A Spot of Trouble

adamolupin

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 23/09/2006
Last Updated: 23/09/2006
Status: completed

Hermione learns an important lesson: always read the labels.

Chapters

1. A Spot of Trouble

1. A Spot of Trouble

A/N: Ehh, still not quite happy with this, but I figured it's about as good as it's gonna get. This is completely unrelated to “Lessons” or its affiliated stories. It's just a quick, un-beta'd one-shot from nowhere. If there are any mistakes please let me know so I can fix them! And please, no one shoot me for the title. I have a soft spot for puns.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione woke on a beautiful Monday morning, excited to face the day and all the challenges that went with it like the Arithmancy test that morning, keeping Harry alive, the Charms quiz, and pissing off Ron (which really wasn't much of a challenge, but seeing how far she could push it before Harry started mediating was). And it was the first “official” day that she and Harry would begin dating.

She bounced out of bed while Parvati and Lavender groaned and turned away, snuggling further under their blankets. Hermione rolled her eyes at them, too excited to even mentally scold them.

Humming softly to herself, she all but skipped into the bathroom. Yes, today was going to be a - “EEEP!”

One look in the mirror and Hermione wanted to dive under the sinks. “No!” she gasped, rushing toward her image when all she wanted to do was run away. A spot! She had a spot! And it wasn't just any spot; it was the size of Malfoy's ego! “Oh please, Merlin, any day but today!”

“Misplace your Charms notes?” Lavender asked dragging herself into the bathroom with a huge yawn.

“I have a spot!” Hermione shrieked pointing to the pulsating red thing on her nose.

“Eew,” Lavender replied maturely, cringing away. “That's no spot, that's a bloody mountain!”

Hermione scowled and stomped her foot. “Not helping! Please, please, please do something to it! You and Parvati have to have some potion or charm or something to get rid of it or cover it up!”

“Ok, ok, calm down. I've got just the thing,” Lavender replied returning to their dorm room. Hermione tried brushing her hair and teeth, but every time she looked in the mirror she winced, tangling her brush in her hair and getting toothpaste all over her cheek.

After what seemed like an eternity Lavender returned with Parvati in tow. “Sorry, I ran out so I had to borrow some,” Lavender explained holding up a small virulent purple bottle. “Put a dab of this on your - ahem - spot and it should clear up in a jiff!”

“Thank you so much,” Hermione sighed pouncing on the bottle. “I owe you one!”

“You helped me with my Muggle Studies test last week, so consider us squared.”

Hermione dabbed a bit on the tip of her finger and applied it very carefully to her blemish.

“So you and Harry eh?” Parvati grinned, leaning against a sink, never one to pass up an opportunity for some gossip.

A smile came unbidden to Hermione's face. “Yeah, yesterday,” she replied, feeling unusually judicious after the two had helped her (though she wasn't quite sure how Parvati had helped, but it didn't matter much).

Hermione stepped back to watch the salve work, but instead of the spot shrinking like it should have, her nose slowly turned as purple as the bottle. She whirled on the two girls, her hair frizzing out in rage. “PURPLE!” was all she could shriek.

Lavender and Parvati stared, aghast. “Oh no,” Parvati moaned, reading the label. “It says here to use before the expiration date and this expired over a week ago!”

“I'm sorry, Hermione, I borrowed it from that fourth year, Jaz Tavish,” Lavender spoke up.

“It's ok, it's ok. I'll just run to the infirmary before my test. Thanks anyway,” Hermione replied trying very hard to be thankful when all she wanted to do was scream about reading labels.

She hurried past her dorm mates and after quickly dressing and wrapping her red and gold scarf securely around her neck and lower half of her face, she ran downstairs to Madam Pomfrey.

Everything was mercifully quiet and deserted when she showed up. “Madam Pomfrey?” she called out heading toward her office at the end of the ward.

“Yes?” The older woman hurried out with obvious concern. “Miss Granger. What can I - oh dear.”

Hermione had unwrapped her face and revealed her purple spotted nose.

“It looks like you used some expired spot remover.”

Hermione nodded morosely. “Is there anything you can do for it?”

“I'm sorry dear. I can remove the spot, but the purple has to fade on its own.”

Hermione groaned in frustration wanting to bury her head in her hands. “How long will that take?”

“Generally twenty four hours. Sometimes a bit less,” Madam Pomfrey replied walking over to her cabinet and selecting a bottle. “Apply this to the spot and it'll go away. If you'd like I could give you some more expired spot remover and make your whole face purple.”

All Hermione wanted to do was stomp her foot and have a tantrum, but she refrained. “No thank you. I can at least hide my nose behind my scarf. My whole face might be a bit more difficult.”

She rubbed the lotion on her nose in front of a mirror and watched as the spot shrank then disappeared completely but the purple remained. “If he really loves me, he won't care and he won't laugh in my face. Ron on the other hand . . . I'd better have a hex prepared just in case,” she whispered to herself, smoothing out her uniform and wrapping the scarf around her neck.

“It's always good to be prepared, dear,” the mirror replied encouragingly hopeful.

“Thanks,” Hermione replied, muffled by her scarf. It was hard to breathe, but it would have to do.

As she walked down to the Great Hall, she wondered how she was going to eat and how she was going to excuse the scarf when she had no outdoor classes and no classes in the dungeon that day and the castle was perfectly warm. She'd have to tough it out. She could do it. She'd been in far worse situations. A purple nose was nothing to Death Eaters and Voldemort and Dementors and other such proper noun horrors.

Hermione let out another small `eep' upon seeing Harry laughing at Ron across the table, happily eating his breakfast, a spot open for her next to him. She couldn't do this! Wishing she could take a deep breath with the scarf over her face, Hermione strode confidently into the Great Hall and sat next to Harry as if nothing were wrong.

“Morning,” Harry said absently leaning over to give Hermione a kiss but was instead met with a face full of wooly scarf. “Er -“

“Hermione, are you alright?” Ron asked cocking his head quizzically.

“Never better!” she chirped. “Well, except for this cold,” she added when Harry and Ron just stared at her. She coughed unconvincingly. “That's what the scarf is for. I don't want to spread it around.”

“Why didn't you just get a Pepper-Up from Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Um . . .” Think fast Hermione! “I did! But she said I might still be contagious.” Merlin she hated lying to Harry.

Ron leaned way back in his seat, clearly torn between eating and hiding his nose under the collar of his robes.

Hermione gave him a glare for his efforts. “Honestly Ron, Harry's more likely to get it than you.”

Harry didn't look too pleased with that, but at least he didn't move away.

“So long as he's fit and healthy for the match this weekend,” Ron warned, glaring across the table at her.

“Oi, who's the captain here?” Harry laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them reminding herself that she wasn't sick and that she shouldn't get bent out of shape over Ron's scolding to Harry to not snog his newly minted girlfriend -

“Excuse me?” Hermione cut in, her tone soft and sharp if a bit muffled.

Ron looked over at her and gulped.

“Do I look like a figurine to you?” she asked in the same deceptively soft voice, her eyes narrowing over the scarf.

Ron let out a small `eep' before leaping off the bench as if his trousers had been lit. “I'vegottagoandstudyforthatCharmsquiz,I'llseeyoutwolaterbye!”

Harry quirked his eyebrows up watching Ron all but run out of the Hall. “Well, that got Captain Ron off my back, thanks love,” he grinned at her. “I'd kiss you, but, well you look like your face is being eaten by your scarf.”

Hermione let out a surprised laugh and even though he couldn't see it, she smiled. “Thank you, I needed that.”

“Crap morning?”

“Not one of my better ones, no.”

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the tip of her ear showing above the scarf. “Anything I can do to make it better?”

Hermione was mesmerized by his eyes hovering so close to her. It took all the will power she had not to yank down the stupid scarf and snog him senseless. You could make my nose skin toned again, she thought. “Maybe later tonight,” she replied, turning off the bench and walking away making sure to add a little sway to her hips.

She glanced over her shoulder to watch Harry watching her intently. Maybe there was something to these feminine wiles after all, she thought to herself with a grin. Without even knowing it Harry had done something to make her morning better.

She could hear her mum's voice in her head telling her that breakfast was the most important meal of the day and she should never take a test without it. Merlin was she right. Hunger gnawed on Hermione's stomach making it burble and snarl loudly in the quiet of the classroom. Terry Boot looked over at her oddly and Hermione glared at him until he returned to his test.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the heel of her palm to her stomach hoping to assuage the ache before returning to her test. How was she going to handle lunch? She certainly didn't want to eat in the common room; she didn't want the House Elves to wait on her by any means. She also couldn't eat in the Great Hall . . .

And why was she thinking about lunch when she had to finish her exam?!

Hermione nearly melted in a puddle of goo when she found Harry waiting for her outside when class was finished. He'd gone completely out of his way from Care of Magical creatures to walk her to the next class they shared together, Transfiguration. Ron was off probably trying to find Luna for a mid-morning snog. “How'd it go?” he asked falling into step next to her.

She loosely locked his fingers with hers, their robes hiding their hands. While they weren't ashamed of their newfound couplehood and it had probably already circulated the castle at least twice by sunup, they'd both agreed that they would rather have as little attention called to it as possible. “All right I think. But I know for a fact that I completely blew the answer on number four. I swear to Merlin it was a trick question.”

Harry glanced down at her and smiled, squeezing her fingers warmly. “I don't think I need to say, once again, that you'll be fine and blow everyone else in that room out of the theoretical water.”

Hermione smiled up at him and squeezed his fingers back.

“How're you feeling?” he asked with concern that made Hermione's stomach clench with guilt.

“I'm great!” she replied with almost false cheeriness. “I can't wait to take this scarf off though.”

Harry pulled her behind a suit of armor, pressing her against the stone wall, effectively blocking anyone who cared to look, not that there were many in this hall, from seeing her. “Just one kiss,” he murmured, tugging on the fringe of the scarf.

“If you get sick you can't play Quidditch and the team needs their captain,” Hermione murmured, oh so very tempted to give in, purple nose and all.

“I'll risk it. I mean, what're the chances that I'll get sick off one kiss?”

“With the kiss I want to give you, very high,” Hermione admitted. “I'll be fine tomorrow, I promise. Then we can have snogs galore.”

Harry whined in the back of his throat and slumped his shoulders.

“C'mon lover boy, we're going to be late for Transfiguration.”

Toward the end of Transfiguration Hermione was about to strangle herself with her own scarf. The rabbit she was trying to turn into a bunny slipper did nothing but eat her parchment and try to gnaw on her wand. Everything that came out of her mouth wouldn't work because of the stupid, bloody scarf! Stupid nose, I wish I didn't even have a nose, I'd look like Voldemort, but at least it wouldn't be bloody purple! she thought furiously to herself all but ready to pull her hair out as class was let out.

“I did it!” Ron was crowing on their way to lunch. “Ok, so the slipper tried to bite my finger, peed all over my desk and it still had a tail, but I at least got most of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, we don't need to hear it,” Hermione grumbled crankily.

Lunch was torturous trying to eat but at the same time keeping the scarf firmly affixed to her face or at least her nose. Ron didn't make it any better by wincing every time she sighed or drew a deep breath. It'd be ironic, but it'd serve him just right if she really did have a cold and he caught it after all his dramatics. Instead all she could do was roll her eyes and huff, “Honestly” whenever he winced.

She wasn't sure how she got through Charms or double Runes or dinner, but it was late by the time she was able to get to her room to check her nose. It had faded somewhat; instead of a virulent purple, it was merely a darker purple which, while marginally better, was still embarrassing.

“Just go downstairs, he won't laugh,” she whispered to her image. Taking a deep breath she turned, lifted her chin haughtily into the air and descended the girl's staircase as if she were royalty.

Ginny, Ron and Harry were the only ones left in the common room. On one hand Hermione was happy that it was people she was close to, on the other she wished that it was just Harry or no one at all so she could just go to bed and put the bad day behind her.

“Hermione I -“ Ginny began, looking up from her book before she stopped and gasped. “Are you all right?!”

Harry and Ron whipped their heads up from their game of chess. “What happened to you?!” Ron asked standing with Harry and Ginny and rushing over to her.

“Were you attacked?” Harry asked his voice low and dangerous.

“What?” Hermione asked, alarmed at their reactions. She'd expected laughter, not concern and murder. “My nose is fine.”

“It looks all bruised! Does it hurt?” Ginny asked.

“No, no. I wasn't hurt. I -“ she sighed. Time to face the music. “I had a - blemish - this morning and Lavender gave me some expired spot remover and -“ she gestured to her nose, her face bright red.

Ron let out a snort of laughter earning him a death glare. “So you went around with a scarf on your face all day because your nose was purple?” he asked trying, unsuccessfully, to choke down his laughter.

Ginny and Hermione gave him a death glare. “If you know what's good for you -“ Ginny began.

“Wowlookatthetimemustbeoffhavepracticeearlytomorrownight!” Ron scampered quickly off to the boy's room.

“At least it'll be gone by tomorrow,” Ginny grinned, giving Hermione's arm a squeeze. “I'm off too. Night!”

“Night,” Harry and Hermione chorused.

“So you don't have a cold?” Harry asked reaching up and running his finger down the bridge of her nose.

“No. I'm sorry I lied, but I was too embarrassed. Today was the first official day as boyfriend and girlfriend and I - I sort of spazed a bit,” Hermione murmured contritely, ducking her head.

Harry grinned, pulling her closer to him. “Even though we're going out, we're still friends yeah?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, leaning in closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“Hermione, you already made your impression six years ago. You don't need to make another one. My feelings for you would remain just as strong even if your whole face had been purple or even if you had a spot on your nose,” he said softly. “You are allowed to be slightly imperfect you know.”

She grinned and turned her head up to him. “Are you sure you want to snog me with my purple nose?”

“Well, I wouldn't be kissing you with my eyes open, so it doesn't really matter what color your nose is,” he grinned down at her.

She gave him a wry smile. “It isn't permanent.”

A relieved look briefly stole over his face before he chuckled. “Not that purple's not sexy . . .”

“Less talking, more snogging,” Hermione murmured gently tugging his head down by his tie.

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