Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the song used - 'Bluebird' by Sara Bareilles. The characters' are J.K. Rowlings and the song is Sara Bareilles'. Please don't sue me.
Word came through in a letter,
One of us changing our minds.
Hermione Granger did not consider herself a fool, normally, but the letter in her hands made her second guess every decision, every action she took up until now.
You won't need to guess who since I usually do
Not send letters to me that are mine.
The person she loved wrote her today.
I told him I saw this coming,
That I'd practically packed up my things.
Hermione felt it in her bones - the moment their relationship started - that Minerva would never accept what she felt for Hermione. She knew that Minerva felt that it was too foreign, too morally questionable for her to cavort with a former student - a female former student, nonetheless.
I was glad at the time that I said I was fine,
But all honesty knows I wasn't ready, no.
Though Hermione knew all of this to be true in her heart, it did not make it any easier for her to leave.
And so here we go, bluebird
Back to the sky on your own.
She packed her bags while Minerva was at Hogwarts, leaving the keys to the apartment they shared on the little key peg - the key peg Minerva had transfigured and affixed to the wall in the foyer. Minerva had thought it impractical to use keys when they could simply ward the door, but Hermione insisted on using a key in addition to wards - harkening to her upbringing
Oh, let him go, bluebird.
Ready to fly, you and I,
Here we go.
Here we go.
Hermione sighed briefly at the memory before checking the apartment one last time for any belongings that were hers, not theirs.
This pair of wing's worn and rusted,
Too many years by my side.
They can carry me, swear to be sturdy and strong.
But see, turning them on still means goodbye.
And so here we go, bluebird.
Gather your strength and rise up.
Oh, let him go, bluebird.
Oh, let him go, bluebird.
She turned to the door, suitcases shrunken and stowed in her pocket, and locked it with a flourish of her wand.
Oh, let him go, bluebird.
Ready to fly, you and I,
Here we go.
Here we go.
Here we go.
The offending letter was left on the kitchen counter, a testament to a life built carefully in a year - a life callously destroyed in mere minutes. But Hermione would not dwell on her wasted time, her wasted heart: she would take her feelings elsewhere and live her life - with or without Minerva.
