a/n: UPDATE: I rewrote chapter 29 last night so she falls asleep alone after their argument and then they dont talk again til the morning. It's mostly the same but you may want to reread it so this chapter makes more sense. Oh and I did put back the ring part. Sorry for any confusion but I just felt it needed rewriting. Also Chapter 31 is coming soon!

~o~

Her stomach sank as his unfathomably dark eyes stared down into her soul and he reached out his hand...to grab her hand. Clasping it firmly in his own.

Wait...he wanted to hold her hand?

She let out her breath.

Hermione felt a bit shocked that he had gone for her hand and not for something else.

She met his eye uncertainly. He did not look as if slept well. And truth be told, she hadn't either. She'd spent most of the night exhausted tossing and turning as her emotions swayed from humiliation, fear that he'd hurt her or rape her in the night, and just absolute rage that he'd tricked into thinking he cared whatsoever.

"Do v'you still hate me?" He drew circles on the back of her hand with his palm. It made her shiver that his touch could be deceptively soft and caring. When she knew him to be anything but those things. He was about as fluffy and soft as a Hungarian Horn Tail Dragon..and just as likely to burn her up.

She retracted her hand from his and looked away from him.

"Yes." And hate is the only thing I ever should have felt for you in the first place.

She thought bitterly of his words last night, of sex slaves and servants and war brides. Antonin spoke so casually of something so disgusting and morally abhorrent. She couldn't be tricked again by his mincing of words, playing up his tragic or otherwise trying to manipulate her when she really knew it was all a game to him. Cat and mouse, like he said. Except with a darker adult tone to this game.

"I think v'you misunderstood me last night, ptitsa."

"No, I heard you perfectly," she said numbly. And I fucking hate you. Hate even more that I ever felt anything for you. Or your stupid eyes. Hate your stupid hair. Hate your chest. Hate your laugh. Hate your stupid ideas. Hate your houses, both of them. Hate your country. Hate you. And can't wait to leave forever now that its the third day and if you're not a liar about letting me go too.

Antonin must've known how much he hurt her and how much she was seething in rage at him.

"It's not v'what you think." He tried to put his hand on her shoulder. She immediately moved away from him.

"Oh it's not? Then tell me what it is?" she hissed though her clenched jaw. Yet despite her rage, tears still managed to slip through the cracks of her facade.

For she really had been taken in by him. She really had felt something there for him. Though it was all a fucking lie.

"Can v'you listen? I know v'you are angry."

"So you do have more range than a teaspoon," she mumbled though she had no desire to either speak to him or ever see him again. At least he realized how deeply fucking offended and furious she was. It would have taken Ron at least a week before he realized he'd said something terribly wrong to hurt her. Let alone try to correct things.

"Please don't take offense at my v'words."

"Why should I listen to even one word you say, let alone believe one word," she said more to herself than him.

Yet he heard her and understood what she meant.

"Because v'you care."

She tried to laugh at first. Because it was so pathetic.

But instead it made her cry, because it was true.

She began to cry again, fresh wounds opening like this did last night when she felt betrayed by him.

She did care. She cared what Antonin Dolohov, the Death Eater, her captor, thought and did. Though it made absolutely no sense that she should long to do anything except run away from him or kill him, she couldn't kill the other part of her that wanted to do other things to Antonin. Whether bashing his head against the wall for offending her or kissing him madly because Merlin dammit it was the most amazing physical experience she ever had and it electrified her to be near him.

Even now as she cried and hated on him. She couldn't quite feign indifference. How absolutely ridiculous.

What had she come to...

He sat down on the bed beside her and tried to grab her hand again. "It vis true what I said. I am not like the other men. I joined the Death Eaters only for love of a v'woman, my Oliviana. I v'would not use the war to hurt v'women."

Hermione sniffed back her wet tears and runny nose. How she wished she could believe his words. But she had to be realistic. "Yet you've stood by and watched, likely, as countless other muggle and muggleborn women were raped or taken?"

Antonin wearliy sighed. "Da, so, maybe that vis my mistake. I did not stop it. But I did not v'want any part of it."

"Guilty by third-degree, a bystander," Hermione muttered in fury.

How could he have behaved so badly and excused himself? Did it even matter if he was not a rapist if he watched or cheered on likely as other wizards did it?

"Hey, I am v'not like those men. I have not raped v'you have I? Ptitsa, look around v'you, this cabin is empty, I don't have a harem of sex slaves. I'm not that bad a man as you imagine. I want only v'you...and I am v'waiting for you to come to me willingly."

"It's not going to happen," Hermione said obstinately, though she wasn't sure of the veracity of her statement anymore. "You would have to rape me by sundown if you want me to be your wife. And then I would hate you forever, so you would have to divorce me because I would make your life miserable."

Antonin cursed and swore in Russian.

"I am not v'a monster!" He shook her by the shoulders. "But I do v'want to be v'your busband and I do know v'you v'want me too though v'you hide and push me away on purpose!"

"Why do you think I push you away Toni?" she hissed and turned around so she could stare daggers at him. "Why and how was I supposed to seriously consider marrying you when you never even took me on a first date or serenaded me first or tried to get to know each other? You just jumped on the gun, using the excuse of your culture to try to swamp and trap me in this marriage."

Antonin brushed her wet hair away from her salty face and lifted her chin so she was forced to look into her eyes.

"V'we have gotten to know each other, I've told v'you some of mine stories, and v'you told me v'your stories. Our first date v'was by the fire, as I nestled you with my body's heat to keep v'you alive. Our second date was that night with the dinner I made specially for v'you and how v'you cried over the rabbit. Our third date was the pizza and trip to St. Petersburg where I introduced you to my family's house and what has gone wrong in my country. I have gotten to know v'you 'Ermione Granger and I know we are meant to be married. You are beautiful and it's not just your body or your face, but your soul I want. You are so much like Oliviana, I'm falling in love with you like I did her. I have been v'with many v'other women, but I have not been in love again, until now, v'with v'you. I v'would only marry for love." He took out a ring from his pocket. "Vis belonged to her, I would like v'you to have it, or I v'will get you another even bigger ring if you don't like it."

He held out a ring to her.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. A moment ago she felt certain Antonin was the man she hated most on earth and that he was just trying to get in her pants and use her as a war bride. But then he had spoken the most sincere and romantic words that perhaps had ever been spoken to her or any woman, and she realized at this moment, she loved him. She was in love with Antonin Dolohov, the Death Eater, fully and completely and madly now. Perhaps she needed to be checked into a mental ward for it, since it went against everything she stood for and all circumstances by which he had connived to bring her to this point yet...She was madly in love with him, spellbound by his eyes and lips, and that is why it had shattered her heart there so much when she feared he might not be genuine. Or that he might be a bastard who went around using muggle and muggleborn women to his gain...

However, she saw how sincere he was towards her now and she didn't feel like fighting it anymore. She was definitely still against the marriage thing, that was absurd getting married at nineteen to a man she just met who was also a bit crazy. But she was sure, if only by the burning in her heart, she wanted to be with Dolohov right now and explore where this went, especially if it meant being touched by his hot, magical lips.

"V'well?"

Her eyes darted between the gleaming ring and his uncertain eyes; he never seemed more vulnerable than he did now. His cruel facade having been dropped for this short moment...for her to take or see his soft underbelly. And how she wished to reach back out to him, with her own vulnerability, but she had never been able to quite let go completely of her self control.

Hermione stared at the ring the longest time, uncertain whether she could take it or not.

There is only one thing she knew for certain. "Just kiss me, you great oaf."

~O~

a/n: Please review if you're excited about the next chapter! Yeah almost finished! and a lemon maybe?