A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with The Heroine again! I've decided to keep the Elanor Rigby section to two parts of this story instead of the three I had planned when I originally posted and outlined this story. I'm sorry to the Ronmione fans. But, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Hermione's heart shattered only three times in her short life. The first being the day that she obliviated her parents and sent them packing to Austrailia, so that they would be safe. They were still safe with no recollection of their eldest daughter at all. It still made her heart ache but she was glad that they survived overall. The second was a few nights ago as her husband Ron Weasley died in her arms. Her heart had shattered further than she ever thought possible. All that love that she had to give and had given him had no place to go. And the third was the day that they laid Ron to rest. Seeing him for the last time, so quite, paler than ever, blank face, and ever so still, it broke her.

As she watched the men levitate Ron's casket into the grave Kingsley, the new Minister of Magic, gave a few more words of how great of a man Ron was and that he would be dearly missed.

All too soon they were asked to throw their flowers into the grave on top of the casket. Hermione, being his wife was the first one to cast, soon being followed by the others. Doing a muggle tradition, stopped those who were covering Ron up and grabbed an handful of dirt and sprinkled it. His family followed suit.

This was the nail in the proverbial coffin for Hermione. She fell to her knees letting out gut wrenching sobs. She felt two pairs of arms wrap around her. Through her tears she sees Ginny and Harry, she holds onto their arms tighter as more sobs wrack her body.

The next few weeks Hermione spent in their shared home. She never left but neither did the ongoing stream of visitors. Through grief each of the Weasley's visited. But she ignored them, letting her grief and depression get the best of her. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and now that it had, she hadn't realized how hard that shoe would land.

She became skin and bones not that she refused to eat, it was because she simply just wasnt hungry. It became apparent to her on how much she missed Ron and how big of a role she played in her life not only as her significant other but also one of her best friends.

Upon that realization she sank a bit deeper into the grief induced depression. No matter how many people were there to support her during this time as she adjusted, she felt completely alone. She had no one to share her true grief with. Everyone else had lost a brother or friend, but only she lost her true love and a best friend. And she was completely and utterly alone.

Days slowly passed for Hermione. She didn't leave their home to get groceries, go out to see friends, or even to get her mail. Everything that she had in the house was thanks to Harry, Ginny, or one of the other Weasley's. Even then she could hardly stand being around any one of his brothers, it was an all too painful reminder of him.

About a month after his death Ginny let herself into Hermione's home and went to look for Hermione. She found her standing and looking at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Ginny was horrified at the sight infront of her. She knew that Hermione's face looked sunken in and that she was weak from grief but she never expected the sight in front of her. The healthy Hermione that she once knew was no longer infront of her. A skeleton of a girl stared back at Ginny. Looking at Ginny in the eyes Hermione finally broke down.

After Ginny found her staring at herself in the mirror one day after she got the strength built up to finally take care of her rats nest of hair, Hermione agreed to see a mind healer and be admitted to St. Mungo's to get her stable.

It was a rough two weeks in St. Mungo's. Everything hurt and she threw up just about everything she ate because her body just simply rejected it because of going without a full meal for so long. They finally had to call for drastic measures and Hermione was put into a medically induced coma so her body could heal from the damage she had done. But she didn't blame herself, oh no, she blamed the bitch that was the cause of it. She felt the rage spark inside her and vowed that she would get revenge once and for all.

It was two weeks after Hermione was admitted and put in the coma that they finally woke her up. They had weighed Hermione every single day that she was able to keep down a full meal of liquidized food to make sure weight was being gained, even ever so slightly was a sign of good progress.

All of the Weasley's had visited her throughout the duration of her stay. When she was finally able to she apologized to everyone for shutting everyone out and not validating their grief because they did too lose a loved one. That's what Hermione felt worse about than anything else is that she pushed other hurting people away because they weren't hurting the same way she was.

Hermione stayed in St. Mungo's for a month and a half. The first two weeks were in the coma, the next was getting her stronger and being able to keep down meals fully, the last two weeks was working toward being able to use magic without it draining her. All this time she talked a mind healer every single day for an hour or two. Slowly she started dealing with her grief better, but the sense of lonliness never left her. Even during her rage she felt the feeling creeping in.

Her rage fuled her. She never stopped fighting to get better. But as she fought to get better, the lonlier and lonlier she grew. This just made her fight even harder. She should not be this lonely surrounded by everyone, she was with people constantly not just to visit and talk about what had happened, but she went out with friends and everything. It only added to her thirst revenge further.

Hermione redesigned their house completely. She magically gutted it and laid out the new floor plan just how she had always dreamed. Kingsley had put her on a sabbatical until she was ready to come back to work. It would be longer still yet that she was ready to. She had a lot to work on.

Pretty soon she had the house like she always wanted. Ron was almost completely erased from the home, it was almost like he never existed, or just like he nevered lived in the house. Except she had preserved what had once been the master bedroom. Except her things were no longer in the room, just Ron's. She put it in a dark corner of the house that only she could access. When she got unbearably lonely she would go and lay in their old bed wearing one of Ron's shirts. His scent preserved by the spells she used.

Hermione knew that she would be considered crazy for doing that with the room but she didn't care. It was her comfort on her darkest days and when she especially felt lonely. But she didn't realize that this was pulling her deeper into the loneliness that embeded itself inside her that night.

On the one year anniversary of Ron's death, Hermione didn't get out of bed. She knew that she should go open the door to the people who just needed her but she couldn't get her limbs to move nor did she care to do something about her loneliness today.

But this one day streatched into a couple of weeks. She could barely pull herself out of bed to eat, let alone bathe or do a proper hygiene routine. Ginny was once again the one to pull Hermione out of her funk.

Sitting on the stool infront of the mirror she watched as Ginny took scissors to her hair. During this stretch of depression, her hair had gotten so matted that she couldn't unmat or use magic to untangle it. So here Ginny was cutting the mats out her hair.

In the end Hermione was left with a cute pixie cut. To put it simply she loved it. This felt like in a step in the right direction as the feeling of loneliness was starting to dissapate. After that day she started working harder than ever to get better so she could become an Auror.

It was about a year after Ron's death that Hermione finally went back to work. She was still skin and bones but was working back up to a healthy weight. Still not at a hundred percent she was put behind a desk until she could go through Auror training without killing herself.

She would do anything to be able to train and hunt that bitch down. Bellatrix Lestrange was going to be dead once and for all by the time she got done with her. Even if it mean she used her bare hands to do it.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry if it seemed forced, but I wanted to highlight what it can be like to go through grief and how grief isn't consistent. Love all of you! I'll work harder to get the next three chapters out. ~ Moon