Hermione minced out the words cautiously, not fully trusting that the icy blonde wouldn’t capriciously decide to punish her for speaking. Her tongue felt foreign in her mouth, especially when she tried to tackle the sibilant ’s’ sounds, a nasty self-satisfied smirk playing on her captor’s face recognising her struggle. She responded with a patronising "Good Girl", casting her eyes back to her parchment paper. Hermione couldn’t understand the frisson of happiness that washed over her from this faint praise, she focused her attention on ignoring Narcissa’s snide remarks about her intellect.