"Mudblood," the Dark Lord says, all dark, sadistic amusement, and Hermione wants nothing more than to turn and run. She keeps her head down, bowing it in deference, afraid to meet his eyes because unlike Malfoy her Occlumency skills are pitiful. "You will hurt him until I order you to halt. And do not be afraid, Mudblood; your Master understands that this is the price to pay for his ownership of you, and he will not punish you for what you do to him here today, understood?" She nods quickly, watching from behind her ragged hair as Voldemort's gaze turns to Malfoy. "It wouldn't be any fun if she was too afraid to harm you, now would it, my boy?"