Hey guys. So first off, this is my first fanficiton ever, so yeah. Take that as you will. I got inspired so I wrote this. Please review, I would love to see the feedback.

I don't own Harry Potter.

Happy New Year all, and please review!

Traditions

It was a New Year's Eve tradition that the two shared. Exactly when and how their own special tradition began, neither of them really knew nor cared to keep track of. After all, why question a good thing? And that was what this one was, a good thing. It was a comforting tradition, these words that were commonly shared between these two friends. With them it carried a sense of finality and a sense of beginning, a sense of reflection and a sense of hope. It wasn't that the words themselves were unbelievably enlightening, because in truth they were always different. But it was the tradition of the question, of the conversation they had because of that question that gave it such importance. As traditions are often known for, the mere constant act becomes an anchor to another time, another feeling and another person. And as with most traditions, Harry and Hermione would find themselves lost in it as it simultaneously whisked them away from reality and brought them closer to it all at once.

Perhaps it began their first year of school, right before the holidays would claim the students for their own. As normal for the cold December nights, the Golden Trio found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, in front of the fireplace as the attempted to wrap up the remainder of their studies that stood between them and the freedom that the holidays would bring.

After what seemed like hours of writing and reviewing, Hermione finished an especially long, but detailed essay that was due to Professor Snape the following day. Shifting positions, she brought her knees to her chest and looked into the fire. She didn't need to turn to look at her best friends to know that Ron had fallen asleep while writing his still unfinished essay, his snores were evidence enough and they didn't surprise her. What did surprise her was the absence of the gentle scratch of Harry's quill that was working on that same essay a moment before. Turning to look behind her, she saw Harry's eyes on her, confused.

"Something wrong?" He offered gently, grateful for the small break that their conversation would have from his essay.

Hermione looked back to the fire. "No, I was just thinking." She began, with the intention of that ending the conversation, but Harry's eyes, filled with curiosity, begged for her to continue. Even then, when they were so young, Hermione had trouble resisting that look. Her mind drifted to her earlier thoughts. New Years was coming, and for some reason that day had always meant something to her, though then she probably couldn't place the reason very well. Something about the chance to start something new, to learn from the past and change the future, to become someone better the next year than she had been before, and to choose that something better for herself. "Someday, I want to spend New Years Eve in America, New York City to be exact." It came out almost a whisper, but she knew Harry had heard it. Thankfully he didn't respond initially, she knew how ridiculous that had sounded, but to her it made perfect sense. New Years to Hermione meant the ability to change and control your life and who you were and that was even reflected in where you were and whom you were with on New Years Eve. The desire to be exploring another place on such a significant day spoke volumes to who Hermione was, even then.

Harry grinned, not fully understanding but seeing the thought behind the words. "That sounds nice."

The following year, Hermione found herself ringing in the New Year with her parents and away from her two best friends. Needless to say, she was far away from her original dream of visiting New York for the eve, but oddly enough it didn't matter. Harry has sent her a letter, wishing her the best for the New Year and giving her a generic update on his holidays, as was normal, but he closed his letter with a question, "Where do you wish you were this New Years?" She immediately knew the answer: New Zealand. It would be amazing to be among the first to ring in the New Year.

And thus their tradition began, mostly with the question of where she wanted to go. Sometimes they would begin discussing their future plans for the year, their goals and their resolutions. Hermione's answers would always change. During their third year at Hogwarts, the answer was changed to Rome, for it's beauty and romance. Fourth year, inspired by one specific international student, Hermione's answer was Bulgaria. Fifth year, it changed to Greece, while sixth year her answer shifted to Australia. Though her answers changed, Harry's question remained the same, and like clockwork, he would always find a way to ask Hermione the question, whether he was physically with her or not. And that was what was so comforting about their little tradition, because regardless the circumstance and the crazy changes that were brought by each new year, the two friends always has that to hold on to, be it a insignificant nine word question.

There was only one year that Harry purposefully did not ask Hermione their traditional question. It was during what would have been their seventh year of school, while they were out fighting a war that they were far to young to fight yet far to determined to avoid. Hermione was not sure whether or not the exact day was New Years Eve or not. For all she knew, they could have been weeks into the New Year. Still, Harry came to sit beside her by the fire that she had been moments before gazing intently into, not talking. She looked over to him and found herself looking directly into the same emerald eyes that she faced so many years ago her first year, and many times there after. Looking back into the fire, Hermione could almost feel the question radiating from Harry, though he too remained silent. She knew the answer. This year, she didn't wish for some extravagant trip to another country for her celebrations. No, she wished for her home, her family, her friends. She wished for familiarity, for comfort, for safety. Shutting her eyes, Hermione knew that she would not tell Harry her answer to the unspoken question, it would hurt him too much and chances are, he already knew and was probably thinking the same thing. No, she may not have been where she wished she were, but she knew she was where she needed to be. Opening her eyes, she reached over for Harry's hand, as if to reassure and say, "Someday, everything will be okay." She would never tell him, but in that moment she was never so unsure about what the New Year would bring.

As to whether or not everything did turn out okay, well, that was up for interpretation. The war did finally end, and evil was once again defeated, but not without a cost. Dear family members and friends were lost during that last battle, among of them being Ron. Life seemed empty without Ron there, for both the remaining fragments of the trio. They went through the six or so months that led to New Years Eve absentmindedly, avoiding as much human contact as possible which, in translation, sadly meant avoiding the entire Weasley clan. The two would spend time with each other, though in silence, neither wanting to speak about anything – let alone the pain of the past year's events. They both knew the power of words, and, likewise, they both feared the finality that their words would force them to face. Their words would only lead to the realization and acceptance of their loss.

They spent New Year's Eve together. Who's idea it was, they didn't really know. Both were quite sure that neither of them did suggest it, rather it was just known. The two needed each other at that moment, regardless how in denial they may have been to the fact. With the hour quickly approaching, Harry looked at the sad face that Hermione held. They had been standing outside in a garden, silence being their only other companion. Hermione looked like a shadow of who she used to be, and Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for that fact. He remembered the first year girl with the dream of celebrating in New York, excitement and hope for the New Year in her eyes. But now, excitement and hope were distant memories.

The pair sat down and Harry couldn't stand their silence any longer. He spoke awkwardly, breaking the thick and suffocating silence that surrounded them. "So…" He had intended to ask her their traditional question, but Hermione already knew what he was going to say and answered quickly, though it was obvious that she was not entirely of her normal mind. Her calm and collected demeanor has long since vanished, and all Harry could do was watch her words spill from her mouth.

"I wish that I was at the burrow." she said quickly. "I wish that we were still in our sixth year and our biggest problems were love potions and house cups. I wish that I could walk into my own home and see my parents again. I wish that our best friend were still alive and sitting next to us rather than being a cold corpse underneath the even colder ground. I wish….I wish I was still that girl who used to get excited for the New Year and believed that all her wishes and dreams could come true, because the fact is, they cant. Nothing is going to change what happened, and nothing is okay anymore. I wish I could still hope for the best, but lately it seems that hope is just another fairytale and in the end I'm still left here… empty." By this point she had stood and already begun to walk away from Harry but he quickly shot up and held her close as she cried. After a while she spoke again. "I just want to be happy again." Minutes later the New Year had officially come, and Hermione had found herself walking back inside her house, leaving Harry outside, watching after her.

He knew that this New Year, his resolution was to make Hermione see the happiness in life again.

Years passed, and each New Year brought Harry the same resolution as he inched closer and closer to his goal. After that first night, Harry resolved himself to become stronger, if not for himself but for Hermione. It began with small actions such as taking her out to coffee or going out for walks with her. No conversation was needed; just the company of the other was necessary. Eventually they began to talk, first about insignificant things, then about their lives and then, on especially perfect days, they talked about the war. And hand in hand, they walked with each other until they eventually overcame the storm that the war had brought into their lives. Their sadness slowly seemed to fade away and happiness replaced it once again, but with something new this time – love. It was small at first, and hesitant, as it bloomed within their grief. Soon their short walks and coffee dates turned into picnics by the sea and long conversations that regularly lasted way into the night.

Three years later, the unlikely pair found themselves once again together for New Years Eve, but this time Harry was prepared with another question for the brown-eyed girl. Before the New Year begun, Harry got down on one knee and proposed to her. At first Hermione didn't know whether to laugh at the cliché act of proposing during New Year's Eve or to laugh at the improbability that these two would have ever fallen for each other, a event that she had only dreamed and wished for in her younger years. Almost shouting her "Yes!" reply in complete and utter joy, she launched herself into his arms, realizing that while some of her wishes would never come true, maybe, just maybe, some of her wishes and dreams for the future would. Maybe they already had.

That night, with Harry's arms wrapped around her as the two gazed out into the stars, Harry asked her a second question. It was their traditional question. Their sweet comforting tradition that took them far from and close to reality all at once. "Where do you wish you were this New Years?"

Hermione smiled the most genuine and warm smile that she had not let grace her lips since the end of the war. "Here. No where else but here."