a/n: Thanks so much for reading and to those who took the time to review. By the way, I highly recommend y'all check out a documentary on youtube or elsewhere about what happened in Russian history, like starvation, genocide it's very interesting and succinct part of history not talked about that often...though warning it is depressing! I think it's still important to know and learn to prevent again :(

Also someone commented they "hated" antonin's russian accent the way I write it. Sorry! I do not know eastern european culture or the accent that well, but I thought he should have some accent rather than none like in other fanfictions. That's just my personal take on the character, take it or leave it, i'm sorry my version can't be pleasing to y'all :) I did do research though, like I said, to learn about the country and what his background/viewpoints might be. Do your own research/accent of Antonin how you like. Thanks.

~O~

"The Czar was not a perfect ruler. But he was the rightful ruler of Russia. He v'was a kind family man, perhaps his head v'was more distracted with enjoying life with his beautiful wife and children, than his duties. Maybe that v'was his flaw. V'ut he 'vwas not evil. Yet he v'was murdered. His entire family lined up and shot, put down like dogs, down to the last child, Princess Anna, as his people cheered on. All for a lie...they told the peasants they'd have a better life after the royal family was gone. But instead it was tyranny and millions of them starved to death under their new ruler...never had Russia seen more blood...including magic blood."

Hermione felt herself gasping. How fucking sad. Why did they have to kill the children too? What kind of justice was that? What kind of revolution was based on blood?

Suddenly the Winter Palace felt haunted.

The atmosphere and portraits that lined the walls of the palace painted a picture of domestic bliss, where she could imagine the pitter-patter of the children's feet and the Czar writing peacefully at his desk, or reading a book as his wife needle-pointed, yet it had ended so badly...and in so much blood of everyone.

"V'You see princess," Antonin rubbed her cheek, "naivete has a price."

"I'm sorry." She wasn't really sure what else to say but she felt uncomfortable with the way he held her, so she pushed his hand away. She did not trust this intimacy so close, so soon. Was he trying to trick her by showing her his sympathetic side? Hermione felt her skepticism return.

Yet he did not try to touch her again.

His eyes seemed so forlorn and dark all of a sudden. Though she still wasn't sure why he, a Death Eater, of all people, was upset about something concerning muggles. Didn't he hate all muggles? Wasn't he trying to kill muggles with Voldemort? Why did he mourn the story of the murdered princess Anna and her siblings? The naive Czar that cared more about his family and was murdered by his people?

She breathed out heavily, wishing she could sort out her own feelings, which felt as tumultuous and confusing as Russia's churning, brimstone past. "But this is all long past. You can't possibly thing muggles or mudak or whatever are up to this now, surely?"

"Can't they?" Antonin growled as he turned his dark eyes from the gilded chair of the murdered Czar to her face. His eyes glazed as if concentrating on something very far off and yet close at the same time. The brunette wondered, not for the first time, if he was temporarily confusing her with Oliviana. Or just thinking of Oliviana. And it made him seem very far distant, though he stood right next to her, he felt very far apart and she realized she'd probably would never understand him completely.

"V'hou foolish girl. Oliviana said the same thing," he whispered.

Her suspicions were confirmed. And she felt a dull drop in her stomach. When would he ever stop comparing her to his first love or wife or whoever she was? Not that she was about to become his second wife, however, she felt about him. Or his abs. Damn him. The stupid jerk was almost obsessed with the past, and used it as his justification to hate muggles. As if he somehow had the higher ground.

"You can't compare the past to the future, as if it's the same thing, as if it's inevitable to repeat. That is just absurd and patently false-"

He cut her off. "V'you'd be surprised how history repeats itself, ptitsa!"

He glared at her as if he'd never seen someone so ignorant in his life. And this just pissed Hermione equally off, as if SHE were an ignoramus. She knew history, she only had a 4.0 Owl average in every damn history class. Surely he couldn't treat her grasp of history so dismissively. As is she had two IQ points to string together, meanwhile Antonin thought himself a real historian.

"You know, I do know history," she said stiffly.

"'Da do v'hou now?"

"Yes I do!"

"Oh then v'you think the Ministry is doing good job?"

"I don't know what the Ministry is up to, but surely it's a lot better than Voldemort! A complete genocidal maniac!"

"Stupid girl! V'You only know what the media tells v'you!"

"No, I have met Voldemort myself and he's a total vile turd!"

Antonin looked like he wanted to slap her. "V'hou will not use such language about the Dark Lord when v'you are around me, understand ptitsa?"

Oh did swearing offend him now? Good, she hoped that provoked him. She was tired of him trying to sway her with sad tales of past atrocities when he participated in present day atrocities. "I will use any bloody language I want Anton! He's a maniac and I can't believe you serve him!"

Antonin narrowed his eyes.

She held her ground. "You talk of foolishness, yet you serve one so horrible, I can't believe you would dare to bring up what happened in Russia without irony!"

Antonin laughed contemptuously at her. "V'what do you know, ptitsa? V'You think v'you know the Dark Lord? V'You think v'you know me?" He circled around her. "You don't even know the touch of a man."

She felt her blood boil...

"V'You know nothing, ptitsa. Except v'your books and its lies."

"They're not lies." Yet her face burned and tears threatened to fill up her eyes.

"I lived through history." He stroked her cheek. "I know they are much lies than truth."

"It can't be," she whispered. Though it was not the first time someone had accused her of basing all her knowledge on books instead of personal experience and there was something raw and cutting about his words, a raw edge of something surfacing finally to the top where she could see him as he truly was...but did she want to actually gaze into the real Antonin Dolohov's eyes?

"Look at me," he ordered her softly.

She refused, feeling tears actually fill her eyes. Though she couldn't articulate why. Why she didn't want to see.

Finally he grabbed her by the shoulders, his dark stony black eyes meeting her, perhaps naive, brown ones.

"Do I look evil to v'you?"

She couldn't answer him.

All she knew is that she stared into the eyes of the man she had known only a few days.

Antonin shoved his lips against hers and she couldn't quite think as his soft lips, hard tongue and grating stubble rubbed against her and temporarily shrouded her voice and spirit. But then she remembered Voldemort's evil red eyes and the master he served.

"Don't touch me. I can't trust you!" Though she wondered if her own words contradicted the bellying trust she sometimes felt around him. That he might not be lying or a totally evil...That was not saying much. Yet he had not hurt her yet. Perhaps he could be given some benefit of the doubt...but still very little. He was still a Death Eater, whatever else she felt personally about him.

"The Ministry has been infiltrated by the same agents that took down Russia. V'your friend serves something that will cause more harm."

"You sound paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid," he practically growled. "I've just around longer than v'you have!"

"It's not my fault I'm not as old as you!" she couldn't help laughing though as a wizard, he didn't look much older than thirty five.

Antonin glared at her and she glared right back as if to say 'what are you staring at'. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"V'we're going home!" he said, grabbing her by the hand and leading them out of the illustrious but haunted Winter Palace.

"That cabin is not and will never be my home!"

"V'well see about that. V'one more day!"

Yes, one more day, and one more night, she thought. Then rolled her eyes. Surely she could keep both his advances and herself in check before then?

After all, it wasn't as if Harry and everyone on the good side wasn't hanging on the balance, right?

The good side, she had to reinforce to herself.

Everything Antonin Dolohov said had to be a lie, right? He was trying to manipulate her.

Hold your ground, Hermione, she reminded herself. I can't trust one word he says...

~o~

a/n: Thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed/faved! :) I will be updating more regularly and I'm sorry if this chapter sucked but I tried to imagine a comprehensible backstory to a Russian death eater and why he might think or 'know' Voldemort is better than whatever is going on in the Ministry.
I mean the Ministry has been corrupt before, especially when they said Harry was lying about Voldemort being back. Though Antonin is saying they
are working against voldemort, not with him. WHAT do you think?
xoxo