a/n: Sorry decided to switch some scenes around, this chapter is mostly same as previous version. The old dialogue where he gets romantic will be edited+relocated to chapter 30 because i decided he was being too mushy and it would be out-of-character for him to give her a ring. So sorry if anyone liked that version, but nah hermione aint getting a ring actually though he will still be apologetic and say some romantic stuff i hope?

~o~

Antonin shrugged his shoulders and looked away from her, his body language seeming to display embarrassment. Was he really embarrassed he'd done something kind for her? Shouldn't he be proud? Why was he so reticent to admit any soft or kind side to his rugged personality?

"It's true isn't you? You saved my life."

Antonin exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose as if getting a headache. "I'd prefer ptitsa, if v'you not say that to anyone. V'it could cost me a lot of trouble if Voldemort v'were to find out I did that, on purpose."

"Of course, I understand." She tucked her hair behind her ears and caught him adjusting his belt. His wand was looped in the leather strap between his belt and his pants again. His finger tapped rhythmically against the black leather of his belt as if warning her. "I won't say anything."

"Good."

"Uhm, but isn't keeping me now going to cause you trouble with the Dark Lord? Shouldn't you be glad to be rid of me?"

He grunted and furrowed his eyebrows at her. "I think the Dark Lord v'would be more mad if I let v'you go."

"Fair enough." She gulped then stared down at her knees before looking up at him again. "But how can you justify keeping me for yourself when I'm Harry's friend?"

The Russian batted a hand at her. "No, he doesn't know or care v'who or v'what the Death Eaters rape or take as war bride. As long as v'we show no mercy."

"Really?" Hermione felt her jaw unclick as the reality of what he said set in her mind. Voldemort allowed them to treat muggleborn women as easy pickings and didn't care what they did with them. Well, why was she even surprised his answer could be so bleak when he bloody abducted her with a sack. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, to try to hide the tears that wanted to form in her eyes. She'd never felt this humiliated in her life, perhaps equally as humiliated as when she knelt naked at his boots to polish them. "So I'm just a war bride to you or capture you can rape, is that it? Another muggle or muggleborn you can toy around with for your amusement?"

"No! Ermione! Don't even put that in v'your head. I'm just telling v'you, it happens a lot. All the Death Eaters have servants or sex slaves that they've taken. But v'you and me?" He waved his hand to gesture both her and himself. "V'we are not like that. I am not like that, Ermione. I only take v'willingly."

"No, I think I heard you loud and clear." She stood up shakily to leave. Tears pricked at her eyes. "I better go to sleep," she said quickly and exited the room before he could see how much his words had hurt her. Not that she should care. He'd always been an absolute bastard from the start. A fucking Death Eater. Why had she ever, ever, even thought for a second he was remotely human or kind? So what if he had saved her life, once, that didn't mean anything, surely.

"You absolute fool!" She tore at her hair and buried her face in the pillow, wanting so bad to slap herself or shake sense into herself. "Here I am falling in love with this man or monster. Yet I am nothing more than a notchcount or warprize of another of Voldemort's raids! I must be the stupidest woman alive."

How many slaves or sex servants had he had before her? Could she actually trust anything he said? What if he killed her tomorrow instead of letting her go? This could all be a psychological game to him. Fucking hell. She should've never listened to or trusted one word out of his mouth.

She cried harder than she had cried in a long time as she buried her face into her pillow. Wet tears and a bit of snot stuck her hair to her face and truly felt at her lowest point. So ridiculous in even the clothes he gave her. She didn't even have an ounce of dignity left, he'd seen it all and even fooled her into thinking he cared. How could she have been so fucking stupid. Antonin had even warned her about the price of naivete.

Though she tried to smother the sound of her cries with her hands and the pillow, she must've cried loud enough that Antonin heard her.

For a moment, she thought she heard Antonin standing outside the bedroom door listening to her and mumbling something in Russian..

She braced herself for a fight, imagining that he might try to touch her or kiss her or seduce her in some way as they wrestled across the bed.

And a fight he definitely would get though it was near 2 am and she was tired. She wanted to claw his eyes out, rip at his hair and beat at his chest because she hated...she hated what he'd done to her, how much she suddenly cared for his opinion and she hated, most of all, how much she craved his touch though it made no rational sense to want him To want such a bastard as any type of partner.

She rolled over, rubbed at her face and waited for him to barge in.

To her shock, Antonin did not disturb her.

He did not barge in like he had when he was drunk the other night.

Instead she heard his footsteps walk away from the door and she breathed out in relief.

Perhaps he had taken pity on her cries and left her alone.

Or perhaps his amusement with his new toy had run dry. She was too difficult for his liking and he had fallen asleep waiting for her.

Either way she was relieved and she was no longer interested in what he thought of her in any way. He was a complete bastard and she only felt embarrassment that she'd ever let herself think anything else.

~o~

The light of dawn barely touched the bedroom where she had fallen asleep alone when the door creaked open.

Bleary eyed, she rolled around in the bed to see Antonin coming towards her in the semi-darkness. The thin curtains blotting out the burning crimson of the rising sun over the snowy landscape.

He stood over her for a moment, assessing if she was awake among the messy strewn blankets where she lay.

Oh no. Would he...?

Her heart picked up its beat, readying itself for the battle of her life. She didn't want to be raped by Antonin Dolohov, no matter what she felt physically for him, she couldn't allow that without a struggle and it terrified her that it was dawning of the third day and still nothing had happened.

Yet he said he wouldn't. Was that to confuse her only before he raped her in the end and never let her go?

Her mouth fell open as he sat down on the bed and stared at her with those unfathomably dark eyes.

His hand reached out for her and she braced herself...

~o~