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It happened slowly, so slow in fact that Hermione did not even notice it until it was too late, way too late. By the time she had noticed her world was shattered into a million pieces.
In one day, at least it seemed like, the three women who owned her soul had fallen out of love with her and divorced her with complete and total indifference. Her two best friends, let alone the rest of them, wanted nothing more to do with her. Her parents could not handle her anymore and asked her to leave never to darken their doorstep ever again.
Even though she did not know how or why, Hermione still fought tooth and nail to hold herself together and decided that since they were done with her, she would do as they wished and completely remove herself from their lives.
It also soon became apparent that even complete and total strangers could not stand, let alone tolerate her no matter what she said or did. So, with that the brunette moved to America, found a job that required the least amount of human face-to-face interaction, holed herself up in her flat, only going out when absolutely necessary and just waiting.
Waiting for what you might ask? Why, simply waiting for death. While she had nothing left, nothing worth noting anyway, she still had her pride and with that she just waited. And it was, as far as she could recollect, the slowest death.