Reykjavik
“International Portkeys are the worst,” said Rose to herself after she finished dry-heaving on the side of the road. Even after all the travel she’d done, she wasn’t very good at magical transportation. Her Portkey had landed her in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Reykjavik. As Iceland didn’t have enough of a magical population to justify a whole Ministry, the ICW had slapped together accommodations for inbound and outbound Portkeys.
Rose blew out a breath and watched as it misted in the air. She had taken the weekend to come visit Kieran on his latest job. He’d come back from South America, and they’d spent a glorious two weeks crawling all over each other before the bank had sent him off to Iceland. One week later, she had thrown caution to the wind and told him to come pick her up at the Portkey Office. The rumble of a motorcycle caught her attention, and Rose looked up to see Kieran on a sleek black motorcycle, driving up the road. He came to a stop right in front of her and parked the bike, swinging a leg and taking his helmet off.
“Hey,” he said, grinning crookedly and looking at her with soft, warm eyes. Rose couldn’t resist. She launched herself at him, looping her arms around his neck and crushing her lips against his. He caught her with a huff and returned the kiss just as passionately. A few moments later, Rose drew back, breathing heavy. “I missed you too,” he said with a laugh.
“You look good on a motorcycle,” she said, breathless.
“I’ll have to get one of my own, then,” he teased. “This is just a rental.”
“Sirius had a flying motorcycle,” she said, accepting the helmet he passed to her.
“What happened to it?” he asked, helping her adjust the straps.
“Last I saw it, it was crashed in the Tonks’ backyard when I escaped from the Dursley’s. I think Arthur might have it in his garden shed, actually.”
“I sense that there's a story behind that.”
“Some other time – it’s not a happy story.” She settled behind him on the motorcycle and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Where are we off to?”
“Ice Caves. It’s a forty minutes drive. Does that work?” Rose looked at him blankly.
“I thought we were going to the hot springs.”
“I saved that for tomorrow, I couldn’t get a reservation today,” muttered Kieran, revving the motorcycle. “There’s a magical area in the caves, though! Legend has it that ancient Seers imbued it with their powers to show people visions of their future.” Rose perked up at that.
It was a lovely ride – if a bit long. Rose took the liberty of holding up the Warming Charms as they rode. The scenery in Iceland was incredibly beautiful and completely at odds with other places she’d seen before. Dark igneous rock made up the base of the island, with sparse greenery dotted throughout. There were snow-capped mountains in the distance. They arrived at the Ice Caves and parked in the lot outside the ticket office. Kieran secured the motorcycle while she scoped the area out. There was a long line forming outside the office, and Rose looked at it with resigned acceptance.
“Don’t worry, we’re not joining them,” said Kieran in her ear, grabbing her hand and tugging her in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?”
“The magical entrance is this way.”
Rose felt the wards wash over her as they walked into a cordoned area next to a small wooden shack. There was nobody there, and it was almost eerily silent. Kieran was calm, though and she felt safer at his side. They stopped in front of the shack, and Kieran drew his wand, gesturing for her to do the same. She took her wand out silently and waited for him to make a move.
The wand she was using was new. When the thestral at Hogwarts had gifted her his tail hair, Rose had been possessed with a manic sense of purpose. The result was a wand that worked even better for her than the holly she'd carried since the age of eleven. When she was in India, Rose had come across a large fallen branch from a banyan tree that had positively buzzed with magical potential. She’d kept it, but hadn’t found a core that suited it yet. Banyan was a wood for calm, peace and spiritual growth from the perspective of life. Thestral hair symbolized the same from the perspective of death. The perfect balance.
After getting hesitant permission from Ollivander – he’d had no choice; a freely given gift from a creature of magic was not to be overlooked – she’d braided the thestral hair together, knotting it so the magic in each strand overlapped in waves with others. The braid of thestral hair was placed in the carefully carved hollow of eleven inches of banyan wood and sealed with delicate wandless magic. After being oiled thoroughly with sandalwood oil and left to rest for fourteen days in a magically isolated space, Rose had been happy to switch out her holly wand in favor of the new one. She’d popped back to Hogwarts after it was finished to show the thestral that had given her the core – he seemed to approve.
“It tests your magic to let you in. Remember the temple in Rome? It’s like that.”
“You’re pressing your wand to the door?” she asked, eyeing the door warily.
“Yes. You just push a bit of raw magic through. Nothing happens if you’re rejected, but if the cave allows you in the door will open.”
“Alright, go for it,” said Rose, nodding firmly. Kieran lightly placed the tip of his wand – redwood and dragon heartstring – to the door and closed his eyes. There was a brief flash of golden light, and the door swung open for him.
“See you on the other side,” he said, grinning and entered. The door slammed shut behind him as soon as he went over the threshold. Breathing deeply, Rose followed suit. Placing the tip of the wand against the door, she pushed. The magic of the cave reached down through her wand and hooked into her core. She felt it deeper than she had in Rome now that she was more in tune with herself, and resisted a wince at the sensation. A long moment later, there was a feeling of acceptance, and the hook retracted. She opened her eyes and sighed with relief when the door swung open and she stepped over the threshold into the dilapidated shack.
Kieran was waiting for her in front of a trapdoor on the floor, a relaxed smile on his face. “Knew you’d make it,” he said and pointed at the floor. “We’ve got to go down.” Rose was reminded of her first year when they’d gone down the trapdoor after the Philosopher’s Stone and was struck with a pang of fear for the first time. They had no idea what was down there – it scared Rose not to know. “Are you okay?” asked Kieran, seeing her hesitation.
“Yeah,” she said shakily. “Just – memories.”
“I’ll be right there next to you, love,” said Kieran quietly. It made her feel better, and she nodded, kneeling to help him wrench the trapdoor open. It opened without a noise, and she peered down to see a brilliant blue glow coming from below with a sturdy wooden ladder silhouetted against the glow. “I’m right behind you.”
Rose nodded, set her jaw and started her descent down the ladder. When she got to the bottom, she dared to look up and breathed a gasp. It was beautiful. The walls of the cave were covered in ice crystals that glowed an otherworldly blue. There were rainbows scattered across the walls as light refracted off of the ice-covered walls. Kieran dropped down next to her with a slight thump and whistled lowly as he looked around.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said, taking in the sights greedily. They wandered along the path, reveling in the beauty of it.
“People say they can see visions of their future if they look closely at the crystals.” He walked over to an ice crystal that jutted out of the wall and peered at it for a moment before jumping back with a gasp and whirling to look at her, wide-eyed.
“What?” she asked worriedly.
“Look closer,” he said hoarsely, reaching for her. She went easily, and looked into the crystal that Kieran pointed out. For a moment, she could only see her own reflection in it, and then the image flickered.
Dark hair and pudgy, dimpled cheeks.
Kind chocolate eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.
The pitter patter of little feet as they stumbled across hardwood floors into her waiting arms.
Sandcastles and sticky fingers at the beach.
A full home.
Family dinners with Campbells and Weasleys and a brood of children with James Potter’s untameable hair.
Laughter, joy and yes – sadness, but companionship and comfort and true, enduring happiness.
A future to look forward to.
Rose stepped back, almost stumbling over her own feet. Her eyes teared up, and she reached blindly for Kieran’s hand. He caught her hand in his and pulled her closer. They breathed together for a long time, reeling from the vision. “Did you see them?” she murmured, looking up at him with wonder.
“I did,” he breathed, cupping her face. There were tears glimmering in his eyes. “They’re so beautiful. I can’t believe that’s our future.”
Rose kissed him softly, lovingly. “Our future,” she echoed.
There wasn’t much more to the cave, but they explored every nook and cranny. There were no more visions to be found, but Rose’ heart was full. The silence between them was loaded with emotion: hope, fear, excitement. They left the cave and walked back to the lot in silence. The motorcycle was where they left it. Kieran leaned back against it instead of getting on, guiding her to stand between his legs.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly. He was silent for a long moment, eyes distant even as he was looking straight at her.
“I’m going to quit my job,” he said evenly. Rose was stunned silent.
“You love your job,” she said finally, even as a warm rush of joy filled her at the thought of him being home at the end of every day.
Kieran shook his head, and said, “Not as much as I love you. Not as much as I love my family. Not as much as I want the future I saw in that cave. I can’t – these past few months have been hell, Rosie. I like travelling, being a Curse Breaker, but things are different now. I don’t want to spend any more time away from home. Away from you.” His voice shook with desperate emotion.
“Are you sure?” she whispered, heart in her throat. He placed his hands on her waist and squeezed gently.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”