I'll Make You An Offer

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/31403039.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy
Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Hogwarts
Head Boys & Head Girls, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, Facials,
Bargaining, Inspired by Fanart
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2021-05-20 Words: 3,251 Chapters: 1/1
 I'll Make You An Offer
by Musyc

Summary

A very rare book is ruined. Hermione and Draco make a deal.

Notes

I've been hanging out with a group of ENABLERS and I was given huge pleading eyes until I
surrendered and wrote this fic. "Fine, just a quickie", I said. Should have known.

See the end of the work for more notes

Hermione closed the window against the storm rolling over the castle, and returned to the
sofa near the fireplace. She pulled a pair of thin white gloves from her bookbag, her attention
half on the ancient book on the lectern set on the low table, and half on Draco, who was
pulling a bottle of Firewhiskey out of his cloak near the door. "Malfoy, get that away from
here. Madam Pince was very clear that she only trusted me to have this book out of the
Restricted Section because I am, quote, the most responsible student to ever enter the—"

"Oh, for god's sake, Granger." Draco swirled the Firewhiskey bottle as he leaned over the
back of the sofa. "I'm nowhere close to your precious book. I'm taking this into my room, just
give me a minute. You're at more risk of shedding hair all over it than I am spilling on it."

"I have to wear these charmed gloves to even touch it. I promised I would be very careful."
She pushed at his arm. "You shouldn't have that at school. It's against the rules. How did you
get it in here, anyway?"

"I have sneaked a date into my room while you were on this very sofa. One little bottle of
Firewhiskey is no challenge."

She knew he brought at least one girl into the Heads' dorm every few weeks. She'd tried to
forget it, but they shared a bedroom wall. The sounds he made echoed through her dreams for
several nights afterward.

"Also against the rules," she muttered.

Draco gripped the heel of the bottle in his fist and held it in front of her. "Have a drink.
Maybe it'll relax something in you. You're wound tighter than a 'claw on exam day. It's just a
book."

"It is a rare and expensive holographic codex with illuminations and hand-colored woodcut
plates and there are less than a hundred of them in existence." She shoved his arm again. "I
can't afford to replace this. You possibly couldn't afford to replace this. I can only have it for
forty-eight hours and I've used five already, so get away!"

He leaned over her, his chest against her head, and stretched his arm out to wiggle the bottle
between her and the lectern where the book rested. "Oh, no," he said. "The longer I stand
here with this, the less time you have to read. What a tragedy."

Hermione hunched away from the heat of his body. She pushed at his arm several more
times, trying to be both firm and careful. "Get away, Malfoy. You're too close."

"What's the matter? Afraid I'm going to have a feel while I'm like this?" His free hand settled
on her shoulder. "Or afraid that you'd like it if I did?"

"Stop that," she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed.

He lowered his voice. "If my wet dreams are anything to go by, you definitely would." His
fingers slid down the curve of her collar.
He brushed a spot on her neck that sent lightning down her spine. Hermione flung her head
up and cracked into Draco's sternum; he lost his grip on the bottle.

They watched the bottle arc up and spin, Firewhiskey cascading down, before it hit the
lectern and shattered.

Hermione yanked the Firewhiskey-soaked book off the lectern, shooting to her feet and
staring at it in horror. One of the delicately-tinted illustrations had smudged and run, the
colors melting together. The ink smeared and spidered across the sodden pages.

Firewhiskey dripped off the cover as Hermione held it out. She lifted her head to stare at
Draco. "You. You did this."

Rubbing his chest, Draco shook his head. "You hit me. Hardly my fault."

"I told you to get away. I said to back off, take that bottle somewhere else! Then you groped
me and—and. And now look. Look at this!" She stared at the book, eyes sparking with anger
and frustration. "It's ruined."

Draco scoffed. "I barely touched you. And it's not ruined. Do you have any idea how many
books my family's librarians have had to repair over the centuries? All sorts of charms for it.
Could have every speck of ink back where it belongs in a trice."

Hermione gingerly tried to turn one of the pages and it wrinkled in her hand, ink smearing on
her fingers. "Get me those charms. I can't afford to replace this! If I can repair it, maybe
Pince won't have me expelled. You owe me."

Draco watched her for a moment, then smiled. "What'll you give me for it?"

"Nothing! This is your fault, Malfoy."

"Then I guess you're getting expelled."

"I'll turn you in. You'll get kicked out for having alcohol. And for having a girl in your room.
And for touching me like you just did."

"Go ahead. Report me if you want. Not going to hurt me one bit. First, this bottle was in the
hands of a couple of third years and therefore already on school grounds. As Head Boy I have
the right to confiscate anything and dispose of it as I see fit. I didn't actually take a drink, so
you can't prove I was going to. Second, boys are not permitted in girls' rooms but not the
other way around, so my date was completely within the rules and you can't speak to a single
thing we may or may not have done. Third, I touched your collar, not you. You're the one
who flinched and caused the accident. Nothing I've done is an expel-worthy offense. Without
proof, I'd barely even get detention."

"Sophistry and semantics."

"Maybe. But you'll still be expelled and that'll be a black mark on your record to the end of
your days. So if you want those repair charms, we're going to have to reach an agreement."
He reached out and stroked his knuckles along her jaw. "Care to guess what I want?"
She jumped back, shaking her head. "No."

Draco shrugged. "Your call, Granger." He flicked his wand, cleaned up the shattered glass,
and whistled to himself as he strolled into his room.

Hermione dug her teeth into her lip and gently set the book on the lectern. She sank onto the
sofa, mind whirling.

Hours later, Hermione was no closer to a solution than when she'd started. Absorbent paper
between the pages, gentle air circulation, delicate water-siphoning charms — she knew the
salvage tricks, but those worked on modern, printed materials. On a codex that had been old
when Victoria was queen, with the hand-tinting that made it rare and valuable, nothing she
did had any effect except to make a damaged, wet book into a damaged, slightly less wet
book.

She curled up into a corner of the sofa, wrapped her arms around her shins, and buried her
head against her knees to have a little cry. She tried to keep silent, to keep Draco from
hearing her through the open door of his bedroom, but she took one breath too deep and
shaking to avoid his notice.

Draco gave a laugh from his room. The bed frame creaked, then the floor, and she knew he
was leaning against the door edge, arms folded, with that so smug look on his pointed face.

She lifted her head and glared at him. He'd loosened his tie and left it dangling around his
neck. He'd been running his fingers through his hair and the disarray of the pale strands,
combined with the open collar of his shirt, made a small, whispering part of her wonder
precisely what her objection was again.

She shook herself mentally. "What do you want?"

"From you? Several things, if you want those repair charms. Shall I go alphabetically or—"
His smile deepened. "Or anatomically?"

"Naturally you're thinking with the little brain."

"He controls about half my decisions, true. I'm making you an offer. Give me what I want,
and you'll get the charms you want."

Pushing her hair away from her face, she shook her head and gestured to the codex floating in
the air above the fireplace. "I'm doing perfectly well on my own. I just need more time. My
efforts are working. That book will be fine by morning."

"God, you're a bad liar." Draco moved silently across the room and perched on the opposite
arm of the sofa. He pulled off his tie and held it by the knot, brushing the ends against his leg.
"Even if you managed to get that thing properly dried out, how do you expect to return the
ink and watercolor to their original states?"
"I'll think of something." She looked at the book, at the clearly warped and stained pages,
then lifted her chin with determination. "I'm not letting you extort me, no matter what you
think."

"What extortion? That would be if I threatened to tell Pince that you damaged a very rare
book, despite being the most responsible student to ever set foot in the Restricted Section,
and that instead of immediately taking it to her, you tried to cover up what happened and
hoped she never found out. That's not in the slightest what I'm doing."

He twisted to face her on the sofa, tie dangling from his fingers. "I'm not going to say a word
to her. I'm offering to give you charms to help you. I just want something in exchange. You
decide if you're willing to give it. Otherwise? I'll keep the charms to myself. You can keep on
with your desperate attempts to hide that you broke your promise to be careful or admit to it
and take your punishment. Doesn't matter to me."

Hermione sniffed and rubbed her nose. She looked at the still-damp book. The very rare, very
valuable, very expensive book.

The book that she didn't have permission to take out of the Restricted Section, no matter what
she'd said. If Madam Pince didn't expel her for the damage, the theft would do it.

She chewed on the bottom joint of her thumb, then slowly looked at Draco. "What, exactly,
do you want?"

He blinked. "What now?"

She watched his throat move, a flush of pink spreading across his skin. "You want something
from me. I can't agree unless I know the exact terms. What do you want? Be specific."

He stared at her, then his eyes narrowed. "Think you'll get me to back off by demanding I say
it out loud? No luck, Granger. Not shy on the filthy talk."

He leaned closer to her. "I want you kneeling, sucking my dick until I come on your face."

That rush of lightning went down her spine again. It heated her blood and sent a blush racing
across her cheeks. She shifted, rubbing her hands down her thighs, and clenched her teeth.
Despite herself, a quiet keen filled her throat. "Agreed."

Draco's eyes flashed. He reached over and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck.
One sharp tug pulled her close. He kissed her hard, grinding her lips against her teeth, pulling
a gasp from her that opened her mouth and let him slide his tongue over hers.

She scrambled closer, one hand sliding into his shirt to feel his heart pounding. She touched
him everywhere she could reach, his skin hot under her palms, hoping to hear that jagged
sound she knew he made.

Draco planted his foot against the coffee table and shoved it away from the sofa to clear a
space on the floor. He pushed at her shoulder until she broke the kiss. He met her eyes, the
grey of his irises as dark as the storm clouds outside. Wetting his lips, he nodded once. "Get
on your knees, Granger."

Hermione scrambled off the sofa and dropped to the carpet between his feet, holding her
breath as Draco spread his knees wide. She set both hands on his legs, fingers digging into
his thighs.

Draco looked down at her hands, then one corner of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile. A
second later, he'd Summoned her Gryffindor tie. Grabbing her wrists, he pushed her hands
together and gave her a challenging look.

Hermione sat back on her heels and held his eyes as she interlaced her fingers.

Draco wrapped her tie around her wrists, binding them together loosely, then retrieved his
own tie and stretched it between his hands. He pressed the length of silk over her eyes and
paused.

Hermione took a deep breath. She scraped her bottom lip between her teeth, considering.
"Yes," she whispered. "Do it."

Draco made a soft sound that had her heart racing. She held position, trying not to shake with
anticipation while he blindfolded her. She expected to hear his zipper, to feel him guiding her
head, but instead she felt his breath stirring her hair as he leaned closer. "Arms up," he
murmured.

When she obeyed, he yanked her shirt out of her waistband and unbuttoned it, leaving it to
hang open. For a moment, she wished she was wearing a nicer bra than the plain cotton one
she'd chosen that morning.

Draco's fingers slipped down her chest and into the valley between her breasts, driving that
thought out of her mind. "Malfoy? Did you— I thought—"

He cupped her cheek, thumb sliding across her mouth.

"Drac—"

"Quiet," he said. He pushed his thumb between her lips, pressing on her tongue. "Did I tell
you to speak?"

Hermione gulped and squeezed her thighs together. She hadn't expected him to take that sort
of control, but now that he had, she could feel a throbbing inside her. Draco's foot prodded
between her knees and she instinctively spread her legs, her skirt rising up to her hips as she
moved.

Draco gave a soft hiss. "Good," he said, releasing his grip on her chin. "That's good. Just like
that, Granger. You are a good girl, aren't you?"

Her heart pounded against her ears, almost blotting out the sound of the sofa springs as he
stood, the jangle of his belt and the metallic click of his zipper. Fabric rustled and the sofa
creaked again. "Show me just how good a girl you are."
She tentatively shuffled forward, hands dropping between her spread knees. She leaned
forward over the edge of the sofa cushion. Draco put one hand on the back of her head,
guiding her into position.

She heard a grunt, felt a shift, then the head of his penis touched her mouth. Pursing her lips,
she gave it a delicate kiss. Draco gave another grunt, his fingers twisting in her hair, and
Hermione opened her mouth.

Starting slow, she explored the tip, the tiny slit, the ridge. Beneath the lower edge of the
blindfold, she could see a hint of him, his skin reddening as he hardened. He had his fingers
around the base, giving slow and light squeezes to the underside. Hermione flattened her
tongue and licked a trail down his shaft and across his knuckles.

Draco jumped and when she returned to the tip and the little slit there, she felt tiny drops of
fluid smear across her lips. She licked them up and lowered her head. Draco kept his hand on
the back of her head, but he didn't press or push her onto him. It was a nice change from the
previous times she'd done this and gave her freedom to be more bold than she usually was.

Opening her mouth wide, she slid down until he touched the back of her throat. Draco made a
stuttered sound, his cock pulsing against her tongue. Hermione closed her lips around him
and swallowed, pulling a low and shaky moan from Draco as she drew up to the head.

She sucked, concentrating on the tip, tongue circling around him. Wiggling her bound hands
between her thighs, she pressed hard on the front of her damp knickers and picked up speed,
every sense narrowed down to Draco, to her, and to what they were doing.

Draco was hot and solid in her mouth. His breathing turned to quick, heavy panting. His
fingers tightened in her hair as he bucked his hips, pushing deeper into her mouth. "Up," he
muttered, his voice so thick she barely recognized it as his. "Up. Stop."

Dragging off him, Hermione sat back on her heels. On your face, he'd said, and the thought of
it had her blushing with want. She lifted her head and opened her mouth, tongue resting on
her lower lip.

Draco swore under his breath and grunted, the sound mixing with a soft, rapid noise of his
hand pumping on his length. He mumbled, his words tripping over each other — good, so
good, hot, sucking, gonna, want to see, now, n—

There. There was the jagged, almost agonized sound she had heard through her bedroom
wall. A deep groan, broken and scattered as he gasped for breath. He broke, a deep and
guttural "fuck" echoing around them.

Thick, warm fluid dripped across her nose and down her cheeks, over her lips and into her
mouth. Hermione strained forward, grateful for the blindfold that kept any splashes out of her
eyes. She swiped her tongue across her lips, tasting salt and sweet.

"God, fuck, that— outstanding, Granger." Draco touched her chin, his fingers shaking against
her face, then pushed the blindfold off her. His eyes were nearly black, his face a brilliant
pink. Sweat stuck his fringe to his forehead and slid down the long column of his neck.
Hermione freed her hands from the loose bind of her tie. She rose up on her knees as she
wiped her mouth, then pursed her lips and gave Draco a look just as challenging as the one
he'd given her earlier.

He didn't blink. There was only a second's hesitation before he leaned in and kissed her,
tongue sliding across hers to lick his own taste out of her mouth. When he pulled away, his
eyes were hooded.

She thought, for a moment, that he was smiling. Not a smirk or a smug twist, not even a
wicked grin. A soft, almost shy smile. Then he shook his head and cleared his throat, pushing
to his feet to yank his trousers up.

"Going to the owlery," he muttered. "Deal's a deal."

The door slammed behind him. Hermione sat on her knees, staring at the solid oak,
wondering about the look she'd seen in his eyes.

She'd brought herself off in the shower, remembering the way Draco had felt in her mouth
and how powerful it had felt to get that groan of release from him. She dreamt all night of
hearing it again, and again, from standing above her, from behind her, muffled into her throat
and panted against her ear.

When she woke, her bedside table held a square package and an envelope, addressed to her in
Draco's spiked, rushed handwriting. The envelope held a list of charms and instructions,
along with a note.

I gave my word. Repair charms and full instructions attached. Fix the book and we'll never
speak of last night again.
Alternatively: Turns out the Manor had not one, but two copies of that codex. Mum didn't
mind sending one as a 'donation' to the Hogwarts library along with the repair charms.
Replace the damaged one with this copy. You can pay me back by coming to my room tonight.
Your call, Granger.
DLM
catmintandthyme @ twitter
reylodirtycrumb @ twitter
End Notes

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