A/N: This is a little one-shot I thought I'd post in honor of my own birthday, which is today. :) Its a totally different pairing than the story I'm currently working on, I know this, but Harry/Hermione are another favorite of mine too!

So I hope you guess enjoy this little tale. And if you haven't checked out my other story 'Darling, We're Famous' & you also enjoy a Draco/Hermione pairing, you should stop on by and take a peek. ;) Okay, I'm done rambling, on with the show!


Happy Birthday
A Harry/Hermione One-Shot

He crushed his lips to hers in an awkward, quick, and hard kiss. There was no 'caught up in the moment' tenderness to it; he was just too uncoordinated for that nonsense. Since she had sat down beside him on that cozy, scarlet couch, all he could think about was her lips. It was strange, because although there was no other time he could remember being this consumed with her gorgeous lips as he watched them move to form the words she spoke and saw how pink and plump they were, he realized that this wasn't the first time he noticed this. The thought had always been there, but today, it seemed to flare up to the front of his mind, leaving him terribly distracted. They had been having a conversation for about fifteen minutes now, and he couldn't remember a single thing they've said or what they were even talking about. Today, at that moment, her lips were too kissable for him to focus on anything other than how they would feel on his own.

When she noticed that her words were going unheard, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Harry? Are you even listening?" she huffed, pouting. The least he could do was hear her out. Her snapping seemed to awaken Harry from his reverie and he instantly reacted, leaning forward and... bam. Now its history. Very awkward history that he would love nothing more than to forget that it had ever happened. But she didn't think that the kiss should fade silently into the recesses of their minds - no, Hermione had to ask every question she could, otherwise she just wouldn't be Hermione.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She brought her hand up, allowing her fingertips to skim her bottom lip. "Why did you-?"

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry responded forcefully, pushing himself up from the couch. As he turned away from her, he mumbled in addition, "Happy birthday."

He was dashing up the dormitory stairs before she could even turn around to watch him go, much less ask any more of the questions that were plaguing her mind.


He had just arrived to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place earlier that day. Everything was completely average and normal, as far as being surrounded by magic goes. He was greeted warmly by everyone - from Molly and Arther Weasley to Sirius and Lupin to Ginny and the twins, and of course his two best friends in the world. The hug that he received from Hermione though was different; it was a hug filled with tension, as it normally was now. He stiffened when her arms wrapped around his torso, the proximity of her body doing things to him that he tried to deny. It seems that ever since that day in the common room - the day of her birthday when he had kissed her - had now resulted in his daily thoughts consisting of her lovely face, melodic voice, entrancing laugh, silky-soft hair, oh-so wonderfully feminine body, and most importantly of all, her lips. He never went too long without his thoughts wandering back to her.

He must have developed feelings for her over time beyond the physical attraction, and now he was just a mess. When she would ask him why he was staring at her, he would tell her it was nothing while all he was thinking about was how beautiful she was. When she would call him on the random grin that sometimes appeared on his face, he would simply say he thought of something funny yet he was really marveling at how intelligent she was or how adorable she looked while she dutifully worked on her notes or essays. And probably worst of all - when she asked 'what's wrong' if she saw him looking rather melancholy, he would snap at her rather harshly while all he was thinking of was how unrequited his feelings would be. The last one has caused more fights between the two than ever. He's hurt her many times over - not badly enough to make her hate him, but enough to make her come to the brink of tears a time or two. And its only because he thinks she wouldn't like him back.

But how wrong Harry was.

Though the kiss had been uncomfortable and made her front teeth hurt afterward, she knew it came from a good place. Harry wouldn't just kiss her on impulse if he didn't have some sort of feelings for her, right? And yet she knew he wouldn't admit those feelings either; apparently, guys are never supposed to tell girls that they fancy them, because it will make them 'look like idiots' or something. So if Hermione ever wanted Harry to know that she felt something for him as well, she was going to have to prove it to him in a big way. And she knew just the thing that he might appreciate and she might enjoy.

Actually, there was no 'might' to it - she was going to enjoy this, if her plans ran smoothly. Hermione wanted him. And this he would learn, when the clock strikes midnight in Grimmauld Place...


It was now the 31st of July, Harry's birthday. While everyone else was in bed, Harry was sitting up in the library of the old house, reading. He couldn't seemed to sleep and he felt the strange urge go somewhere. So instead of ignoring the feeling and staying in his comfortably warm bed, he moved himself to sit in the dark, slightly creepy room. As the grandfather clock rung ominously throughout the house, a chill went up the raven-haired boy's spine. While the very last ring hung in the night air, the door to the library slowly eased open. But when Harry looked up to see who was entering, he saw no one there. Only empty space.

"Hello?" he called in a stage-whisper, squinting at the door's direction. Then, the door eased shut again as steadily as it had opened, seemingly all by itself. The sight was, honestly, frightening to witness until an abrupt thought came to Harry's mind. The sound of light footsteps padding across the hardwood floor resounded within the walls of the room as Harry, becoming increasingly frantic, searched for where he put his wand. His actions were halted though as a pair of small, invisible hands pushed back on his shoulders, pinning him to the back of his armchair.

"Well, its not Ron, I know that," he thought aloud, knowing that the hands holding him were female. He reached out in front of him, grabbing whenever he hid something solid that was not there visibly. Removing his invisibility cloak, he spotted his trickster: Hermione Granger. She was gazing at Harry, slightly wide-eyed before dropping down to the floor before him.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he watched her adjust herself more comfortably. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she whispered as she began to rub his thighs with both hands. It was only then that he knew what she was playing at and when he saw the mischievous glint in her chocolaty brown eyes, he instantly began to become aroused. "Happy birthday," she purred, voice as smooth as silk before she proceeded to unzip his fly...


You can imagine the rest for yourselves - this was just a tiny treat for me, breaking away from my other story for a short moment. But now, I'll resume work on the next chapter of my story already in progress, and it should be up soon. :)

Hope you liked it! Please take the time to review, if you don't care. ;)