Hermione was sitting on the edge of her bathtub and applying ointments to her scars. The ones on her legs turned into thin white lines, that would probably go away in a matter of months. She didn’t use any on the Mudblood crossed out on her hand. The word was pale white and would doubtfully ever fade away. Bellatrix used dark magic to carve it out and the remains of it still lingered, making this scar permanent. Hermione didn’t want the scar on top of it to fade. Even though she got it in a horrible way, it was a sign of protest now. A symbol that she couldn’t be reduced to a word. That she was more than her blood status.