Tokyo
After an exhausting day where they’d been tourists and hiked up and down Mount Fuji, Rose was lying on her firm futon mattress and staring up at the ceiling. Kieran was fast asleep, chest rising and falling in mesmerizing rhythm. She shuffled closer, greedy for the warmth he radiated. Winter had arrived, and the weather had gotten markedly chilly. The snow atop the mountain had been lovely, and reminded her of that first Christmas at Hogwarts, where she had spent most of her time playing with the Weasleys. The memory of Fred lobbing snowballs at Quirrell’s turban sent a pang of bittersweet longing through her – longing for more innocent days.
At this point, Rose had been gone from Britain for almost a year. She felt more like herself than ever; she was settled in her own skin. The nightmares still came every now and then, but she could breathe through them, and they didn’t seem so scary anymore. Rose didn’t know if she’d ever be free of the terrors of her childhood and the war, but she knew that she was in the best health – mentally and physically – she’d ever been in. She’d learned so much – about magic, herself and about the world. Her wand collection had grown to the point that she had to make a special case to carry them all. Most importantly, she’d found love.
That said, Rose missed home. She missed Ron’s terrible jokes and Hermione’s rambling lectures. She missed Mrs. Weasley’s hugs and Mr. Weasley’s fascination with all things Muggle. She missed Luna's imaginary menagerie of creatures and Neville’s green thumb. She missed Teddy’s toothless smile and felt desperately guilty for abandoning him for so long. Andromeda had assured her in her letters that Teddy remembered her and asked about her often, but she was terrified that he had forgotten.
It was time to go back.
The next day, they were enjoying steaming cups of sencha when Rose brought it up. “I’m thinking of going home to Britain,” she said quietly, wrapping her fingers tightly around her cup.
“For Christmas?”
“Well, yes, but– ” she hesitated, and said, “Also properly. To live there again.”
“Are you ending the Rose Potter Recovery Tour?” he asked gently, taking her hand in his.
“Yeah,” she said, breathing out shakily. “I feel good, Kieran. In the head, I mean. At the beginning of this trip, I was so lost. Having nightmares every night, seeing ghosts everywhere, wishing I’d stayed dead when Voldemort killed me.” Kieran made a pained little noise. “I don’t feel that way anymore. I miss my friends, my godson. I have responsibilities that I’ve let fall aside to heal, but I can’t ignore them any longer.”
“What’s holding you back?” he asked softly. “You always have my support, you know that.”
“I’m scared,” she breathed. “I miss everyone, but the last time I was living in Britain everything was terrible. Everyone had these expectations of me, I couldn’t go anywhere without getting hounded, and all the fucking pressure to be some kind of hero was suffocating. What if I go back, and everything is the same?”
“It might be,” conceded Kieran after a while. “I imagine after such a long absence from the public eye, your return would be a big deal. It will be in the media, people will want to see you in public, the whole celebrity thing will be a factor for sure.” He paused briefly, thinking about his next words. “They might be the same. But you’re not, sweetheart. You’re different now. Stronger, more settled. You’ve seen the world, learned so much. You can deal with it. The vultures will move on eventually, but you’ve worked too hard to heal to let them break you down like that.” Rose smiled at his passionate declaration.
“You’re right, I know that,” she admitted softly. “I’m still anxious about it.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be right there next to you.”
“You do know that when they find out about us you’ll be in the paper as well, right?” she pointed out, low-level dread churning in her gut. What if her fame was a deal breaker?
“As long as they get my good side, I’ll be fine with it,” smirked Kieran.
“Which side is that?” asked Rose, grinning.
“My right, obviously,” scoffed Kieran.
Rose squinted at him and said, “I literally don’t see any difference between your left and right. You have a beautiful face. Very handsome.”
“Clearly, you’re not paying enough attention. My left eyebrow is obviously half an inch higher than my right,” sniffed Kieran, eyes sparkling with mirth. Rose laughed heartily at that, her spirits already lifting. His gaze softened. “I really don’t mind about the press, alright? I don’t have any skeletons in my closet they can dig up, and I believe our relationship is strong enough to weather any storm the media throws our way.”
“Alright,” she said, smiling shakily. “Home by the holidays, then?”
“Home by the holidays,” he confirmed. There was a brief pause, and then he said, tentatively, “Would you like to meet my family? I’ve told them about you, and my Mam said to invite you over when we were both back in the country.”
“I’d like to meet your family,” she said, blushing a little. “And Sir Woofalot, of course.”
“He’s dying to meet you as well,” said Kieran happily.
“I normally go to the Burrow for dinner on Christmas Day,” she said, fiddling with straw placemat. “You’d be welcome too.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Of course. You already know Bill. And…we’re serious, right? In it for the long run?” she asked, oddly nervous.
“Definitely,” said Kieran confidently, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to the back of it. “It’s settled, then.”
It was as though a weight had lifted off Rose’s chest. The rest of their time in Tokyo was incredible. They ate their weight in sushi, hiked a ludicrous amount of forest trails - where Rose accumulated another pocketful of twigs - and visited several onsens, content to relax and let the hot water seep the aches out of their tired muscles.
Their last night in Japan, Rose rolled over in bed, kissed Kieran deeply and told him that she loved him.
He said it back.