A/N: I listened to "Face Down in the Gutter of Your Love" by Dent May for the first time, and I couldn't get this out of my head. So, here you go!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all its lovely characters are not mine. "Face Down in the Gutter of Your Love" is a song by Dent May, and you should definitely listen to it!

The Gutter of Your Love

"You're late," Draco heard her say, as he entered the conference room.

She sat on one side of the twelve-seat pine table, flanked by two of her underlings at Andrews, Sanford, Granger, and Melville. All three were dressed in the requisite black robes of the respected law firm, but only the senior barrister wore an irked expression – just for him.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger," he drawled as he sauntered to the table and elegantly settled onto the leather chair across from her. He motioned for his executive assistant to take the seat next to him. "I apologize for my tardiness. I had a late night, and it was difficult to get out of bed so early this morning."

Hermione Granger's lips thinned and whitened for a moment, as if she bit them from the inside of her mouth, before she sneered, "Ten o'clock is hardly daybreak, Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco," she whispered in his ear like a quiet mantra. "Draco, Draco, Draco."

"Don't worry, Ms. Granger," he said. "I'm sure your firm will still bill me the exorbitant fee for the full hour."

"You're damn right," she said. She looked down at the stack of documents in front of her. "We need to go over these contracts that you and your company made with the claimants when you initially hired them."

She shuffled through the papers in front of her, long fingers rifling quickly through the pile.

Her fingers skimmed over the expanse of his white dress shirt. She found the top button and freed it, and she slowly made her way down the front of his torso until she could ease the shirt off his shoulders.

Hermione thrusted the collated files in his direction. His efficient assistant took them, instead.

"I strongly advise you to read those carefully," she said sternly.

"As I mentioned before: I'm paying your firm an ungodly amount of money to take care of this. Which means I'm paying you," he said as he pointed to the man sitting on Hermione's left, "and you," he indicated to the one on her right, "to read these fucking contracts for me."

He snatched the papers from his assistant's hands and tossed them across the table to the flabbergasted solicitors.

The sound of chair legs harshly scraping against the wooden floor reverberated through the room as Hermione swiftly stood. She wore high heels at the office, and it made her slightly more menacing as she leaned over the surface of the table to glare at him.

She looked down at him with unmitigated heat.

He was sprawled on his back and only had enough presence of mind to keep his eyes fixed on hers. His hands were no longer his to control; they roamed over her body as she moved rhythmically on top of him.

They grabbed, scratched, pinched, teased. They gripped the soft skin of her hips possessively.

"You're going to read these contracts," she said through her teeth, "so during re-examination, there might be the slightest chance that you're going to know what you're talking about."

He glowered at her in return. "We both know this case is just a ruse. They stole proprietary information from my company, and they're only using this hackneyed lawsuit for breach of employment contracts to cover their asses."

She blew out a sharp breath. "I know. But they filed against you before you could make a move, so now you're the one with your back against the wall. You have to make sure you know these contracts front-to-back when they question you. So, read them," she said. "Please."

"Please!" she moaned.

Draco regarded her for another moment, before retrieving the pile of documents.

She sighed audibly and sat back down. An errant curl escaped her strict bun, and she tucked it behind her ear.

He held a fist against the scalp above her neck, capturing her long, brown curls. He positioned her head to the side as he sucked, bit, marked the skin where her graceful neck met her shoulder.

His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he thrusted from behind her, inexorably losing control.

There was a knock on the door, and a young man timidly peeked into the room.

"Ms. Granger? I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But an urgent owl arrived for you. From your husband."

She motioned for him to come in, and he delivered the note.

Hermione unfolded the parchment and silently read the short message. When she was done, she creased it neatly and tucked it into the pocket of her robe.

Draco looked at her impassively, and she returned his gaze, aloof.

"When are we scheduled to meet with the claimants?" he asked abruptly.

"Tomorrow morning," she replied.

"I'll have the contracts read by then," he said. He stood up and gave her a sharp nod as he departed.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said as he left.

"Draco!" she cried out.

"Goodbye, Ms. Granger," he said.

"Hermione," came out as a guttural sound.

They fought against the sheets that entangled them and lolled, boneless, into each other's arms. Each minute passed quieter as they slowly gained control of their breathing.

She caressed her fingertips on his cheeks and nose and lips.

"I've got to go," she said. She sat up and planted her feet on the floor, looking for her carelessly discarded clothes. "I need to pick up the kids from my parents' house before it gets too late."

She quickly dressed and walked over to the mirror on the wall. Draco sat on the bed and watched as she erased the signs of him off her body.

"When is he due back?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "Whenever he's done with work, I suppose."

She looked at his reflection in the mirror, her eyes filled with guilt. "Maybe we should stop this, for good. This – it's not right. Tell me it's not right."

He hurried over to her, not bothering to cover any part of himself.

"This isn't fair to anyone," she continued, panic building up in her voice. "It's not fair to him. I still love him; I love my family. And I'm not being fair to you. No one should have to hide you."

He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. He needed to stop her – the last time she followed this train of thought, he didn't see her for three agonizing months.

"I don't care," he said. He forced her to meet his eyes. "I don't care that you hide me. I don't care that you love him. Love him. Love your family. Spend your love on your friends, on your job, on every house elf and every other helpless creature in England."

He brought his hands up to cradle her face and rested his forehead against hers. "Whatever love you've got left, Hermione. Whatever lies wasted at the bottom of the gutter. I'll take it."

Hermione captured his lips tenderly, and he tasted her, still sweet and tart, flavored by the white wine she drank earlier in the night.

She reluctantly let go and stepped into her high-heeled shoes. She walked to the door but paused before she strode out.

"We have a meeting tomorrow morning. Don't be late," she reminded him gently.

She left, closing the door behind her.

A/N: I know, I should have been working on "Friends, in Retrospect" or "Mrs. Azkaban" or literally anything else instead of writing this songfic. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway! Reviews would be so appreciated!

The next chapter of "Friends, in Retrospect" should be up in a day or so. Hope to see you there!