"My dear Draco," Voldemort croons with affection then, all false-faced and cruel. "We are glad to see you are feeling well enough to grace us with your presence, aren't we, Nagini?" The snake slithers up out of the shadows beside Voldemort's chair, coiling around it, its head resting on Voldemort's shoulder as it hisses. Hermione's knees hurt, grinding into the hard floor, abraded and bruising from the abuse they have suffered on the long crawl from Malfoy's suite. "I am relieved that you have seen the folly of your earlier...selfishness, and disobedience, and that another punishment shall not be necessary. I know you want to keep the whore to yourself, Draco, but it isn't polite not to share."