Happy Birthday, Harry

DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to JKR.

A/N: I've been on a writing hiatus for the past couple of months and I've hardly been able to put two words together, much less form a sentence. I am SLOWLY getting back into it. It's taking some time, but I'm trying.

The following is a challenge on one of the sites that I'm a part of. Hermione had to write Harry a letter for his birthday…they could be together or not and the word count was 500 or less.

I [kind] of like the way mine turned out so I thought I'd share it with the readers here at Portkey. This is probably a bit OOC for Hermione but I don't really care…it's a struggle to get back into writing and I have to go with what comes to me.

382 words.

I do hope you like it. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Thanks.

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Dear Harry,

I hate this. A simple `how are you?' doesn't seem to be enough anymore…not after what happened between us. I'm not sure I even need to ask, really, because I can feel it - I know exactly how you are - and it's tearing me up inside.

Every night when I lie down in my bed I close my eyes and the first thing that fills the darkness of my mind is the image of you coming closer…and closer. My pulse quickens just as it did that first time, not so long ago. A light sheen of sweat covers my body as my fingers glide up and down my stomach in a feather-light touch so reminiscent of yours.

My fingers caress my nipples and in my mind's eye I see your lips and the way they covered me that night. My back arches as my pressure increases with the image of your teeth nipping at my breasts. Sparks cascade through my body until they pool together at the apex of my thighs and an ethereal moan escapes me.

I feel like I'm floating and I miss the weight of your body holding me down. My fingers drift slowly from my breasts and down the planes of my stomach until they come to the place where only you have been. They make their way through the dark curls until they find the spot that makes me cry out your name in wild abandonment.

It's your fingers and your lips, teeth and tongue that drive me to the brink of madness. And when I find that I can't take anymore your name explodes from my lips in a silent scream as wave after wave of guileless pleasure courses through my body.

I am breathless and only partially satiated as my body collapses against the mattress and I open my eyes to find myself alone.

For now my memories are all I have. But soon - very soon, my love - we will be joined and together we will shake the world to its very core.

Happy birthday, Harry…my Harry. I miss you.

Very soon…

All my love,

Your Hermione

P.S. I hope you like your gift…I magicked the camera so don't worry - you're the only one who will ever see me in that particular state of…undress.

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A few people asked for Harry's response to Hermione's letter so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Hope it's worth it!

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My God, Hermione…are you trying to kill me?

It's been hard (yeah, take that one as you will) enough trying to push the memories of that night out of my mind - and now this?!?! You're giving me telltale calluses and I'm having a hard time keeping the cause of them from the rest of the guys.

Damn these missions…we get one night together and I get called to duty. Tell me again - why am I doing this?

It's not in me to write to you and excite you the way you did me, but I can tell you that the visions of those pictures you sent are engraved in my memory. One blink - and there you are. I don't yet know when this assignment will be over, but I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna tell you when I do find out.

This is how I see our reunion:

I apparate soundlessly into your flat and find you standing in the kitchen with a tall, cold glass of water in your hand. A light sheen of sweat covers your body from the intense heat of the summer sun and it glistens in the light shining in through the window.

Your skirt is short, about mid-thigh, and the sleeveless top you're wearing barely covers that sexy, flat stomach which normally lies hidden under layers of useless clothing. Your hair is pulled up, exposing your neck and throat.

I watch in silence as you place your glass on the table and pull out an ice cube. You run it slowly along the column of your throat and down between your breasts before pulling it salaciously [I think that's the right word] into your mouth.

I walk quietly up behind you and as my arm encircles your waist, my lips seek out that spot just below your ear that has you pressing back against me almost immediately. I grind against you, letting you feel how much I've missed you.

Your head drops back and as your lips meet mine your foot rises until it rests on the stool beside the table. With my other hand, I trace the path of the ice from your throat to your breasts. I waste little time as my fingers travel on to your stomach and to your thigh, until I reach the hem of your skirt. I can feel your body tauten [right word?] against mine and a soft moan escapes us both as my fingers are drawn upward until I reach your…

Bloody hell, Hermione…I have to go. I can hear the guys making their way back from the pub and I'd never hear the end of it if they catch sight of this letter. Sorry, sweetheart, I'll write again soon - although I'm hoping there won't be time for more letters. If all works out, I'll be seeing and holding you again - very soon.

Love,
Harry

P.S. Thanks for the pictures - even if they are pure torture seeing as I can't enjoy the real thing right now.

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I'm not planning for this to be a string of letters, but I thought this little response from Hermione was cute. I might carry it out until Harry's `reunion' is fulfilled - but not sure yet.

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Harry,

It's winter here. There is no sun shining through the windows and the hot days of summer are a long way off. Suffice it to say I've transfigured a month's worth of outfits and I'm expecting the heating bill to be outrageous this month.

Hurry home. The water is cold, the ice is ready, and the room is stifling.

Love from,
Hermione

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