Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter and the canon characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am only borrowing them to write for fun, without any intention of profiting from it. I thank this talented lady for blessing us with such a rich ground to build up our creativity on.

The messy-haired wizard winced internally at the thought of the conversation he was going to have with her today. As much as he had once thought that they were meant to be, he had no patience or skill to deal with her quirks, her drive, and her insecurities.

She was not whom he needed at the moment, and he simply did not have it in him to be there for her. The war and its casualties had taken a toll on him. He was exhausted and weary, and a relationship with his witch was simply too much to handle right now. She was far too tense, and what he needed was fun.

He wanted to let his hair down and throw his worries away. He wanted to be reckless, laugh uncontrollably, live for the moment, and for once in his young life, he wanted to live without any responsibilities weighing down on him.

He knew that he was selfish.

There was no doubt in his mind about how much she had sacrificed and done for him over the years, and thinking about that made his heart sink, a flood of guilt jolting him to the core. He grimaced, and folded his arms in front of his chest.

Even knowing that he was behaving like a selfish arsehole, he just did not have it in him to give up the freedom that he longed for. Not now, not even for her, not after all that he had given up, all that he had done for the Wizarding world. Not after all the hardships life had dealt him, after all the manipulation, all the blood, and all the sacrifices and tears.

No, after everything that he had gone through, he deserved to have a say about how he lived his life, no matter what others thought about it.

He deserved to be the person he wanted to be, to shape his own life to be whatever he wanted it to be, and he deserved to do whatever he wanted to do, without abandon, even if that meant hurting the one person who was always loyal to him.

She would certainly be hurt. She would be angry, and she might even hex the hell out of him, but she would understand, she always did. If there was one thing that Harry Potter knew about Hermione Granger, it was that she was quite possibly the most forgiving person he had ever met.

He was going to be fine. Hermione would still remain his loyal friend, and he would still be able to draw from her ever-present support. She would still be a constant comforting presence in his life.

He had no reason to worry about this, as Hermione Granger would always be there for him, right?

Harry looked up when he heard the quiet sound of fingers fumbling with the keys of the small studio apartment they had shared for the past few months. He swallowed hard, and readied himself for what he felt desperate to do. He wanted this weight off his shoulders, and it would definitely be easier to break-up with her now, rather than later. He was doing both of them a favour, he adamantly tried to convince himself.

Harry felt a sharp ache in his chest as he heard Hermione's sweet voice calling out for him.

"I'm home, love," she softly chimed, and tumbled into their kitchen, where he was currently sitting at the counter. Hermione had a bright smile on her face, and she leaned in for a sweet kiss, only to pull back feeling confused at the lack of response from him. "Harry?"

He gazed at his witch's face, her brows furrowed into the very line of worry that was just so Hermionesque that it made him feel even worse. "Hermione, we need to talk," he choked on his words, his voice tight and serious. He could not help but notice the flash of concern in her eyes.

Hermione dropped her bag atop the kitchen counter and sat beside him. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" she asked worriedly.

"No," he sighed. "Look, Hermione, there is no easy way to say this, but I feel that I have to get this off my chest."

The brunette witch nodded compassionately, and gently took his hand in hers. "Of course, Harry. You know that you can talk to me about anything," she murmured, frowning slightly as her boyfriend pulled away from her for the second time. She suddenly had a sinking feeling that this was not going to be a conversation she would enjoy.

Harry averted his gaze from Hermione's hurt expression at flinching away from her touch, but he knew that he would not be able to do this otherwise. He justified the action with the thought that in a few short moments, Hermione would not want to touch him anyway, unless it was to cause him physical pain.

Harry took a deep breath and confessed, "I can't do this anymore, Hermione. This isn't working between us, and I think we would be better off as friends."

The brunette witch stared at Harry blankly, shocked to her very core. She was not expecting that he would want to break-up with her. Hermione thought that their relationship was the only good thing that had happened to her in the past eighteen months, and now everything was falling apart. Her lips quivered as she spoke, "Why?" she asked in a hollow whisper, struggling to process this turn of events.

Harry looked thoughtful, and he decided that he might as well be straightforward with Hermione. He had nothing to hide, after all. "Well, we're not compatible in the romantic sense. You're too high-strung. You constantly obsess over the importance of education, and the betterment of the House-Elves and other sentient beings, not even taking into consideration whether or not they really want or need your help," he began, missing the gleam of utter betrayal flashing in Hermione's eyes. He was on a roll now, recalling every single little thing that bothered him, but he was never able to discuss with her, lest he upset her. "You always think that you know best, because you're smarter than the rest of us. Well, let me tell you, as utterly brilliant as you are, you're sorely lacking in the social department. You're unable to read people, and you have absolutely no sense of when to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself."

Hermione was crying by now, unable to control the thick salty tears that were trailing down her cheeks. She just could not believe what she was hearing. She would have expected such words out of Ronald's mouth, but never from Harry's. She felt betrayed, utterly and completely betrayed. It was one thing that Harry did not see a future with her, as she was well aware that she was not easy to handle, but it felt like their whole friendship was a lie. He never once mentioned any of this to her.

Harry was pacing the length and breadth of the room, completely absorbed in his harangue, not even looking at Hermione's face, ignorant of the fact that he was crossing the line. "I just want to go out and experience life at the fullest. I want to laugh, I want to joke, I want to have fun, tons of ridiculous fun, without you breathing down on my neck to be responsible. I'm through with rules and responsibilities. You always try to shape Ron and I into perfect little clones of yourself. Well, we don't want to be like you. Why would we want to be such miserable, insecure, swotty little know-it-all bookworms who think they are better than everyone else because they are oh-so-clever?"

Harry's eyes widened as he felt the sharp sting of a slap. He realized that in his notion of honesty, he might have gone too far. He winced as he took a moment to think about the things that he had said, and how eerily similar to Ron he had sounded. He never once insulted her like this before, up until now that is.

"How dare you?" Hermione hissed, her voice vibrating with emotion. "How dare you disrespect our friendship like this?" her eyes shined with tears. "I would've understood if you simply didn't see me in a romantic light anymore, but there was absolutely no need to viciously tear into me, especially since you've never mentioned any of that before," her voice faltered, her fingers digging into the palm of her hands, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"I thought we were friends, best friends. I've never–" Hermione shook her head in denial. "Never mind, you'll get your wish," she promised, her voice frighteningly icy.

Harry winced at her words, and at the sight of the distraught witch. He had an uncanny ability to muck things up, didn't he. He watched as Hermione whirled around, grabbing her wand, and with a few well-cast charms she bundled up all of her belongings, shrinking everything to fit into the one bag that she had previously placed on the counter.

"Hermione," he hesitantly addressed her. He did not want there to be hard feelings between them.

The muggleborn witch pressed her lips into a thin line, squaring her shoulders and grabbing her purse. "Save it, Potter! It doesn't matter. I will not burden any of you with my miserable swotty presence, as you might catch my cooties, and that would be most unfortunate as we would not want you and your best friend to be shaped into perfect little clones of me, after all, now, would we?" she snapped at him sarcastically, trying to mask the amount of hurt his remarks had caused her.

The raven-haired wizard blanched at her words. "Hermione," he tried again, but she turned around her heels, apparating away, leaving only an echo of a sharp popping sound in her wake.

Harry buried his face into his hands and sighed. "That went well..."

~oo~oOo~oo~

Hermione appeared on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, intent on seeking refuge with Minerva McGonagall. The older witch had taken a particular shine to her bright young student back when she was only twelve, taking her under her wing, teaching her much like she would teach an Apprentice, even though they had never made it official.

After Miss Granger's parents died in a muggle car accident in her second year, she had become her legal guardian. This was not common knowledge in the Wizarding world, only the people who needed to know knew about it.

Once Hermione had caught her breath and wiped her eyes, she carefully fastened her purse to her body, and transformed into her Animagus form. She shrank spectacularly as she took on the shape of a small Barred Owl.

Hermione had spread her wings, taking to the sky, her soft caramel coloured primary feathers propelling her flight. Her lighter secondary feathers that faded into pearly white balanced her as she glided smoothly among the clouds. She felt a sense of freedom, and a certain jolt of thrill that she had never experienced flying on a broom.

The Gryffindor witch was never able to trust a mere wooden stick with some bristles on top, that was enchanted to fly, to keep her safe. She had always assumed that her problem was a fear of heights, thus she worked herself into a panicked state when she discovered her animal form. She was adamant that she did the meditation wrong, and to the chagrin of Minerva, she had insisted on repeating the process a few more times before admitting defeat.

Despite Hermione's opposition to being a feathered flying creature, she had diligently threw herself into working towards being able to make the shift, and she achieved her first transformation a mere eighty days later, astonishing her Professor at the speed of her process. It was well-documented that studying Animagi was a long and difficult technique, taking anywhere between a year to eighteen months to completely transform oneself.

Hermione simply blushed at the Transfiguration Mistress' awe and bewilderment, and changed the subject.

"Hermione!" Minerva exclaimed cheerfully when she spotted the beautiful owl tapping on her office window. She let her in, taken aback when she suddenly had her arms full with a sobbing witch. She gently drew her daughter towards the golden and crimson coloured settee, pulling her down to sit beside her. "What happened, love?" she asked in a concern laced voice.

"H-Harry b-broke up with me," she sniffled, clutching onto the robes of the witch she had considered her second Mother.

The Headmistress gasped. She was flabbergasted by this news. Ever since their second year, she had always assumed that Mr. Potter would one day marry Hermione, continuing his father's legacy of marrying the Brightest-Witch-of-Their-Age.

"Don't fret, my dear Aderyn. Mr. Potter will surely come to his senses," she comforted her soothingly, only to be met with vehement denial.

"No, Mum, you don't understand. The Harry that broke up with me was unlike the Harry that told me we were fated to fall in love with each other," she choked. "He not only told me we were not compatible, h-he–" she broke into a stuttering, sobbing summary of the events that had passed, catching Minerva up on how it all went down.

By the time Hermione finished recounting what happened, Minerva McGonagall was absolutely furious at the audacity of one Harry James Potter. She had never thought she would see the day that he insulted her daughter in everything but blood. She was at a loss how to comfort Hermione, however, because for seven years, the little witch's world had orbited around the boy.

The Headmistress gently held the young woman close to her chest, fondly caressing her wild curls. "Everything will be alright, love. Sometimes people grow apart, even if it goes unnoticed. All you can do is grieve over the loss of what used to be important to you and move on. You're a strong witch, Hermione, and you're destined for greatness. Harry Potter does not define who you are. The world is wide and rich with wonder, and it's waiting for you to discover it," she tenderly said.

Hermione sniffled, and gazed at the endearingly wrinkled face of Minerva. "Would you come with me to see the world? I want to leave Britain, perhaps not forever, but for a while, however, I don't want to leave you behind. You mean everything to me, and I couldn't bear the distance."

Minerva smiled brightly. She was thinking about retirement for a while now, as she yearned for a new adventure. Traveling the world with her beautiful daughter, while helping her through her heartbreak, was something she could certainly enjoy doing so. "I've been settling my affairs here at Hogwarts, since the last classes of the year have concluded. The castle had appointed Filius as Headmaster, with Pomona being Deputy Headmistress. They will do a most wonderful job keeping the matters of the school well in hand."

The younger witch's eyes sparkled with emotion. "I'm so grateful to have you, Mum. I love you," she smiled a small smile, putting her sorrow aside for now, and concentrating on the new adventure she was going to have. Hermione closed her eyes briefly, instantly spiraling into creating lists in her mind. "We need to get everything organized and do some research...," her voice trailed off, as she excitedly mumbled on and on about everything they needed to do.

The old tabby cat smiled inwardly. The saying "The more things change, the more they stay the same..." appeared to ring true, and she could not be more pleased about that.

A/N: This new story is dedicated to SereniteRose, one of my lovely readers who reads and reviews everything I write, and never ceases to make me smile.

Elly wished for a story where Hermione is in some way dumped/betrayed by either Harry or Ron, leaving Britain behind, and some years later, returning a changed witch. Now, I did not agree with everything she outlined, but I took the basic premise of her detailed request and made it my own:

Harry breaks up with Hermione, because he feels confined and limited in their relationship, as he feels they want completely different things in life. In the heat of the moment he inadvertently says things that break her heart worse than the break-up itself does, and she is crushed. She seeks out her adoptive Mother, Minerva, and they set out on a journey towards love and self-fulfillment.

The story will focus on the journey and how Hermione and Minerva meet all kinds of magical creatures and make new friendships, while getting reacquainted with old friends along the way. Not only do I plan on Hermione finding love, I believe it would be delightful if Minerva did as well. I am yet undecided on the romantic entanglements, it will write itself for now, unless a certain mood inspires me.

Thank you for the inspiration, and hope you guys will enjoy the journey! :)

Glossary:

Aderyn

Means "bird" in Welsh. This is a modern Welsh name.

Metamorphosis

The process of transformation from an immature form to an adult form in two or more distinct stages.