THIRTY-SIX
Hermione let her eyes drift closed, shaking her head as she allowed herself to backpedal a step. Her arms fell to her sides and she noticed—gratefully—that Antonin didn't resist her attempt to put a little distance between them just now.
"Honestly, I can't answer that, not now." She shrugged. "I can't know if it would be me answering, or—"
"Or our 'whatever it is.'" Antonin smirked, nodding. "That is problematic, yeah."
Now that she could breathe without being in danger of their bodies brushing every time she inhaled, she could remember. She could think just a little clearer.
Drawing her wand, she cast a Lumos. She was braced for the wash of illumination revealing him in the darkness, but not for the way his crimson eyes were already trained on hers.
A pleasant shiver threatened, teasing along her spine for a flickering heartbeat, but she gave herself a shake, pushing the sensation away so she could focus. And just over his gaze waiting for hers so expectantly—knowing he would capture hers.
"Listen, there's something I wanted to tell you, not about … this, us, I mean." Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. She could never remember sounding like an idiot so effortlessly before.
Antonin ignored the sudden and overpowering urge to gather her into his arms and make her forget her distress. Yes, this was problematic. And vexing. Even more so since neither of them could seem to find it in themselves to hate or be angry over their circumstances.
"Go on, I'm listening," he said, his voice low, solemn.
With a nod, she told him what she'd experienced after she'd left last night. The impression of being watched creeping over her, the inexplicable feeling of something she could not see standing right before her.
The screaming.
His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing in speculation as he echoed, "Screaming?"
She offered another nod. "Human, but not. Just … not …." She desperately wished she had a better way of describing it, but every time she recalled the sound, the feeling, she found herself at a complete loss for words. "Nothing I could say would do it justice," she said, the words spilling out in a whisper as she realized it to be true.
The clasp of Antonin's fingers around hers startled her, but only for the barest moment before the mere touch of his hand on hers calmed her just as quickly.
"Take me there."
Her eyelids fluttered in a series of rapid blinks as though she were uncharacteristically struggling to understand plain English. "Where there?"
"To where you had this encounter. The exact spot."
"All right … suppose this is as good a time as any to see if magic affects you." Just as she was about to pull him side-along—even aware that they both knew the way to Oksana's house, Apparition was simply faster—she paused. "Wait. What if someone sees us? Your eyes aren't exactly subtle."
Antonin shook his head. "Cross that bridge if we come to it. I'm far more concerned about you right now."
Refusing to let herself be distracted by the warm rush she felt at his show of protectiveness, Hermione Apparated.
Once again she was at a loss for words over how relieved she was to appear in the dark beside Oskana's little house, Antonin's hand still around hers.
