Have an Ice Pop
Summary: First rule of the Lestrange House: don't bite.
For the "Daily Weird Prompt Thing" also known as, the Speed-writing Competition. Prompt used: a chair.
She tugged at her bindings once more, checking if they had loosened after sitting here in this dank room for nearly six hours. The humidity hadn't helped in the least though. In fact, Hermione was sure the rope had gotten tighter since when she first woke up in this position.
With her legs parallel with those of a chair, rope winding around the two, each one a separate piece. Her arms were in the same situation, pressed down into the wood of the chair. What they did with her hands was more intricate though: a ribbon wrapped around each individual finger so many times that she couldn't get them to bend, and after that a thin rope wrapped around her whole hand.
It was clear to her they didn't want her casting any spells. The wand she could usually feel sitting snugly in her pocket was gone. Instead that rough rope wrapped around her bare thighs and beneath the chair. It certainly made it more difficult to try and hop the chair over to the door. The stairs made that near impossible, and - once she made it from the corner to the center of the room - the chair had become bolted to the floor.
So now she was stuck here, literally. In a room that smelled of the sea. With one last piece of rope wrapped around her torso, up over her shoulders, and back around to meet at her midriff. She had to wonder if that one was really necessary or if her captors had just ended up with extra rope.
The click of the deadbolt made her look up, eyes narrowing as the door swung open.
She instantly recognized the dark hair, pale skin, the sharp curve of the man's cheekbones. "Rabastan," his name came out in something between a hiss and a growl.
"Where you expecting someone else? This is my house, but then again you already knew that when you decided to break in, didn't you?" He stepped off the last stair, just looking at her. "I see you got yourself stuck. There's a reason the stairs are aligned with the center of the room, you know. I thought you would have figured that out beforehand." When she remained silent he frowned. "Snape told me you had a know-it-all attitude once. Where is it?"
"Oh, I just didn't want to interrupt you," she replied, voice sweet as honey. "You seemed to be enjoying the sound of your own voice so much and it would have been rude of me considering I broke into your house. What sort of guest would I be if I didn't let the host finish his speech?"
His lips pressed into a thin line as he took a step forward. "You're not a guest."
"No," she snapped, teeth flashing in the light that filtered in from a thin window near the ceiling. "I'm a prisoner. Otherwise you wouldn't have gone through so much trouble to tie me up after poisoning me!"
"You poisoned yourself."
"You're the one that set up the trap with the poison. What made you put it in a place like that though is beyond me. Anyone could happen across it. Don't you think of the safety of your own guests? If an infant, a pet, or even-"
Her chin was jerked up sharply, snapping her jaw shut as she continued to glare at him. She was lucky she had managed not to bite her tongue off. "Shut up, mudblood. Before I make you wish the potion had killed you." His grip tightened on her chin for a second. "Tell me what you were looking for."
When he let go of her Hermione rocked forward in the chair, sinking her teeth around one of his fingers.
She was aware of a shout, the taste of blood on her lips. The feel of the warm liquid on her cheek from where he had slapped her with the wounded hand. "Bitch. You want to act like a fucking animal? You can be an animal."
"Hrmph." She choked on the taste of metal in her mouth for a moment as he forced some sort of ring between her lips, feeling a softer fabric than rope on either side of her mouth a moment later. It took her mind a second to process that it was leather, and by then he had secured the gag around the back of her head.
"This should keep you quiet, seeing as I will be having guests over soon enough and can't have you shouting." With those words she felt something cold on her tongue, being forced into her mouth through the ring. She could see him cast a few spells on the ice and the gag before he was leaning forward, breath lingering on her ear. "Don't worry it's not cold enough to effect your body temperature, plus it won't melt now. And before you ask, it's a replica of my cock. I'm sure you'll have enough time to practice sucking on it before I get back."