Disclaimer: Okay, I'm not sure how much I can reiterate this, but, Harry Potter and Co. © JKR.

A/N: Hey, I'm updating again. Heh, It's not like I ever have anything better to do. I'm thinking that I need to kick it up a notch, really get into the action. Hmmm. . . Okay, I'm going to do something completely. . . odd. I'm going to make Draco a good guy, sort of like a misguided hero. Ahem, so, On with the show!

Double Trouble

Chapter Fifteen

"Is everything ready?" Lucius sneered at his son. Draco cringed slightly, but nodded. "Good, you know what you have to do. I'll make sure she gets to the Leaky Cauldron. It's your job to get her here. I trust you can handle this?"

"Yes, Father." Draco looked at the book in his hand with disgust. "I'll get the Mudblood for you." He smirked to cover the foul taste in his mouth at uttering the offending word. He was going to have to appraise Pansy, Vincent, and Gregory of the new situation. They were not going to be pleased. This could put the Resistance in jeopardy.

"Get going, we don't have all day!" Lucius snarled, pushing his son towards the fire. When Draco had flooed away, Lucius whistled, calling for his Eagle Owl, Bellium. "Bell, take this to a Hermione Granger. Be swift and return to me." The owl gave a soft hoot, and took to wing.

***

Hermione sighed slightly, shifting in the bed. George had left with a promise to return. "Working on the Wheezes." She muttered darkly. She was beyond bored. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Remus, and Sirius were gone somewhere. Her cousins were being shown around Diagon Alley, and Molly and Arthur were contacting the others of the Order. She was the only one in the house, as far as she knew. There was no telltale explosions from the twins room, so it was safe to think she was alone.

A tapping at her window startled her from her thoughts. She climbed from the bed, opened the window, admitting a regal looking owl. "What is it? What have you got for me?" She whispered softly, untying the parchment. She went to pet the owl, but it gave a sharp hoot, and left. She shrugged, then glanced at the letter.

Miss Granger,

We have much to discuss. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron.

Sincerely,

Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore

Hermione studied the letter, confused. *Why wouldn't he just come here? * She sighed, running a hand through her hair. *I'd better go. * She got a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt from her trunk, changing swiftly, and went down to the fireplace, where a fire was conveniently burning. *Hmmm. . . Mrs. Weasley must've known. * She grabbed a pinch of floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" and she was gone.

***

Draco sighed heavily. *If only. . . * He thought, staring at the book in his hand angrily. This was definitely not good. If his father even suspected something, he would be dead within the hour. But he had too; he couldn't just let Granger be taken to Voldemort like that. It would ruin all his hard work, make all his plans and preparations for nothing. He was going to have to beg Immunity from Dumbledore, and that thought galled him to no end.

"Draco?" Pansy's soft voice broke into his thoughts. She looked at him, frightened. "They're going to know. What are we going to do?" Gregory and Vincent looked decidedly nervous.

"We're going to do what we should have in the first place." Pansy paled slightly. "We're going to have to tell Potter. It's the only way. If we can tell him, maybe, just possibly, we can pull this thing off. We have to redeem ourselves, for the good of our families." Draco growled suddenly, angrily. "We can't let Him have her. He'd kill her, and where would we be then. She's a major character in our plot. We have to tell her, Weasley, and Potter. It's the only way. Dumbledore will help us. I know it."

"Draco, you don't think they'll hate us, do you?" Vincent suddenly looked young, his mop of dark hair covering his eyes.

"No, not if we tell them the truth, what we've been doing, why we had to do what we did." He reassured his friend, his voice gentle. "We've got to tell them about the Resistance." He suddenly slammed his fist against the table. "How could I have been such a fool?!"

"Draco, we all believed, we all did. It wasn't just you." Pansy began picking at the wooden table. "We didn't know any better. Now we do. We have the chance to help now, the chance to come clean. Voldemort is an evil that must be eradicated. We must do what we can."

"Here she comes." Gregory stared at the fireplace, looking at the girl who was dusting herself off. "She has to believe us."

"C'mon. Let's get this over with."

***

George stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, looking around for his brother. "C'mon Fred, where did you go?" They had been picking up some supplies.

"I'm right behind you, you dolt!" George grinned, "And don't grin. Why did you have me carry all the stuff anyway?" Fred glared at his brother's back.

George was about to reply when a scream cut him off. "Malfoy! Stop it! NO!" George felt his heart plummet to his stomach. He jerked his head to look at the fireplace, where he just made out Hermione surrounded by Malfoy and his cronies. Then they winked out.

"Oh Gods!" George cried, tearing off for the spot. It was useless, they were gone. A piece of parchment lay discarded on the ground, he picked it up numbly, reading it over. Suddenly, he sank to his knees.

"What's wrong?" Fred ambled up behind him, worried.

"They've taken her. How could she be so gullible?" George stared at the parchment blankly.

"Taken who, and by whom?"

"Hermione, by Malfoy."

"Oh Gods!"

***

Hermione struggled blindly against the strange feeling behind her navel. * Why, oh why, did I ever come here? I should have known!* She fell roughly to the ground.

"Granger, get up." Malfoy hissed, pulling the distraught girl to her feet. "C'mon, we have to go, NOW!"

Hermione was aware of being dragged somewhere, but she didn't notice her surroundings, she just slipped deeper and deeper into despair. She vaguely recognized voices, but she lost all sense of time and location. * I should have known!*

"What's wrong with her Draco?" Pansy asked uncertainly, looking at the girl with a mixture of pity and relief.

"She's in shock, it'll take a while for her to snap out of it. Here we are." He stopped before a cabin, pulling out his wand. "Alohamora." He whispered, then pulled on the door when the lock clicked open.

He tugged Hermione over to an available couch, setting her down gently, and then collapsed into an overstuffed armchair. Gregory was the last one in, and he locked the door behind them, muttering a few warding charms, and activating the dislocating cloaking charm.

"Is she going to be alright?" Vincent settled down on an opposite couch.

"I think so." Pansy replied, then looked at Draco. "How did you change the destination of the portkey?"

"It was easy, I just told it to go somewhere different."

"Ah."

Hermione snapped out of it with a scream. She clawed at her jeans, searching for her wand.

"Looking for this?" Draco threw the slim piece of wood at her, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips.

"Why am I here?" She asked dangerously.

"Because, you're in danger, and we-" He indicated his friends, "Saved you."

"Like hell you did!"

"Watch your language, and we did, otherwise you'd be having tea with Voldemort about now. Listen, just give us the benefit of the doubt. Please, Hermione. Our lives rest in your hands now."

"Wha-" She stared at them, gob-smacked. "But. . . I don't understand. And why did you say my name?"

"Look, we need your help, and in return, we can help you."

"And why should I trust a Slytherin? The lot of you are just-"

"Just what? Junior Deatheaters?" Malfoy spat bitterly. "For your information, Slytherin isn't synonymous with Deatheater, okay? I thought someone like you would disregard stereotypes. Guess I was wrong."

Hermione had the grace to look abashed, but then shook her head. "You're lying. You-"

"We what? Gave you back your wand. My father wrote that letter. . . I was to bring you to Voldemort. Well, at risk to my own life and those of my friends, I brought you here."

"But. . . why?"

Pansy snorted, "Don't you realize you're a powerful ally? Don't you know that you hold the trump card in your hand? It's you that will decide this War. Not Harry, though he is a big part of it. The power that you are coming into is just the start. With you as a Goddess Incarnate, your abilities will become infinite. Voldemort is just dying to get his hands on you. He needs you, you have the power to fully restore him and give him eternal life, you and you alone."

Hermione cringed suddenly, "I didn't ask for this."

"Of course you didn't!" Pansy sighed, "No one ever asks for this, it is a gift, with a terrible weight of responsibility behind it. Only those strong enough can wield it. That's why you're so special, Hermione! Don't you see? Your strength of character is the only thing that is holding that power in check. Who is your Goddess?"

Hermione looked at them suspiciously, then figured they'd find out anyway. "Athena."

The others drew in a deep breath. "It's a sign of fortune," Draco expostulated, "We are indeed being smiled upon!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione glared.

"Athena, the only Goddess that wasn't born. The most powerful of all the Gods, Greek or otherwise. Second only to Sekhmet, the Egyptian Goddess, actually, they are more alike."

"But. . . " Hermione looked confused, "Why is this a good thing?"

"Because, you, Hermione Granger, wield the power of Athena, you are her body on earth. She is the Goddess of War, but also the Goddess of Knowledge and Peace. Her city Athens was the greatest of all Greek city-states. Sparta actually feared Athens, for Athena's protection. Her son, Hermes. . . actually, Hermione-Hermes," Draco looked at her oddly. "Coincidence?"

Pansy shook her head.

"What?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"Hermes, her son, was the messenger God. You are Hermione, her body on earth, her messenger."

"Don't call me that! I am no one's messenger boy!" Hermione exclaimed, righteously.

"Okay, but still, you've told us some about you, so we need to return the favor." Draco looked at his friends apprehensively. They nodded, giving him the go-ahead. "We are the Heads of a Secret Organization."

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Secret Organization."

"Yes, we are the Heads of the Resistance. We-" He gestured to the group, "Are the ones that keep foiling Voldemort."

"Oh really? I thought that was Harry!"

"Hermione, not everyone can be so blatantly obvious. What do you think our parents would do if they found out? We'd be dead within the hour, heirs or not. We didn't even form this resistance until Third year. We had to keep up appearances, for the sake of our lives." He winced slightly, "We are all very. . . sorry, for the pain we've put you through these last few years."

"Wha-" Hermione was dumbstruck. "You-you apologized." She stated the obvious.

"Yes well. . . We need your help. We've got to contact Dumbledore. We have to get him, and Potter, to believe us."

"I'm not sure if I even believe you."

Draco nodded, "Fair enough. But, well, we must at least talk to them. For the safety of ourselves and our families."

Hermione stared at them for a moment. "I guess. . . "

Draco smiled, a rare real smile that was the clinching factor for her. "Thank you." He said graciously, then turned away, not wanting her to see the tear in his eye. He was going to be able to save his little sister.

*___________________________________________________________*

A/N: I stopped it there. Heh. Couldn't think of anything more. Plot development is at an all time low. Ah well, don't forget to read and review.

Love,

~Me~