She had power and strength and value. Hermione was no longer a pawn to be commanded around the board with little refusal and little control. She was a queen. She was a motherfucking queen. Hermione had the power, and the audacity as she was recently learning, to control her own movements and to take them freely, with the whole board at her disposal. The other team would no longer treat her as disposable, as little more than a nuisance, because now they would see her. They would see her – a queen standing beside a king – and they would fear her; they would tremble at her threats and they would know that if she wished to come after them, their days were numbered.