~o~

"V'would you like to see St. Petersburg?" Antonin asked with one brow raised. A cheeky grin on his face, as if he were pulling an ace card out of his sleeve.

Hermione stared at him dumbfounded. This was the last thing she expected out of him...'It's almost as if he's trying to be romantic,' Hermione realized with horror. She wasn't used to such behavior coming from Antonin Dolohov; it was rather jarring. Shouldn't he go back to ordering her around and horrifying her by exploiting her boundaries?

Yet how could she not agree? It could be her last chance to escape. She needed to get out of this cabin. And it would be a sad tale indeed, if she escaped Russia tomorrow, only ever having seen the inside of Dolohov's remote cabin and some empty fields.

Without even thinking of what she was agreeing to, Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, I would like to go." When she saw Antonin's eyes brighten as if this meant she was forgiving him. She quickly frowned. "I mean, I wouldn't mind!" she added more harshly to remind him that she still hated his guts for earlier.

"Good!" Antonin said brusquely, her hatred falling on deaf ears. "V'we go now!" He grabbed her by the hand as his right hand shuffled through his jacket pocket and he walked them towards the front door.

"Wait right now? This instant?" She was wearing a damn pajama shirt with no underwear or pants. Wouldn't she freeze? And also look ridiculous, like a literal
sex slave, to passerby? Which perhaps she was at this point...or who knows. Antonin was unpredictable.

"Won't I be cold?"

As Antonin swung open the front door of the cabin and the knee high snow presented itself, Antonin threw her a resentful glance over his shoulder. "Okay, I like such outfit on v'you..."

"Oh thanks!" She knew he didn't provide proper clothes this whole time on purpose! Ugh! The pig. "Please I'm cold." She shivered and chattered her teeth dramatically, though she didn't have to pretend she was freezing. She literally was and they hadn't even stepped out in the snow yet to apparate.

Antonin chuckled before reaching into his pocket and removing a small ermine scarf. He wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders before pointing his wand at it. The scarf transfigured into a large fur coat, which was snug enough. But Antonin also waved his wand at her shirt which transfigured into a pretty enough, and warm, purple robes.

"Good?" Antonin asked.

She nodded and he didn't waste one second more to pull her outdoors, slam the cabin's door shut and then remove a portkey from his pocket.

She didn't have time to ask what kind of portkey it was or make plans of how she could steal it from him later, before they disappeared from the spot.

~O~

They arrived again with a flurry of magic and twists of her stomach...no doubt churning the pizza she already had enjoyed a bit too much of earlier. She hoped she didn't throw up.

Hermione recovered for a second...apparation and portkeys always made her slightly nauseous for a few seconds, before she put her feet firmly back on ground.

She stared at the snow beneath her feet for a moment before she noticed there was actual cobblestones underneath the snow here...and civilization.

"Welcome to the v'old Russian capital," Antonin said proudly, as he pulled her up by her elbow.

Though she grew up near and around London, Hermione could not say she was disappointed by the sight of wizarding St. Petersburg. The quaint spirals and mushroom-shaped turets of the buildings had an almost fairytale look to them, like they'd been transported straight from the imagination of the Nutcracker.

With the snow gently falling down on the glowing city, lit with purple and yellow lights, she surely could expect the Sugarplum fairy or tin soldiers to come
marching up the cobblestone streets.

Hermione looked back at Antonin's eyes. There was a serenity in his eyes that she hadn't seen before, almost relaxed. Snowflakes fell into his long dark hair and his skin looked so porcelain against the cold night air.

"It's beautiful...Like you," she couldn't help thinking though she did not want to give him the satisfaction of saying such traitorous thoughts out loud.

"Ummm...it's alright," she said instead and brushed her hair back behind her ears.

"Da," Antonin grinned. "Let me show v'you the way to the old palaces and then my ancestral home."

Apparently, no amount of her feigned disinterest could discourage him. Dolohov showed a pride here she had never seen before in the rough manners she had grown accustomed to in his cabin.

"V'would v'you like to see Winter Palace?"

"Is it made out of snow?" she joked. Though she knew from the history books that it was made of brick and mortar.

"V'you'll see."

He enthusiastically whisked them to the impressive Winter Palace, whose ornate interiors looked straight out of an Anne Karenina film. White and gold pillars and paintings decorated every inch of the dream like building.

"Can we be here?" Hermione asked in apprehension as her hand traced along a gilded chair in the Tzar's old study. It was surely after hours, like 9pm or whatever timezone in St. Petersburg, shouldn't such a place be closed to the public? Antonin and her were the only ones here.

"Don't v'worry this v'is in the muggle part," Antonin informed her. "V'you didn't think I followed the rules, did v'you?"

"No. of course not. How stupid of me. You're a Death Eater."

"Da!" He rolled his eyes.

A small smile traced along her lips.

Damn it. She hoped he hadn't seen her smile.

She still wanted to stay mad at him. She couldn't let his smouldering eyes or his two small acts of kindness, pizza and St. Petersburg, make her forget the absolute boar he could be.

His behaviour earlier today of making her polish his boots naked...had been so reviling and demeaning...and dammit, for some reason, still made her equally furious and hot under the collar. No man had ever demeaned or ordered her around like that...It had been so unsettling.

A scarlet blush spread over her face.

Antonin noticed her discomfort. "Are v'you okay, ptitsa? Maybe v'you are too v'warm?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." She scratched nervously at the collar of the fur coat as she stared at some of the large oil paintings on the wall of deceased nobles. "Are you related to any of these people?"

"No." Antonin sounded insulted. "These are mudak muggles."

"So you don't actually care about the Russian royals?" She wondered why he bothered to show her this place at all. Why didn't he stuck to the magical districts of St. Petersburg?

"I do care a lot!" he said a bit too aggressively.

She raised her brows at him.

"Why?"

"Because they v'were murdered too."

~O~

a/n: The winter palace is real! never been there but its looks really pretty in the pictures

anyone watch anna karenina? :) thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and read, i think only 6 or so more chapters til this is done!