Chapter 15
May, 2004
Bill scratched absentmindedly at the scar on his wrist as he sat through what felt like his five hundredth meditation. His body had been acting strangely the last few days, almost out of his own control. It reminded him of mornings where he'd arrive at his desk, having no recollection of arriving at the bank. Muscle memory simply carried him to where he needed to go and what he needed to do. All week, he had caught himself numerous times reaching for his wand, a healing spell on his lips, before he came back to himself and remembered there was nothing to heal. He had become somewhat moody, despite the fact that ever since arriving at the Temple, he had been consistently optimistic and content, if not truly happy. And he had noticed himself, more than this once, scratching at various scars and marks across his body, despite the distinct lack of an itch. It was confusing and a little terrifying, this sensation that his body was disconnected somehow from his mind.
Before Bill could dwell on it too much more, he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of someone resting their hand gently atop his. Snapping his gaze back into focus, Bill's eyes locked onto Emma, who had come over to sit beside him. She gently ran her arm up the skin of his forearm, and it was only as her fingers dragged through a strange wetness that he realized that he had drawn blood with his persistent worrying of the scar. Embarrassed and confused, he reached for his wand to clean up the mess, but Emma stopped him, facing him directly and placing her hands on both his arms, keeping him still. Tugging her own wand from her back pocket, she then pulled his injured arm gently back towards herself and muttered a quick healing charm, then cast a quiet scourgify once the cut had closed. Bill sighed in relief as the sensations of blood crusted under his nails and stinging pain vanished.
"Thanks so much, Em. You didn't need to do all that," He murmured gratefully, lowering his voice so as to not interrupt those praying close by. At his gratitude, she merely blushed prettily, offering him a sweet smile and a shrug.
"You would've done the same for me, I'm sure." There was a flirtatious tone to her voice, not the first time he had heard such a thing from her, and Bill grinned. He opened his mouth and nearly responded in kind, when a sudden feeling of guilt struck him like lightning. Emma was not her, his inner voice practically growling the thought. He tried to shake the voice away, wanting to flirt back. Emma was beautiful, funny, and kind, and she had been one of his best friends since his arrival at the Temple. The blonde American witch had been assigned to be his guide at first, giving him a tour of the epic underground labyrinth that made up his new home and helping him through the routine for the first few days. But even after he had settled in enough that the Givers released Emma from her duties, she stayed beside him. They sat together at meals, during meditation, and even did their evening chores together when they could. Why shouldn't he flirt with her, perhaps see if there was more between them? It wasn't uncommon for Seekers to enter relationships with one another. Bill tried once more to speak, to tell her that of course, he always helped pretty girls in need. But the words stuck in his throat.
He was saved just before the silence stretched too long by the sound of Giver Liu's voice, calling out a short list of names for counseling sessions. "Elias, Mateo, Katerina, Abilio, and Emma. Please report to the offices of the Givers." When her name was called, Emma practically jumped to her feet, full of energy as always, and dusted off her pale blue Seeker's robe. She whispered a quiet "see you at dinner" to Bill and then she was gone, leaving him staring after her and wondering what the hell was going on with him. He had never considered himself to really have a "type" in the physical sense. He had dated women with just about every color of hair and shade of skin imaginable, preferring to go more on personality than looks alone when searching for a partner. But as he watched Emma's retreating back, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment at the sight of her bleach-blonde pixie cut and deep tan. Picturing her instead with long, curly dark hair and cream-colored skin did things to him that he couldn't explain.
Deciding he had had enough of meditation for the day, Bill stood and stretched, trying to shake off the strange, lingering mix of guilt and anxiety. He had no reason to feel guilty about flirting with Emma, nor should he be worried about why his preferences had suddenly altered. People change, he reasoned with himself. But even as he cast a quick charm to remove any traces of dirt from his robe, he felt his stress level rising. He tried to breathe, realizing that the tension flooding his body was yet another physical reaction with no noticeable emotional cause. As he wove through the dozens of people scattered around the Sanctuary, Bill attempted to focus on the natural beauty of the place, as it always seemed to have a calming effect on him. He let his eyes drift over the ivy strands that draped the stone walls, the trees that sprung up randomly throughout the courtyard, and even paused at the little stream that bisected the room to dip his hands into the cold water. After scrubbing his now-icy hands over his face, Bill closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the forest-like scent and trying to let the cold bring him back to the present.
Panic was rapidly filling his chest as all his usual methods of calming himself were failing. Despite the fact that until that moment, his thoughts had been quite calm, his inability to relax his body was beginning to cause a spiral in his mind. Was he being attacked by some strange magic? Was he being punished somehow by the goddess? A sudden rush of gratitude washed over him at the sound of Giver Liu's voice, calling out to him. As Bill waited for the older wizard to come closer, he stepped away from the stream and opened his eyes, noticing that the Giver's dark, almond-shaped eyes were examining him warily, as though he were worried Bill was diseased. His dark gaze travelled rapidly over Bill's face and arms, but seemed satisfied at what he found- or did not find, Bill honestly wasn't sure. Casting an anxious glance up through the open ceiling of the Sanctuary as he approached, Giver Liu finally stopped in front of him, crossing his arms.
"William, I would like to schedule a meeting with you for later tonight, if that's alright with you." The Giver's tone indicated that it did not, in fact, matter to him whether or not Bill was alright with it.
"Should we not meet now?" Bill's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm meant to be cleansing the Sanctuary tonight, so-"
"No." Giver Liu cut him off harshly, an almost irate expression on his face at being questioned. "We will meet tonight. I am very busy this afternoon, but I would like to meet with you personally. Emma will take your shift for the evening." And just like that, the conversation was over and the Giver was stalking away, and Bill was left wondering why the normally easy-going Giver Liu seemed so on edge. He didn't have much time to ponder it, as Emma suddenly reemerged from the hallway that led to the Givers' offices and bounded up to him excitedly.
"Bill! Ready for dinner?" She chirped, looping her arm through his and steering him towards the dining hall.
"Always," He offered a wolfish grin, then stopped in his tracks, confused. "Weren't you meeting with one of the Givers?" Emma's face reflected his confusion right back at him.
"Yes, of course. We... just finished a few minutes ago?" Her voice ticked upwards, as if she were asking a question, and Bill realized he must have spent far longer by the river than he thought. "Bill? Is everything all right?" Emma was looking up at him, concern filling her face, as the arm that was not linked through his began reaching forward as if to touch his face. A sudden growl burst from his chest, the sound strangely primal and animalistic. Emma's hand snapped back down to her side, and a look of hurt washed over her delicate features. Stunned and a little frightened, Bill rushed to apologize.
"I'm so, so, sorry Em. I... I don't know what that was. I've been feeling strange all day." He tugged her around so that she was facing him directly, looking into her eyes so that she could see his earnestness. "Longer than that, honestly. All week, I've been off, and I don't know why." He added absentmindedly, running a hand through his hair as the distress that had eased during his conversation with the Giver began to rise again.
"Hey, it's alright," Emma crooned, wrapping her fingers around his bicep and pulling his hand from his hair. "You'll go bald if you keep that up, and I quite like that my boyfriend still has a full head of hair in his thirties." She winked at him and began pulling him along towards the dining hall once more. Caught off-guard by the way she had so flippantly called him her boyfriend, despite Bill being certain they had had no such conversation establishing a relationship, he didn't fight it as dragged him along. There was far too much going on in his head, and he decided to simply follow Emma's lead towards dinner. His stomach had been badgering him for the last half an hour of meditation, so perhaps he just needed some food to clear his head.
Hermione was certain that everyone around her could hear her heart breaking in her chest. She was kneeling in feigned meditation between two men, Polyjuiced as a twenty-something Hungarian boy named Tibor, who clearly sweated profusely if the smell of his robes was anything to go by. Anders, one of Bill's former partners, had insisted it was the best disguise for her to infiltrate the Temple with, since nobody wanted to get too close to a young man who had clearly not discovered the wonders of deodorant. And he had been right; the Givers and most of the Seekers had given her a wide berth, with only the men on either side of her staying somewhat close by. The trio were clearly friends, and Hermione felt somewhat bad for Tibor, as she was probably hurting the few relationships he had in this place. But she had to get to Bill.
Or, she thought she did. Watching him walk away, escorting the lovely blonde woman gallantly on his arm, Hermione had distinctly heard the girl- Emma, she thought her name was, call Bill her boyfriend. She had been watching him for a few days now, and there were none of the usual signs of the impending full moon. No cuts appearing on his knuckles, no charms being cast to keep the itching beneath his skin at bay, and even the way he had been touching his "girlfriend" seemed strange. Hermione remembered Bill before their first full moon together as a couple being unable to keep his hands off of her. They would get home in the evenings and all but tear one another's clothes off, and she distinctly remembered thinking that those nights in particular were what people called fucking. Any other time of the month, Bill was quite dominant still, but he was also often a gentle and considerate lover. Approaching the full moon, however, Hermione could not think of those times as just sex or "making love"- Bill was far rougher, more intense, more everything. Just a simple touch or suggestive look from her was enough to drive him wild, and he had even refused to hold her hand a few times when they were on outings with other people around, insisting that it simply wasn't kosher to Apparate away and fuck one's witch senseless. But the way he was touching and being touched by Emma told Hermione that no such urge to whisk the other girl away existed.
She had never felt so torn in her life, save for when she had figured out that Harry was a Horcrux. Bill was obviously happy here, and why shouldn't he be? Here, he wasn't discriminated against the way he so often was in England; despite not being a full werewolf, the mere knowledge that the scars on his face came from Fenrir Greyback meant that many turned their backs on him, as if he was fully infected with lycanthropy. Bill no longer had to cope with the awful physical symptoms that had plagued him for years, and Hermione knew that something about this place was fully suppressing the wolf within him. She had witnessed him just last night eating fully cooked meat at dinner without making a face, something he hadn't been able to do since Greyback's attack. And now he had a girlfriend, someone to care for him and love him. Who was she to take him away from all of that?
An uncomfortable bubbling sensation began under her skin, and Hermione realized that it was time for another dose of Polyjuice. Slipping the flask out from under her robe, she tried to take a sip, only to find that the container was empty. Panic flashed through her, and she knew she didn't have long before the bubbling would move from under her skin to over it, transforming her back into herself. Desperate, she all but leapt to her feet, grunted something to her companions about needing the bathroom, and turned to race out of the Sanctuary. She made it all the way down to the corridor of the men's bedrooms before she was forced to stop as the pain of the transformation became overwhelming. Ducking into an alcove, she tried to breathe through it, grimacing as she felt her bones shift, shrinking her down to her normal height. When it was finished she let out a heavy sigh of relief, then pulled out her wand and Disillusioned herself. It wasn't nearly as good as Harry's invisibility cloak, but it would have to do.
Creeping down the hall, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached Tibor's room, casting a silent Alohamora and tapping her wand three times against the wood. She glanced behind her, making certain that no one was watching, and slipped inside, nearly colliding with Anders as she did so. The curse breaker was quick on his feet, and before Hermione knew it he had her pinned to the floor, her Disillusionment cancelled and his wand at her throat.
"Anders!" She grunted, trying to shove him away and ignore the pleasant heat coming off his body. "It's just me, you daft wanker!" Looking properly abashed, Anders promptly rolled off of her and jumped to his feet, then reached down and offered her a hand. Hermione allowed him to help her up, then quickly settled into a dueling stance.
"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hear you knock!" He protested, rapidly dodging the series of Stinging Hexes she sent his way in retribution.
"Clearly," Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes and stowing her wand.
"Though I can't say I'm sorry about how we ended up. Every wizard loves having a pretty witch under him." He smirked at her, the flirtation rolling easily off his tongue. He smoothly ran a hand through his dark hair and flashed her that smoldering, bright green gaze that made all the witches back at the site headquarters go wild. Hermione smiled as she shook her head and rolled her eyes once more. The man was an incorrigible flirt, but they had become good friends over the course of the mission so she decided not to hex him again, knowing he meant nothing by it.
She brushed past him and moved further into the cramped room, taking a seat on the large bed and leaning against the wall, waiting for her vision to adjust to the gloom. Hermione hated this place, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why exactly it made her so unsettled. Certainly she hated it for holding Bill captive (though after what she had just witnessed in the Sanctuary, she wasn't entirely sure if he really was a captive), but it was more than that. Perhaps it was the lack of fresh air; despite being open to the sky, the Sanctuary was typically so full of other witches and wizards that Hermione felt no different from when she was inside. Or maybe it was the compulsion spell, which had been woven into the very magic that held this place together, ordering her to listen to the Givers. It was almost like a voice in the back of her mind, whispering that they could be trusted, that if she just gave herself over to them, she would find happiness unlike anything she'd ever known.
Of course, being a Curse Breaker, Hermione knew quite well that promises made by voices in the dark meant nothing. If she revealed herself to the Givers, she wasn't sure what exactly would happen, but she knew it would be bad. Rob, Bill's partner on this project, had been found less than a mile from the Temple, mutilated almost beyond recognition. Still, the magic was strong, and she spent the majority of her time during meditations and the morning rituals trying to fight it off. She was lucky that many of the Temple activities were carried out with little to no talking. It had been an utterly exhausting two weeks, first finding a replaceable Seeker and then observing him for several days so that Hermione could impersonate him effectively, since this mission would last much longer than the typical hour allotted by Polyjuice. Hermione had originally insisted that she extract Bill right away, but both the goblins and the site-supervisor wanted to observe him first. Nobody knew what spells exactly he was under; none of them had ever encountered anything this powerful to date, and there were well over a dozen Curse Breakers and Aurors in the search party whose entire jobs consisted of dealing with Dark magic.
So Hermione was stuck living in the Temple, pretending to be Tibor and now she couldn't help wondering if rescuing Bill was even the right thing to do. Everyone agreed he was under some sort of compulsion, though it couldn't be the same one that she herself was dealing with. That, she suspected, was a defense mechanism against outsiders. No, whatever was controlling Bill was much more powerful, and the answer wasn't as simple as the Imperius curse. But he seemed so much like himself, and so much at peace Hermione couldn't help but doubt herself. Would Bill hate being under a spell that controlled him? Of course, any wizard would. But he was clearly unaware of the enchantment, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Realizing that she was beginning to spiral and not feeling much inclined to go to the dining area, Hermione instead tried to walk through her usual series of steps when she was curse breaking. Breaking the spell down as much as she could to the parts, then trying to sort out where they interwove and what effect that had on each one were her first two steps, but they were failing her spectacularly now, making it nearly impossible to move forward. Parsing the different enchantments was nigh unto impossible with how hard she had to work to fight the compulsion spell at all times, and she felt herself drifting off to sleep as she battled yet another round of voices murmuring to her.
She woke with a start several hours later to find Anders curled up beside her on the bed. He had clearly repositioned her sometime during the night, as she was no longer sitting against the wall. Gratitude flooded Hermione as she carefully climbed over him and quietly began to stretch. The beds in the Temple were hardly plush, but she knew that a night sleeping against the wall would have wreaked havoc on her. As it was, her spine cracked so loudly from the rock-hard mattress that Anders startled awake, blearily drawing his wand on her once again. She batted it away easily, laughing.
"You should've been an Auror," Hermione smirked down at her companion. "Moody would've been thrilled with you."
"And why's that?" Anders replied, sitting up properly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Because you are excellent at his favorite principle. Constant vigilance!" And with that, she sent a wandless jelly-legs jinx his way, laughing even harder when he failed to dodge it and slid to the floor, his legs quaking beneath him.
"Alright Granger, enough, please," Anders grimaced, casting a finite incantatem over himself and climbing warily to his feet. Hermione grinned but relented, turning away to retrieve a new set of robes for the day. She sobered up quickly though as she pulled the smelly things over her head; already the compulsion was beginning its work, and she let out a quiet groan, rubbing at her temple as if that might make the whispers go away.
"You alright there Granger?" Anders was suddenly at her side, concern in his voice .
"Yeah, 'm fine," She mumbled, switching to using her thumbs against her forehead in a circular motion. The technique had frequently banished headaches from too-long study sessions while at Hogwarts, but it did nothing for her now. "Just hand me the Polyjuice, will you? I'd like to get that over with." Hermione knew she sounded unjustly resentful of her partner, but she couldn't bring herself to care too much at the moment.
"Erm- actually, they don't want you to take the potion today," Anders admitted, looking chagrined when Hermione whirled to face him, outrage on her face.
"What? Then why the hell do I have these bloody things on? They smell like shite. You should've told me-" Her quickly-rising voice was suddenly cut off by a wave of her partner's wand.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but someone was busy hexing me before I even got out of bed!" He hissed at her. "I'm sorry for silencing you, but you're being far too loud, and you seem to be in a terrible fucking mood so I'd like to just get this out. Alright?" Stunned, Hermione just nodded, feeling like she wouldn't be able to speak even if there was no spell keeping her silent. Embarrassment was rapidly flooding her system as she realized how rude she'd just been.
"Anyways," Anders huffed. "We're heading back above ground this morning. I got a note on your Galleon-thingies from Arthur and Molly that the goblins and the supervisors want a report so we can decide what to do next. Got it?" he asked, lifting the spell so that she could respond.
"Got it. Merlin, Anders, I'm so sorry," Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I don't know why I just lashed out at you like that."
"It's alright." He assured her, stepping across the room to her and wrapping her in a tight hug. "I understand." He murmured comfortingly into her hair. Hermione sighed and laid her head against his chest, feeling small but safe in his arms. After a moment, she suddenly realized she had lingered far too long for it to be appropriate and quickly turned away, blushing. She prayed Anders couldn't see her pink cheeks in the dimness and cursed herself for being so familiar with him. She was here for Bill. In an ideal world, once they rescued him from this place, Hermione fully intended to try and make amends for leaving him, and- in her most ambitious dreams- he took her back happily. She couldn't exactly picture that happening if she had been spending significant time in the arms of another man, romantic interest or not.
Thankfully, Anders didn't seem to have noticed anything, so she felt comfortable returning to his side after shucking off the offending robe and taking his proffered arm. Apparition, thankfully, was not warded against here, so Hermione allowed him to whisk them easily away to the nearby site headquarters. As soon as they landed, Arthur and Molly rushed forward, each one taking a moment to pull her in for a tight hug. She let out a squeak of surprise when Mrs. Weasley's arms wrapped around her, but quickly relaxed into the other woman's embrace when Molly whispered "Thank you, Hermione. For looking after my boy."
"It's nothing, Molly," Hermione responded, embarrassed by the tears she saw welling up in the woman's eyes.
"It's really not, Hermione, and we know it." Arthur interjected sternly. Hermione turned back to him, surprised, and he elaborated at her confused look. "Anders has been reporting back every night through the Galleons- incredibly clever invention, by the way-" He interrupted himself to give her a proud smile, and she couldn't help smiling back. "We know how difficult it's been for you to fight the compulsion spell, so we figured it was high time to pull you out and let you rest while we figure out a new plan."
"But Arthur-" Hermione tried to protest. She couldn't abandon Bill and would be happy to suffer a full-fledged migraine every day for the rest of her life if it meant he was safe. But Arthur was having none of it and cut her off with a stern look.
"Hermione. This is for us as much as it is for you." Arthur spoke in that firm, authoritarian tone he had adopted only once before in her hearing, at the disastrous dinner at the Burrow. "We need to make a new plan. Bill is obviously safe for the time being, but we need to do more research. We don't even know if removing him from this place will break the spell on him." She huffed out an irritated sigh. Arthur was right, but Hermione disliked being so far from Bill, where she could not watch over him. She took a deep breath, preparing to argue, but Molly seemed to anticipate her reaction and stepped forward quickly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her somewhat forcefully back to the camp. When they reached the large group of tents, Molly ushered her determinedly into the one she had been sharing with a few other female curse breakers before going undercover, leaving her with firm orders to rest. Hermione sighed, knowing it was no use to fight with the woman. Laying down on the nearest bunk, she closed her eyes, letting sleep wash over her.
Later that afternoon, after she had napped for several hours, Hermione emerged from her tent with a much clearer head. That one nap had been more restful than all of her nights in the Temple, and she could see more easily now the sense in regrouping. She also quickly sought out Anders, apologizing again for her behavior that morning.
"Granger, I promise, it's alright." He brushed her apology off with a laugh. "Now come on, they're having a meeting in the big tent about what we're going to do now." Hermione sighed, still feeling like an arsehole, and decided not to argue when Anders slipped his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the large canvas structure in the center of camp. However, her feelings of frustration quickly ebbed away when her partner lifted the flap of the tent and gestured her inside. Despite having lived in a magically enlarged tent herself for nearly a year, Hermione still felt awed as she stepped into the room. It was practically palatial, or at least as palatial as a tent could be. Her boots clicked on marble floors, and two flights of stairs greeted her immediately upon entry, one on each side of the room, leading up to what she assumed had to be bedrooms. Further inside, there was a large round table, laden with food and drinks for everyone as they discussed strategy. A door behind the table was cracked open, revealing kitchen cupboards and a Muggle refrigerator. The sight made her grin- clearly Bill's preference for the appliance had caught on.
Slipping quietly into the room, Hermione stepped towards the wall, intending to just stand and listen while the others talked. Since she was no longer a curse breaker, she had little to no authority with this group, and she knew it. She was surprised, however, when she locked eyes with Harry and he gestured animatedly at her to come and take the seat beside him. Anders followed her as she circled the room, pulling out her chair for her and helping her in, then taking the seat to her other side. Hermione shot him a questioning look- his behavior had always been very appropriate up to this point. Casual touches here and there that were completely within the realm of normal. He had flirted with her a few times, but it had never seemed particularly serious. And although they had gotten quite familiar with one another in the Temple, sharing the bed and working together to try and solve the enchantments, she had never felt that it meant anything to him. They were just colleagues. But that embrace this morning had felt different, and now he was acting like a gentleman, pulling out her chair? And moving her in her sleep like he had done last night wasn't something he had done before. Confusion rolled over her in waves, but there was no more time to think about it when she heard a loud voice calling the meeting to order.
The talking seemed to go on for hours. Hermione chimed in here and there when she felt it necessary, but mostly she just listened. She was beyond grateful that Bill had become such a valuable employee to Gringotts; the goblins were actually being very considerate of his safety, despite the fact that they were more invested in the Temple itself. This was still a job site for them, after all, the wizards and witches that were not curse breakers had simply been invited in to find Bill. But he clearly meant a lot to nearly everyone at the table, so it was rather easy to simply allow the others to strategize. By the time they had reached a conclusion, Hermione felt quite satisfied that everything from here on out would go smoothly, and she had completely forgotten about Anders' strange behavior from earlier.
It was only when the meeting was over that she was reminded of it, after Anders leaned in to her and offered to walk her back to her tent. Praying that she had been reading too much into things, Hermione agreed, and for most of the walk back things were as easy and pleasant between them as always. There was a moment, just as they reached her tent, that she was afraid that she had been right- Anders made a seemingly off-hand remark about how brown-eyed witches had always been his favorite. Unsure of how to react, Hermione had simply laughed uncomfortably before bidding him goodnight and slipping into her tent. She would need every bit of sleep she could get before tomorrow, in order to keep her head clear and her senses sharp.
She woke up early and dressed carefully, pulling out muggle clothing from her curse breaking days that would easily pass as a backpacker's clothes. Hiking boots were slipped on next, and then Hermione cast a quick glamour, making herself appear a bit more rugged and dirty than she really was. Finally, she emptied her book bag that normally carried her research tomes and transfigured it into a backpack, filling it with her necessities. When she was ready, she stepped out of the tent prepared to hunt down her travel companion. To her surprise, Anders was standing just outside, and he grinned at the sight of her.
"Perfect." He assessed her appearance and assured her with a nod. "Do I look alright?"
"Let me just..." Hermione trailed off as she focused, summoning another glamour to make his general filthiness match hers. He grimaced as the magic settled over his skin, but then smiled when she gave him one last once over and nodded her approval.
"Then let's go, my love," He said teasingly, extending his hand. Hermione took a deep breath, then placed her hand in his, feeling the tight squeeze of side-along apparition before they landed hard on a dirt road. She nearly toppled over at the impact, but Anders quickly caught her, steadying her with a hand placed intimately on her hip before he stepped back, lacing his fingers through hers.
"Ready?" For perhaps the first time since she'd met him, Hermione thought Anders seemed nervous, but she didn't want to waste any more time. She needed to get back to Bill, see him up close and know that he was alright.
"Ready." She nodded firmly, squeezed his hand tightly, and let him lead the way down the path. As the sun rose over the lush green valley, Hermione could just make out the crater in the ground that indicated the presence of the Sanctuary. A chill rolled over her skin, but she refused to let it show as they approached the gated entry of the Temple, instead pasting a sappy smile on her face. When a Giver greeted them at the threshold, she could feel him poke ever so slightly at her mind, and quickly pushed forward the memories of Anders flirting with her the night before, suffusing into it a feeling of happiness. But even after he withdrew, seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Hermione kept up the act, and gazed adoringly up at her partner as he introduced them.
"My name is Michael, and this is Julia. My wife."