A/N: Yes, I am back. Yes, I know this isn't The Life I Loved. I know, Hermione's dead in that story. I know, you all hate me now. Don't fear, in time will come a sequel to that story. However, this is not it. This is a brand spanking new story. I hope I haven't lost too many readers while I was getting settled on campus. And I should probably inform you that my updates will be sporadic, and irregular. I have way too much homework now…unfortunately.

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine. Sorry, everyone.

Chapter One: Hate Life!

Harry Potter had never been happier in his entire seventeen years. He was lounging under a huge apple tree with one arm holding his broomstick and his other hand holding his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. The sun was just starting to sink, and the sky was shot with pink, gold, and violet, making the Burrow look like it belonged on a postcard instead of an empty field. Ginny's blue eyes looked electric, and her hair looked combustible. He buried his nose in it and smelled her shampoo, a delicious mixture of strawberries and honey.

"Oi!" Ron called out, floating about ten feet off the ground. "Are you going to get on that broom or what?" He did a quick loop, and righted himself when Hermione yelped in fear. Ever since he and Hermione had started dating at the end of sixth year, Hermione had cared a lot more about the crazy stunts Ron did on his broom and had done her best to keep them toned down. She didn't want him falling off and breaking his neck.

Harry leaned over and gave Ginny a swift kiss on the cheek, and leaped onto his broom, hurtling over to Ron in a matter of a few seconds. Ron scooted back a little, and guarded the apple in his hand protectively.

"No touching my Quaffle," he said, lowering his voice to a growl. Hermione chuckled, and Ginny snorted. Harry just rolled his eyes, stuck his hand out, and knocked the apple to the ground.

"Oops."

Ron stared at the ground, his mouth open in silent protest, and Harry swooped down to retrieve his "Quaffle". He tossed it back up to Ron, who deftly caught it, and zoomed off. Harry allowed him three seconds before he followed.

Hermione settled down beside Ginny and they gossiped about the two boys flying in gleeful circles above them. School was set to start in a week. Seventh year for the Golden Trio would begin, and sixth year would being for Ginny. Even Hermione was reluctant for it to start. Being away from the family would mean they wouldn't have any idea what was going on with the Order until break.

She knew Harry and Ron were going to be snappy and jumpy the whole time. Peace would only come when Voldemort was vanquished. But for the time being, she was enjoying the short reprieve from evil.

She and Ginny turned their faces to the retreating sun and closed their eyes, surrounded by their respective thoughts.

*****

Draco Malfoy reached up and wiped the sweat off his pale brow, completely forgetting that his sleeve was already saturated with his sweat. Fenrir Greyback circled around him, his hands extended at his sides, his face pulled tight in a war grimace. Lucius Malfoy was watching from a high backed mahogany chair that he had made Draco carry in before the fight had begun.

It was Lucius's idea to make Draco learn to fight without a wand. Muggle-fighting, as Draco called it, would be very beneficial on the battle field if Draco lost his wand. However, Draco, while he was highly opposed to the idea of fighting like a caveman, had a certain aptitude for it.

He had pinned Fenrir again and again, and the werewolf's nerves were wearing thin. His face had tightened around his features, making him look more wolf than man. Draco had to reassure himself that it was nowhere near the full moon, and Greyback was just angry that he was losing to a seventeen year old boy.

Although after a summer of intense physical, magical, and mental training, Draco hardly looked seventeen anymore. He looked like he could pass for twenty years old, with his broad shoulders filled with muscle and his custom black suits fit him in all the right places. His white blonde hair was no longer slicked back, but fell in jagged spikes around his face and ears. His grey eyes looked hardened and dangerous, and his nose was slightly crooked, if you looked close enough.

But when he smiled, he still had that boyish quality that made girls swoon. However, he didn't do much smiling anymore. Now he was nothing but what his father called "a killing machine." His father had taught him how to fight with his hands, with his wand, his mind, and a sword.

Why a sword, Draco had no idea. All he knew was it made him feel powerful.

Fenrir lunged, and Draco slid to the side, letting the huge man shoot right past him. They had been fighting for over two hours, and Draco was tiring of the game. It was a lot less of a hassle to just let Greyback keep missing.

It also kept the werewolf a little less humiliated.

Greyback had long given up beating Draco, but Lucius made him come back every other day to fight his son. Lucius had some sort of power over the werewolf, something that Draco had noticed when Greyback didn't tear him to shreds the first time Draco had decked him. At the beginning, he was scared to hurt the werewolf, not wanting to face the consequences that would surely come back to him if he angered him.

So when he refused to fight, his father took him into his study for a "talk". Draco had emerged a different person. His mother even said he looked distant, less human. His father had broken something in him, and while Draco was sure it had happened, he couldn't quite put his finger on what had happened. Sometimes, casting the Cruciatus curse one too many times makes a person go mad. And sometimes, it just breaks you.

Draco Malfoy was broken. He still had flashes of feelings like guilt, or affection, mostly to his mother, and fear, but it was quickly squashed by adrenaline, or hate.

Draco Malfoy hated life.

*****

Remus Lupin held tightly to Tonks's hand, pulling her through the tight crowd in the Ministry of Magic with his head down and hoping her hair stayed an inconspicuous color. He gently moved through the crowd like water, doing his best to stay unnoticed. If a high ranking Ministry official saw them here, they would be dead for sure. They weren't sure how many people were under Voldemort's control, but it would be prudent to assume it was almost everyone.

The Ministry had fallen, and Tonks and Lupin were right smack in the middle of the lion's den. He glanced back to lock eyes with Tonks for a millisecond, and ran smack into a small brick wall. He turned and lowered his line of vision.

He was looking straight at Dolores Umbridge.

"Well, what do we have here?" she purred, taking a step toward the pair. Lupin took a hasty step back, and Tonks mirrored him. She slowly reached her hand inside her robes and pulled out her wand.

"We were just on our way out, Dolores," Lupin said calmly, hoping she would let them pass.

He knew it was futile before she even opened her mouth. She already had her wand in her hand.

"Now now," she said, her voice still kept low. "There's a few Ministry officials that would like to speak to you."

Lupin stood his ground this time, trying to look unaffected. "Can't we see them tomorrow? We have a few errands to run before it gets dark," he gestured in the general direction of outside, even though the entire Ministry was underground. She didn't even look.

"I'm sorry, but they need to speak with you immediately. They've been looking for you for quite some time. But you've known that, haven't you? You made your house Unplottable, you stopped returning owls, you haven't seen sunlight for weeks," she reached up and seized his face, taking in his pallid skin.

"I've just been busy," Lupin replied lamely. Tonks muttered something next to him, crouching low behind his back. Something silver shimmered by the tip of her wand, and disappeared. He relaxed a little, then reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. He pointed it lazily at Dolores.

"We aren't doing anything wrong, Dolores," his voice was quiet, persuasive. "Just let us go on our way."

Dolores drew her wand so fast, Lupin barely had time to react. Her spell had him flat on his back in no time. He leaped up, conjuring strength and agility from his forgotten teenage years. He threw up a shield in a desperate attempt to field off the ropes she shot at him. They rebounded on her and wrapped around her ankles. She wavered, then fell, and Lupin pounced. He had his wand at her throat.

"Remus," Tonks murmured anxiously, pulling at his sleeve. He glanced up, and stumbled backwards. There were Ministry officials all around them, with wands pointed at their hearts. Their stances said they were hardly questioning which side they were on.

"Surrender," one of them said.

Remus scoffed. "Hardly."

*****

A shining silver wolf stared Hermione Granger in the face, and opened its mouth to speak. Hermione was startled by Nymphadora Tonk's voice that reverberated around the small orchard.

"Bring as many people as you can to the Ministry. We're under attack."

She and Ginny exchanged a quick look of panic before they jumped to their feet. Hermione tried to wave Ron and Harry down, but they were too high up to notice or hear her. She pointed her wand to her throat. "Sonorus," she said.

"OI!" Her voice echoed loudly, and Ron screeched to a stop in mid-air and barely managed to hold on to his broom.

"TONKS AND LUPIN ARE IN TROUBLE! GET YOUR ARSES DOWN HERE AND LET'S GO!"

Seconds later, she was flanked by Ron and Harry, whose faces were pale beneath their rosy post-Quidditch cheeks.

She batted aside a flurry of questions and led the way back to the Burrow, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were already rounding up the rest of the house's occupants. Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur were all holding their wands aloft and had their battle faces on.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, even though she already knew.

"Dolores Umbridge attacked Lupin and Tonks as they were leaving the Ministry," Mr. Weasley said, running a hand through his thinning red hair.

"Why were they at the Ministry anyway?" Harry asked.

The two grownups exchanged a glance but said nothing. Hermione was sure that Mrs. Weasley's gaze lingered on her for a moment too long. "Let's just go," she heard herself saying.

They threw handful after handful of powder into the flames and seconds later, they were gone.

*****

Draco, his father, Bellatrix, and Lucius arrived at the Ministry at the same time as the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. Hermione raised her wand and shot a curse straight at Draco Malfoy, who deflected it with a flick of a wrist.

Harry widened his eyes a little at Hermione, and she just shrugged. They separated, all taking their own opponent. Draco tried to scoot closer to Harry, but Hermione shot another curse at him, and he turned his attention to her.

He looked different than he did before the summer break. He had filled out more, and his face looked meaner. His normal sneer was gone, replaced with a permanent look of indifference. He looked somehow older now, maybe even scarier. He made no move to attack her yet, just lazily repelled every curse she threw at him, without even speaking.

She decided to take a leaf out of his book, and she stopped yelling curses, and instead started flinging them without a sound. He didn't even flinch, he just kept repelling them.

Death Eaters were falling all around them, and Fred went down. Tonks was bleeding, and Ron was Stunned. Hermione was growing frustrated. Draco still hadn't tried to attack her. She moved to taunts.

"What, are you afraid to attack a girl Malfoy?" she called out, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

He didn't respond.

"I thought Malfoys were winners," she kept on. She continued until her voice grew hoarse, and her wand arm was growing tired. Malfoy showed no signs of fatigue.

"You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name!" She called out desperately. With a loud bang, she flew from her stance until she hit the wall.

She slid down the wall, struggling to stay conscious. She blearily glanced toward Malfoy, who had turned without a glance in her direction and started fighting someone else.

She had never lost a fight in her life.

Hermione Granger hated life.