Hermione was confused. She'd been told Loki was the murderous madman who had led the Chitauri invasion which had devastated New York. But so far, apart from the kidnapping, he had been nothing short of charming and she found his behaviour very unsettling. Take Voldemort, for example. That was a real villain, all cackles and threats, plus a little torture on the side to really drive his point home. Maybe it had been his lack of a nose that had made the dark wizard so evil.

But this Loki had a nose and was, for lack of a better word, charming. If you could look beyond all the blue, that is, because she had to admit he reminded her a lot of the cornish pixies Lockheart had left loose in his classroom in her second year. He even had that mischievous look about him, which she should have expected since she'd gathered from past readings that he was...is the Norse Trickster God. Not that she should trust books too much, as she'd discovered from her misadventure with the Hallows.

"I'm not going to help you," she said flatly, glad she was still under the influence of Death's Curse so her expression wouldn't give away how frightened she actually was of him.

She was powerless against Loki, or anyone for that matter, without access to her wand and tied as she was to a chair. At present, she might be able to cast a cleaning charm at him, or levitate a pebble to drop on his head, but she doubted he'd be very impressed by such a display.

"Come now, my Lady," he crooned. "Surely a mere change in my appearance doesn't go against some sort of moral dilemma. It is but cosmetics and will not hurt anyone, I promise you."

"Yeah, sure, but I know how this goes: I lend you a helping hand… and then you rip my whole bloody arm off."

Loki looked at her quizzically, his head tilted to the side while his red eyes bore into her, probably wondering if she was a bit touched in the head.

"I assure you your arms are perfectly safe with me. Besides, I was under the impression you needed them to perform magic, so it would quite defeat the purpose to have them removed. We're civilized people, you and I, I am quite certain we can come to an agreement without resorting to such violence. There has to be something you desire, yes?"

Hermione twitched. One day, she could have happily told him no. Her life had been perfect and fulfilling, and she had wanted nothing more. Today, though, she had nothing, she had no one… and it felt like Loki was rubbing her nose in it.

"So there is. I can see you long for something. Or even someone? Why won't you tell me? I will provide you with your heart's desire and all I ask in return is a little magic trick."

"And then you'll let me go?" she scoffed.

Just how naive did he think she was? It would have been tempting, she had to admit, if he had been trustworthy, but even he, a God, could not give her back her former life. This whole kidnapping business was futile, a waste of her time and her nose was itching, which was quite annoying with her hands tied behind her back. She wondered if she could loosen them up a bit. Harry had taught her a spell for that, butterfingers he'd called it, but she had never tried it wandlessly before...

As she pondered her escape, Loki suddenly rushed her, so she shut her eyes tight, bracing herself for the impact since she could do nothing else. She had known the madman would resort to violence in the end. Typical. But the blow never came. She was manhandled to the side, her and her chair both, but that was all. She was shaken up, and the rope burned where it had dug into her skin from the sudden movement, but she was not hurt and it took her a while to realize she'd been pushed out of the way of a falling roofbeam, rotten on both ends. Not surprising given the state of Loki's hidey-hole. Not surprising given the number of heavy objects that had fallen on her lately. In fact, the only surprise here was the suspicious lack of bananas.

Loki looked up with a frown at the roof through which a patch of clear blue sky was now visible, then down at her.

"Coincidence?" she offered with a grin, because how often did you get the chance to mock the God of Mischief? She laughed but it was more out of nerves. "Ha! He probably didn't expect you to save me, you being the big bad guy and all."

"And who is this 'he' you speak of?"

Oups. Hermione hadn't realized she'd been deducing aloud, which she apparently did more often than not and was one of the reasons people found her to be such an insufferable know-it-all. Not that she cared. Deciding silence was the best defence, she smacked her lips shut and observed him. He did the same and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. But that was fine. She could stay for hours without speaking, her brain would keep her entertained. But her nose was itching, and she was cold, and she hadn't eaten all night, or slept. Plus she'd kill for a warm bubble bath right now. But mostly the itch.

"I don't suppose you would agree to scratch my nose?"

Loki looked down at her, then smirked, his teeth incredibly white against his blue skin.

"Is that really what your heart desires?"

Hermione scoffed and turned away from him as much as she could, which wasn't a lot in truth, but enough to convey her feelings.

"You drive a hard bargain. I'll just suffer in silence."

After a while, she realized Loki wasn't just skulking around at random. He was observing everything with intense red eyes: her, the warehouse, or whatever this messy place was used for, her chair, even her shadow… he seemed to be looking for something. Or waiting for something… someone? Did he expect her to be rescued? She dismissed the notion. Maria might have noticed her absence this morning when she didn't return to crash in the guest room, but she doubted her reluctant roommate would be alarmed over it. Aside from her, no one expected her company, so it might be a while before someone wondered what had happened to her and raise the alarm. She almost told him so, but decided it was better to let him squirm at the imagined rescue.

Loki lunged unexpectedly once more, but to her left this time, and grasped a dark, tattered sleeve from the shadows, pulling and pulling until, out of nowhere, stood Death. Her jaw fell, but she regained her composure out of sheer anger.

"What's this, then?" Loki asked looking between the two of them.

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione snapped because he couldn't look anymore obviously like Death if he pinned a nametag to his black robe.

"I'm guessing a relative? The resemblance is uncanny. Your father, mayhaps?"

Hermione snorted. She had forgotten she still looked like the Grim and it wouldn't wear off anytime soon since she had used magic all night, but she thought Loki would know she was only human. Well, not a muggle human, she did have magic.

"Do not insult me. I have nothing to do with the mortal thief."

"I didn't want to steal your stupid Hallows. You forced me into it!"

"You should have accepted your fate."

"You shouldn't have lied about it in the first place!"

"Only by omission."

"Couple counselling?" Loki interrupted with a mock-innocent air.

She and Death made twin faces of disgust.

"It seems each one of us wishes for something. I propose we help each other out, then go our own merry way."

"I told you: not going to happen."

Loki ignored her and turned to Death's inquisitive lack of eyeballs.

"Forgive my rudeness. I am Loki, of Asguard," he said with a bow which somehow wasn't a gesture of respect or modesty, but on the contrary, only highlighted the very high opinion he had of himself. It was such a Malfoy move, Hermione found herself rolling her eyes, not that it showed.

"Uhm, that explains a lot," Death grumbled. "Your kind doesn't usually visit this realm. To what do we owe the displeasure?"

"It is not by choice, I assure you. I'll be gone as soon as possible, which will be sooner if we are to help one another."

"And what help can you possibly require from me? For that matter, I doubt I could help you. Your kind is out of my jurisdiction, so to speak."

"You could start by telling me why you want my associate here dead."

"Not your associate," she muttered, ignored once more by the two entities looming over her.

And so Death told their tale. Hermione had never seen him so chatty before. Maybe because he felt he was speaking to an equal instead of a mere mortal. Loki asked a question here and there, until he nodded in satisfaction.

"My understanding is that you want your artefacts, these "Hallows", back in your possession as well as her soul." Death nodded and Loki turned towards her. "While you don't want these Hallows but would, I imagine, prefer to keep your soul."

"Obviously," she snarked, channeling her inner Snape.

Loki hummed and walked into the patch of sunlight shining through the hole in the roof. His blue skin almost seemed to shimmer, as if it was made of a million tiny snowflakes.

"Are you so very set on her soul, Guardian of the Dead, or is this just revenge? Which I understand, don't get me wrong. Revenge can be so very delectable, but it sometimes gets in the way of matters of greater import. So what will it be? Your Hallows? Or… her?" Loki finished with a scoff in her direction, conveying quite clearly what little he thought she was worth.

"You would try to manipulate me, Asgardian? You are but a stranger here."

Loki shrugged, then turned his back on Death, but Hermione could have sworn he winked at her as he did so.

"I will have my Hallows. And her soul."

"You will have it… eventually. Sooner rather than later given her poor choice in friends and career. That is the destiny of all mortals, is it not? But your Hallows, now that is a different story. You wouldn't want them to be scattered across the realms, impossible for you to reunite with them ever again."

A rattling sound came from Death, as if every bone in his body was bristling with anger. Hermione didn't know what Loki was playing at, what he hoped to win for himself by negotiating with Death, but she was glad that anger was not directed at her. A cold wind blew through the warehouse, taking with it the ominous rattle and Death himself.

"He'll come around," Loki said confidently.

"They were right. You're mad as a hatter," she said, while mentally adding brilliant and fearless to the list. "And I suppose thanks are in order, for saving me at least, but I'm still not helping you. You found Death's pressure point, well done, but you've still got nothing on me."

Loki strode right up to her and pinched her chin between his blue, ice cold fingers to force her to look up at him.

"Do. Not. Challenge. Me."

As he ground out those words, his fiery eyes lost of their intensity and his whole body language shifted from suppressed fury to surprise, a soft "Oh…" escaping him as he inspected his hand still clutching her chin.

Hermione soon realized the source of his shock when the red gaze shifted to a malicious green and the blue tone of his skin turned a creamy porcelain tint. Soon, instead of the foreboding blue man stood quite a good looking fellow.

"Looks like you're cured. Hooray. Now can you let me go?"

Loki snapped his attention back to her, looking surprised yet again. He frowned and snatched his fingers away from her chin, as if burned, only for him to return to his blue self. She sighed as she understood that what she'd thought was her ticket out of jail had just turned itself into a one-way ticket to cuddle-land. As expected, Loki's cold fingers reached for her face again, her cheek this time. The blue gave way to beige. Fingers off. Blue.

"Well, it looks like I don't need your cooperation after all," Loki said.

"Handcuffs? Really?" Hermione asked, shaking her manacled hand and his by extension. "It's not exactly discreet."

"I don't need it to be. I'm already a wanted criminal. But you'll have to admit it's a lot more discreet than my other form. Or yours," he added, lacing his fingers with hers, and this time, she too saw her Grim illusion disappear at the same time his blue form did. They both looked like normal humans and could walk in a crowd without attracting too much notice, especially with the basketball cap and sunglasses he'd acquired for himself.

"I'll scream bloody murder as soon as we're outside."

"No, you won't," he grinned as he made a zipping gesture with his free hand.

Hermione's lips seemed to seal themselves shut of their own accord and she panicked for a few seconds. until she realized she could breath well enough through her nose if she stopped hyperventilating. Not an easy feat upon understanding that not only was Loki leeching off of her magic to disguise his true self, but also to use as fuel for his own magic tricks. She was nothing more than a battery to him, and she had no choice but to comply for now. He had taken her freedom, her wand, and now her words, but she would bide her time and escape as soon as she could. Kick him in the crotch too, if she had the opportunity. It had worked on Grindelwald after all and she was quite fond of that memory. Maybe she could start a collection of super-villains balls-busting.

"What can you possibly find amusing in your position? " Loki asked, interrupting her daydream of a bent over, groaning dark wizard. "Never mind. Tss, women…"

Misogynistic too? Oh, he definitely deserved what was coming to him. She hoped they ran into the Hulk guy at some point. She'd heard the green giant had wiped the floors clean with his face, leaving a mewling ragdoll behind. Loki darted another sidelong glance at her, seeming disconcerted when her smile only widened.

Loki dragged her along. It was obvious he already had a plan he wanted to set into motion and whatever it was, it couldn't be good, for her or for the Avengers. Or the rest of the world for that matter. The man was a lunatic who wanted a crown and you just had to crack open a history book to know that never ended well. They were keeping to the less crowded streets of the city, but this being New-York, they were bound to come across some officers of the law sooner or later. As soon as she spotted the uniforms, Hermione dropped to the ground like so much dead weight and refused to budge despite Loki's tugs and hissed threats. The painful jabs of magic were harder to ignore but she powered through and only grimaced in pain, no sound making it out of her mouth.

"Is there a problem here?" one of the police officers asked, alerted by the commotion.

"No, no. No problem, officer. My sister is a bit simple in the head, doesn't understand she can't just sit in the middle of the street when she's tired. Do you, sweety?" he added in her direction, speaking loud and slow as if she was hard of hearing.

The officer looked down at her and she addressed him pleading eyes, shaking her head vehemently, and thrusting her hand up so he could see the handcuffs… which were gone… all he saw apparently was their linked hands and her erratic behaviour. He sighed.

"My sister has a kid like that. Here, I'll help you out," he added and pulled her up by one arm while Loki did the same on her other side, his fingers digging painfully through her jacket and into her flesh. "Be sure to use the crosswalk next time."

The police officer went on his way without a backwards glance while Loki dragged her into a small alley where he snapped the handcuffs back on.

"That was a stupid move, girl. I've been far too lenient on you. Enjoy the darkness."

Darkness is exactly what she got: she couldn't see anything, even though her eyes were wide open and she knew from just a few seconds ago that it was broad daylight outside. Loki had rendered her blind, the bastard, but as if that wasn't bad enough, and yes, maybe even in that state she could have tried something, but Loki had turned her deaf as well. Concentrating, she could only make out very loud noises, like the honk of a car nearby… a siren further away… the whole world muffled, out of reach, and her only link to it were the cold fingers gripping hers.

He'd made her dependant on him and for hours, she trailed after him, not knowing what he was doing or where they were. Exhaustion settled in her bones and she didn't think it was only due to the stress of depending on her captor to keep her from getting run over or falling down a hole. She felt drained to her very core, and was stumbling more and more, until she felt she might pass out on the spot.

When his hand finally untangled itself from her own, there wasn't an immediate relief from the darkness. Logical, she supposed. She could cast spells that would remain without her direct supervision, so why not Loki? Maybe their magic was more alike than she'd first thought.

Suddenly, sound flooded her ears again. It wasn't much: the soft hum of electricity, muffled voices of people talking outside and soft footsteps on a carpeted floor, an exhalation close by, the shift of fabric…

"Drink," Loki said and she lifted her hands, searching blindly until a cold glass was dropped into them, Loki's fingers closing around hers to make sure she didn't drop it.

He'd taken the handcuffs off again, although she couldn't tell when. The water was heavenly and the glass emptied all too soon. Hopefully, food would be the next order of business, but it's not like she could ask with her mouth magically zip-locked as it was.

Cold fingers brushed her cheek and her sight returned. She blinked against the harsh light, artificial and muted as it was, until she could finally take in her surroundings: a hotel room, without a doubt. A posh one at that, with its rich carpets and fancy furniture, but what caught her eye the most was the meal laid out in front of her. She thought she might have hallucinated the mouth watering aromas she was so hungry. She didn't even hear what Loki was saying over the growls of her stomach and she ate everything before he could take it away.

"Are you quite finished?" Loki asked when she had licked the plate clean. Figuratively speaking, she wasn't an animal, but she had been eating the food at Weasley-speed.

"Bathroom," she muttered and realized she could speak now and had been able to for a while now. "Bastard."

Loki rolled his eyes and Hermione took her time in the bathroom, deciding against taking a shower to piss him off only because she was too tired to care. She stumbled back out, ignored her captor and headed straight for the large bed, diving head first.

It felt like no sleep at all, but the insistent nudge of her shoulder woke her up enough that she opened one baleful eye. Blue. Loki. Right. She'd hoped that had been a nightmare, but this was to be day two of her captivity.

"Why do you still look like that?" he asked with a wave of his fingers at her.

Hermione looked down at herself, her normal human self, then patted her hair down because it had to be a right mess by now. She doubted Loki cared much about her bed-head and rumpled clothes though.

"Normal, you mean?"

Death's curse would not return if she did not use her magic and she wasn't sure she could even cast the tiniest little spell with how much she felt drained, even after a good night's sleep. Loki nodded at her question.

"I don't turn into a pumpkin until midnight," she said, enjoying the man's scowl.

As far as she was concerned, he could go and fork himself.

"Humans. You think you're so funny. Let it not be said I didn't try."

He was on her before she could jump out of the way and darkness surrounded her once more. Blind, deaf, mute: she only knew what was happening due to the cold fingers pulling her along. She wondered if he would drain her completely of her magic, if it was even possible, if she would become a squib, or die from it.

How long would it take.

How long had it been since that morning?

Two? Three hours? More?

Putting one foot in front of another was the only battle she was capable of fighting right now.