In the mirror, naked, covered in bruises and love-bites with a magnificent wound on her chest that screamed MUDBLOOD, she exulted in herself. This was what she really was, not the busy little schoolgirl intent on grades and books. For the first time in her life, Hermione looked how she felt: battered. Ferocious. She wanted to capture herself in a portrait. They could title it  A Warborn Queen. 