Granger, we need to talk

Chapter 7 (6.3)

Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling

I, sadly, do not get any knuts for this

The bodies carry scars also

My apologies for being a few days late with this chapter. I'm in the wilds of southwest

Pennsylvania and there is no practical WiFi nearby.

As a Mea Culpa, I will shorten the posting cycle for the next chapter.

Things had been going so well Harry's brain wailed.

It had taken until supper the first night for the seven young adults to start regarding each other as . . . maybe not friends, but more than acquaintances. Harry had cooked a quick shepherd's pie with lots of mutton and potatoes for protein and carbohydrates, with a side of summer squash and a salad because the group had burned a lot of energy and tomorrow they would be working harder. Everyone had raved about his cooking. Compliments about the pizza next night had truly made him feel appreciated. Even Anthony and Megan had joined in the teasing and ribald comments the group had made amongst themselves as they tired from the work and itched from the dirt and dust that covered them. All six had endorsed the idea that Anthony was too formal a name when he was being worked like a house elf. Somehow it came out that Anthony's middle name was Terrence. When Ginny had started calling him Ay-Tee, the rest had joined in ribbing the rather straight laced Ravenclaw.

The final bond came after Hermione dubbed them the Magnificent Seven, and then had to explain the movie. And then explain what a movie was, and then explain . . .

Personally, he had actually had two nights of no nightmares. He had not slept much because he woke up after four hours or so anyway and was afraid to go back to sleep because the nightmares might appear then. He could handle this, because to him, this was good. He could handle short of sleep better then short of sleep with his mind exhausted from wrestling with nightmares.

Then, distracted by the pretty girls in revealing bathing suits getting in the pool, he had acted like a normal young man and dropped his robe to join the party.

"Merlin and Morgana! How are you still alive?"

Harry felt himself immediately hunch over and turn his back away from everybody in the room.

Blindly fumbling for the robe he had so carelessly dropped, he refused to meet anybody's eyes.

Grabbing the robe, he clutched it to his chest and started sidling out of the bathing room. He made six steps when he suddenly realized that Hermione and Ginny had somehow gotten out of the pool and were blocking his escape.

"Please move, Hermione. Please," he pleaded.

Even with the tears that were starting to flow down her cheeks she shook her head No.

Suddenly her wand flew into her hand. She first tapped the top of her head, then her face between her eyes, then swept the front of her body and finally, she tapped her left arm below the elbow.

Harry gasped in agony, because he was not sure what the rest of the wand movements had been for, but the last seared his psyche to the bone.

"Look at me, Harry! Raise your eyes and look at me!" she commanded.

Harry refused to look up.

"Damn you, Harry! Look at me!"

Harry closed his eyes as he raised his head, not opening them until he figured he could look Hermione in the eyes only. Desperately he locked eyes with her, refusing to let them look elsewhere.

His plan was doomed to failure. Slowly Hermione raised her left arm in front of his face. The cursed word carved into the white skin of her forearm had Harry starting to feel light-headed.

MUDBLOOD.

"It's not your fault, Harry. And this one is not your fault," she continued placing his right hand just below her bikini top over the center of the long brick-red scar that ran diagonally from her left collar bone, between her breasts down to almost her right hip. It had been created by Dolohov's curse after she followed Harry to the Ministry to save Sirius.

"This is not your fault," as she pressed his left hand onto the jagged scar that actually seemed to be missing meat on the outside of her right leg just below her hip.

"And these?" she relentlessly continued, waving the hand not holding onto Harry over her body at the literally dozens of small slice and pucker scars that littered her skin. "Do you honestly believe you caused all these?"

Harry just looked at her mutely, agony in his eyes.

"You didn't cause those, and you didn't cause these Harry," came Ginny's voice from his side. "Look at me."

Apparently while he was focused on Hermione, Ginny had also dropped the glamours she was using on her body.

Scars, red and pink, often long, crisscrossed the front of her body. As she proceeded to slowly turn around, Harry could see her back and the backs of her legs were crisscrossed also. He sank to his knees as tears started to stream down his face.

"All I wanted was to keep you safe. But I wasn't fast enough, or strong enough. I took too sodding long! It all happened to you because of me-e-e-ee! I couldn't protect you!" he screamed at the last.

It took a while, but Harry returned to the outside world realizing he was wrapped in the arms of two witches. He just stopped thinking for a few minutes and enjoyed the peace and quiet. It could not last though. He suddenly wondered where the others were when he couldn't hear them. He raised his head up and looked around. The bathroom was empty except for the three of them.

"Where are they?" he whispered.

"They finished and went back to the tent," came Hermione's quiet reply.

Harry cleared his throat so he could talk. "Right. Can we go now?" he said as he rose to his feet.

"In a bit," said Ginny. The girls grabbed an arm each as he rose. "We haven't had our bath yet. And neither have you. There's no one here except us, so no excuses, Potter."

Harry found himself being frog marched around to the other end of the pool where the two witches dropped off their wands, and then to his surprise, with a smirk to each other, the pair threw him into the pool. As he emerged through the bubbles spluttering, he found them advancing on him armed with wash clothes, soap and bottles of shampoo. To his intense embarrassment, the girls started washing him down. They didn't flinch and they didn't comment. Harry was so grateful about their lack of reaction to his scars, he found tears starting in his eyes again.

Part way through, Ginny switched to shampooing his hair, ducking him underwater to rinse and re-applying shampoo when she thought one shampooing was not enough. Harry found the experience both erotic and embarrassing. The embarrassment made him happy he was underwater from his waist down hiding his reaction to the erotic. The girls washed themselves, but dragooned Harry into shampooing their mops of hair. Harry was surprised at how soothing the act was for him.

It was not until the trio started drying themselves that Harry started worrying about what was waiting for him at the tent. The girls wound towels around their hair and started leading Harry back to the tent. Before they got to the Grand Staircase, the pair of girls shared a look and turned to Harry.

"What worries you most about going back to the tent, Harry" Hermione asked.

Harry just looked at his slippers.

Ginny cleared her throat. "You know what I hated about the Carrows? They made me feel weak. They toyed with me just like they would toy with the first years. I hated the feeling that I was powerless against them."

"Are you afraid your new friends are going to think you're weak now Harry?" Hermione quietly asked.

Harry nodded mutely.

"Being weak is what every enemy you've ever had accused you of. It started with your relatives, didn't it? A dozen years of abuse."

Nod.

"Then Quirrellmort accused you of being weak first year. Second year it was Diary Voldemort, fourth and fifth Year it was Voldemort in person claiming how weak you were. For six years it was Snape constantly belittling you. And last year that forever be-damned locket actually made all of us weak."

Hermione took a deep breath. "They are all gone. You may have a collection of scars from the hells you've traveled through, but you have survived. I'm sure your nightmares tell you how helpless and weak you are, but those of us in your waking world know you are a forged in fire Warrior."

Harry just stared at her.

"Well, since you won't believe me standing here, how about we go get some of Kreacher's dinner?"

And with that, two battered warriors dragged another battered and be-damned warrior to the tent for some needed food.

Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO

Dinner was quiet. No one talked about Harry's mental meltdown, preferring to stick with hopefully safe topics like the wonderful taste of Kreacher's chicken dinner or what spells they would be learning tomorrow. Harry did not speak and sat with his eyes downcast, and as soon as he finished his food he headed into the Boys Bedroom and crawled into his bed.

With Harry gone, the remaining six teens looked at each other. Anthony only looked at Hermione and Ginny. He that broke the thickening silence in a soft voice.

"I do not think that Harry Potter is a nutter. However he does look as though he hasn't slept in a month. And that lack seems to be contributing to the fact he is that far from a total breakdown." Anthony espoused, holding his thumb and fore finger a quarter inch apart.

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other. The two friends seemed to come to an agreement without speaking. Hermione turned back to Anthony and opened her mouth to speak when . .

"It's the nightmares, isn't it" blurted Susan. "I'm getting them three, sometimes four, nights per week. I'm sick of being afraid to sleep at night because it could be another night when I see those bastards torture and kill my Aunt and her guards."

Susan refused to hang her head to hide her tears.

"About twice a week. It's the dead in the courtyard. I knew Jacobson, Emmerstal, Shieldman and of course, Lavender," said Padma quietly.

"I'm with Padma," Megan spoke softly, just above a whisper. "Except most of the dead I knew were older. They were friends of my fiancé. The rest are the staring dead from the Killing Curse."

"Mostly what Padma said," added Anthony.

The four looked expectantly at Hermione and Ginny.

Ginny sighed. "Since after Voldemort possessed me in first year, he's been popular in my sub-conscious. And let's not forget the Crucio's and the cutters from the Carrow's. And Colin and Remus and Tonks, Lavender, Romilda and Harry being dead when Hagrid carried him up to the school. I have . . ." Her voice tailed off. "Oh, bloody hell. Tonight's gonna be bad," she thought.

Now it was five staring at Hermione. She decided to dodge the questions in their eyes.

"You can pick any year. Do you know between Harry or Ron or I, one of us has almost died every year at this school? It was supposed to be the safest place in the world." Hermione deliberately put her face into a thousand yard stare. "Oddly, it didn't quite work out that way."

After a few moments of silence, Anthony said, "He's going to have a really bad night, isn't he? Any way to stop it?"

Hermione started slowly nodding. "Yes, there is."

"Well?"

In a detached, clinical voice she started speaking. "One of us will have to sleep with him. It calms him down most nights. If he goes off, having a person there to wake him up quickly usually helps him to fall asleep again."

As she was speaking, Ginny's face had started to mimic a swelling volcano prior to exploding. Flushed skin, narrow glaring eyes and pressed lips.

"And just how do you know that, you bint?" roared through Ginny's head.

"However, Ginny and I cannot be the one tonight. We have . . . control issues. I am of the opinion that if we thought it would help him, we would shag him until his brain dribbled out his ears. Short term? Good solution. Long term? Bad idea."

The gobsmacked looks on everyone else's face could have been comical. Just not tonight.

She continued in that same calm, unemotional voice. "Padma, you can't either. This is a bad time to seduce Harry in an attempt to solve some of the problems you've talked about having." "If you still want him, try after school term starts."

Hermione now had two ready to erupt volcanos.

"Megan. You have a fiancé. I reckon he would be very unhappy if told you were sleeping in a bed with the Man Who Conquered."

"So," she tracked her head around and fixed Susan with a glare that had the blonde thinking killing curses could be brown colored. No wand needed.

"You will have to be a Second Wife if you want to continue the Bones Family line, correct? Since you might end up with a purity clause in your marriage contract, I believe you can be trusted to stay out of Harry's pajamas tonight."

The blunt, emotionless voice Hermione had used in her pronouncements was leaving the room breathless.

"Why don't we go to your room and get you into some nice sexless pajamas. Oh, and let's not forget a blanket keep you warm. Wouldn't want you sliding under the blankets with him 'cause you're cold."

Again, the look on Susan's face would have had laughter rolling through the tent any night except tonight.

"Don't worry, Bones. Hermione and I will escort you and tuck you in," came the icy look and comment from Ginny. It was obvious to everyone she was unhappy with the plan, but would not try to stop it.

Harry woke up early the next morning. He knew it was just before dawn because he could barely see, and he had spelled the tent to mimic the day/night cycle outside. The necessity of wakening early had been brutally ingrained in him during his abused years. Today was one of those pleasant mornings when he did not feel any urgency to get out of bed except that generated by his bladder. No head invasions by Voldemort overnight made for pleasant mornings.

His lazy attempt to move was suddenly halted by a familiar weight draped upon his chest. He was a bit surprised in that usually, past experience should have him inhaling a mouthful of bushy brown hair about now.

Cracking open his eyes, he was startled to find he did not have a mass of brunette hair sprawled across his chest. Instead the hair was blond and when he picked his head up, he could see a long braid trailing down her back. That meant the sleeping weight on him was Susan Bones. Harry was so startled he twitched and that started the awakening of his blanket covered snuggler. Harry decided to stay still as she raised her head off his shoulder and gave a sleepy grin while looking at him.

"Morning Potter,'" she said as her grin widened. "I personally think this would be a whole lot more fun if I was under the blankets with you, don't you think?"

Even while Harry flushed bright red, he suddenly noticed that Susan was lying on top of his blankets with another blanket over her for warmth.

The relief Harry felt let him relax and drop back onto his pillow.

"Bones," he murmured. "We've got to stop meeting like this. When we're found out, hexes will fly."

That elicited a quiet chuckle from Susan.

"I now understand why some girls like sleeping with men. This could be . . . become habit forming. I felt, faintly, but noticeably, our magics touching last night."

Harry picked his head up again, his eyebrows rising in surprise to look Susan in her eyes again.

"That's right, Harry. In fact, when I felt your magics, um, disturbance, I realized you were starting a nightmare. I'm actually thinking that I may have stopped it before it fully started."

She looked pensive for a moment before continuing. "Maybe this is what Auntie meant about the Bone's Family Gift. If we have it, we can feel people's magic. You have very nice magic, by the way."

They both lay quietly, lost in their thoughts.

Some time later, Susan reached for her wand and cast Tempus.

"It's time for me to go. Thank you Harry for the peaceful sleep. I'm going to give you the credit for me not having my usual nightmare last night."

She started sitting up and poked her feet through the bed's side curtains. She turned around and shot him a mischievous grin.

"You know Harry? You were a very good cuddle in bed despite three layers of chastity blankets between us."

And while Harry's brain struggled to follow her morning comments, Susan stood up, wrapped her blanket around her and walked out of the bedroom.

The excellent breakfast that Kreacher prepared was eaten quietly. Despite how good it tasted, nobody commented on it.

Hermione and Ginny were both hollow eyed and wan. Their night had obviously been bad and their faces showed sleeplessness had taken a toll.

Susan and Harry looked tired but not especially so. Any urge Susan had to tease the other two girls had vanished upon seeing their faces.

Anthony, Padma and Megan varied somewhere in between the two pairs.

Harry was looking at the strung out pair with worry in his eyes. He was still feeling guilty.

He knew just how difficult it had been for them to expose their scarred bodies in public. He reckoned the only reason he would have consciously bared his body to the pity or ridicule of the others, would have been to save their lives.

The non-Gryffindor four had no clue about what to say to the other three.

They thought of how Harry had reacted to the public unveiling of his scars, and how Hermione and Ginny in trying to comfort him, had disclosed the price paid by their bodies in the war. They were afraid that anything they said would sound pitying.

The person who did that would probably die from the cuts that the tongue lashing from the trio would leave on their bodies.

Hermione was reading the mood of the others around the breakfast table. The others thought that her and Ginny's haunted look came from a combination of lack of sleep, worry about Harry and what the others might think about their physical scarring. They were mostly correct, but partly wrong. What they didn't know, thanks to the powerful silencing charms, was the coldly furious row that had started in her and Ginny's room after `tucking Susan in'.

It started with, "You faithless slag. Did you enjoy shagging my boyfriend while you two were gone?" And deteriorated from there.

The accusations and denials lasted about half an hour. The Ginny yelling only lasted about half that before her throat became too raw to keep screaming. Hermione kept denying, denying. Sometimes her voice rose to match Ginny's shouting, but it was a testament to their war forced maturity that wands were not pulled and blows were not used. The argument finally ended when Hermione drew her wand, held the tip to her lips and intoned, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear on my life and my magic that I had neither vaginal intercourse nor oral sex with Harry James Potter while traveling in Australia."

After the glow around her faded, she held her wand up and said "Lumos". The tip lit brightly. Ginny's infamous Weasley temper popped like a pricked balloon.

"You never . . "

"Nope"

"But, how did you know?"

"Did the same thing we did with Bones. Sometimes he spoke your name in his sleep."

The last broke Ginny. She collapsed to the floor on her knees and started sobbing. The sobbing escalated into broken-hearted wails. Hermione was thoroughly confused by what was happening. The best she figured she could do was to kneel next to Ginny and gather her into her arms. Ginny curled herself into the comforting arms of the older girl as the wrenching sobs continued.

As the sobbing abated to hiccups, the younger girl started talking.

"I want to love him so badly it hurts. My stomach actually hurts, Hermione. But we are not going to last in the long run. For years I dreamed about being on Harry's arm at parties and balls, playing the great Lady, being in love with Harry Potter. The problem is, I've spent years developing this fun, outgoing Ginny personality for myself that I actually like. But Harry will always want to be quiet and solitary. You know how he shuns his fame. We would hate each other in a short time because we want completely different lives in a few years."

Hermione had no idea what to say. She felt for her best girlfriend, yet thought what she had said was spot on. There was nothing for her to say.

Later when they unpeeled themselves from the floor, Ginny shyly asked if Hermione would hold her tonight. So, they spent the night together, hoping to keep the night terrors away. Hermione had one last thought before falling into restless sleep.

"What is it with mental meltdowns tonight?"

Her mental musings halted as the group started to leave the table. Hermione held out a hand and stopped everyone.

She did not even bother to glare. Her look promised she might not kill them if they disobeyed her, but that she probably would.

"What you saw last night is not to be talked about to anyone not here now. The war should have taught you not to blab secrets around. Understood?"

The return nods were unnecessary. The she-wolf had spoken.

Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO

The Magnificent Seven were gathered in the same, but now clean, room when Snarfarg and Makfang arrived with Head Mistress McGonagall. The rorostarchus forms had been cleaned by Ginny and were ready.

McGonagall regarded the forms with interest. Snarfarg started by talking to her about the types of spells he thought wizards would need to use as he demonstrated how to make a large wall. First he pointed at spot where the ceiling met a wall and then drew his clawed nail down.

He then swept the claw along the long side of the large panel. The panel expanded to about ten feet by five feet. He explained he first used mishiu magic to measure how tall the wall had to be. Then drohmadrohma magic to expand the panel. Droghotomus was poured into the frame to the one inch mark, the leveling rake smoothed it out. Snarfarg pointed out the rake was enchanted to send excess sand back into the sack. A pass of his hand over the frame, a kroika incantation, and a six-inch thick stone wall appeared in the frame, laying on the floor.

"As you see Headmistress," said Snarfarg. "This is how to make a wall that does nothing. It is uselessly lying on the floor. You need to use wizard spells to measure the height and width the wall panel has to be. A spell to re-size the panel. A sticking charm of some type to keep the sand on a vertical panel and a spell to remove the top, bottom and side of the frame so the new stone would sit on the floor and touch any ceiling and wall stone then a hardening charm keep accidental spell work from damaging the stone.

McGonagall had watched closely as this type of work was new to her also.

She pointed her wand at the ceiling corner and muttered a spell. More pointing at the panel, more muttering. Sand flew into the panel, the rake performed its leveling job, and the Head Mistress then removed the three boards that would touch the existing stone, then levitated the panel vertically into place. A quick wand movement and the sand expanded and transfigured into patterned stone. A Nolite Obdurare charm and a half-thickness, permanent wall piece was done.

"We're going to have to change this somehow. I estimate the sand on that piece of wall weighed almost five-hundred pounds. I sincerely doubt Mr. Potter and Miss Granger together could levitate two pieces per day into place. We would exhaust everyone's magical core by ten ay-em."

"So we are going to change the process from how the goblins do it." McGonagall conjured a chair and sat in it.

"Notes, Miss Granger," McGonagall started. Hermione pulled out a paper pad and a pen. McGonagall let it pass with a raised eyebrow. "I will get the goblins to give us double everything. And you are going to need some more help. If you will come by my office after lunch Miss Granger, we shall send owls to the best Charms students that are planning on returning." At the shifting that statement caused among the seven students, she smiled. "Yes, I know most of you have Outstanding grades in Charms. However, from how you all look, three days of all day spell-casting while cleaning has worn you down to a nub."

"Now," she continued. "First I will teach you the measurement charm, Metamuru . Next, to enlarge the sand panels, the Engorgio Planus. Then a temporary sticking charm for the sand, Lignum Unum Harenae. Remove the frame with an Autauferate, transfigure the sand to stone, and finally a Nolite Obdurare for hardening the stone. A Sicut Ferum to make the stone spell resistant, and we will figure what charms to use for decorations later."

McGonagall stood up. "Master Stone Builder Snarfarg, please make some marks on the floor to show us where the wall sections are to be placed."

"Ladies, Gentlemen, gather round and let us begin."

A/N

Before the Howlers start arriving, Yes I know I have left out a

lot of steps in the wall building. But it was becoming even more boring.

Levels for getting the walls plumb, 'toothing' the panel edges where

they join for more strength, etc. Oh, BTW, I will hex into oblivion the

first person to mention curved walls

I know that PTSD may respond to, but is not cured by sleeping with

another person. However, it is practically FanFic Canon that it does.

So mote be it.