Harry huffed out a breath, he would just have to chance it, hope Hermione was too shagged out to wake up before she was fully rested. He opened his potion drawer and took out the seven vials he needed. Two of them were a sort of bubble bath, brewed from Lily's Phoenix Tears, and one was a powerful moisturiser, that helped smooth out the fresh scabs on the scar tissue of his face. Harry added them to the splashing water, watching critically as his bath turned a pale sort of yellow hue with milky bubbles. It was the colour of urine, hardly alluring, but his deeply wounded bones and wrecked visage would be thankful for the healing properties later.