There are many, many descriptions of what a mental break feels like but, they are all lies. No one is the same and, at least in her experience, no one who has experienced one wants to detail it all in written word.

Of course it started when Bellatrix tortured her, she could still feel that fetid breath caress her skin and magic violate her in ways that reeked with twisted pleasure.

When Doby died, one more block fell from her wall. Harry burying him had helped steady it but the damage was done. By the time the Battle of Hogwarts was over it was all she could do not curl into a ball and hide from the world. For every friend that lived the dead weighed so much more.

The ministry had made a big deal about increasing security on the anniversary of Voldemort's death, but like most acts of revenge the date was unimportant. If it had been a spell, a curse or even poison she could have dealt with it, those were all expected and precautions had been taken. The assassin had chosen to be messy, to make a statement. The news had tagged it; "Champion of the Muggles, murdered by Muggle bomb."

Afterwards she had shut down, shut out everyone who was close to her. She thought she couldn't feel any worse, weeks went by and the pain didn't stop. Then, it got worse. She stepped outside to grab the muggle paper when a wall of reporters started screaming at her. Did she know? How did she feel? Would she be attending the funeral? Was the rumor true that she was pregnant with his child?

The sudden assault of sight and sound momentarily stunned her, giving a bold reporter an opening, "Hermione! How do you feel about the death of Ron Weasley? Did you know he was involved in an underground dueling ring? Hermione! Hermione, do you have a statement?"

That was when the last light, the one she wasn't even aware still flickered in her heart, went out.