They eat; Malfoy and the others with plates and cutlery at the table, and Hermione the occasional scrap from Malfoy's fingers as she kneels on the hard floor. She licks his fingers clean with small, subdued swipes of her tongue, as a slave would, stomach twisting with something pervertedly good when he praises her softly and pets a hand through her hair. One of the American wizards is seated beside Malfoy, and leers down at Hermione as they eat. He reaches out with a small piece of meat, offering it down to her, and unsure of what to do she turns her head away, shrinking against Malfoy. "Be polite, Draco. Share the Mudblood whore with our guests," Voldemort ordered in a falsely light tone, curving a vicious smile at Hermione. Malfoy pauses for the barest fraction of a second, and then inclines his head in assent.