

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Imagine my great irritation at hearing there was now a 20 something foot beast, rampaging through the castle.

Now, imagine my ADDITIONAL aggravation at being unable to catch up with misters Weasley and Potter, who just had to "sneak a peak". Idiots, the lot of them.

It did, however, strike me as odd that the female component of their trio was nowhere in sight. Good for her. At least she doesn't seem to have a death wish, quite yet.

Upon dashing to what we believed to be the location of the Troll, ('believed' may not be the right word. The stomping was a dead givaway) Minerva and Albus were at my side immediately, and stood attentive as I pushed open the (now shattered) wooden door. The site that met my eyes made my skin crawl.