I consider both the books and movies cannon. For example, Hermione's torture consisted of both the cruciatus curse and the mudblood scar. But often, the book take precedence.
Chapter 3:
I awoke in Madame Pomfrey's office many hours later, with Harry and Ron sleeping in beds beside me. Ron's snores seemed familiar, providing a sole source of comfort our months on the run. Cautiously, I creeped over to the window, ignoring the aches that still threatened me, a month after my torture at Malfoy Manor. The sight outside the window, brought new waves of grief. The window overlooked the quidditch pitch and the quadrangle, yet much of the castle was still in view. The destruction reared the castle almost unrecognisable, the shell of the quidditch pitch only consisted of a few distorted iron hoops and the grass of the quadrangle was so littered with debris and dust that the grass was no longer visible. Hogwarts had changed. I felt two calloused hands on my waist and turned to see Ron. Ron, one of the only contestant sources of comfort, smiling a semi-reassuring smile. But there was pain, grief present underneath. Silently we looked at the window together, tears running fast. The school, we loved so well destroyed, blown to pieces along with many loved ones and familiar faces. Soon I turned to Ron again. He had stopped crying, but his face was red and blotchy, carrying the stress of the last few months. "How are you holding up" I asked. I knew the answer, but I had to let Ron know that there were people there for him. Me, Harry, his family. "Im ok" he said blatantly. His voice sounded very detached form his true emotions but I decided not to push it. Before I could open my mouth to suggest a walk, Madame Pomfrey burst through the doors, followed my Mrs and Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall. The rush was enough to wake Harry up, who reluctantly sat up after a large yawn. "Well, good to see you three awake" Said Mrs Weasley, who's face gave away her concern. We all were too skinny, and the stress and worry as well as numerous painful looking injuries were too abundant to hide our pain. Madame Pomfrey too was concerned, and ordered us all to sit down. McGonagall spoke: "Well, I won't deny, I require and explanation of what you three have been doing these past few months, but given your heroic bravery tonight I believe it can wait a few days" Turning to Mrs Weasley she continued: "Molly, I have organised a portkey for you to take you and your family home, I presume Miss Granger and Mr Potter will be travelling home with you" Mrs Weasley, who seemed relieved to leave the castle, agreed and hurried Harry, Ron and I along with her. It was a few hours before the portkey was ready to take us and the Weasleys, in which time we were given showers, food and a change of clothes. The Cruciatus residue was becoming increasingly painful, and Ginny was asked to help me bathe. "Look at you" She gasped when I removed my clothes. I was so thin, that the white of my bones was almost visible on my body. It was rare to see a gap of skin, as it was covered in scars and burns. My whole torso was bruised from Bellatrix's wrath. Ginny helped me in the bath, and gently washed my back as I cried. I cried for everything, relief, grief, pain. Ginny seemed to understand. She had lost her brother. The scar on my forearm, shined with blood. MUDBLOOD it taunted. I was aware of Ginny's gaze on it but she knew better than to ask questions. Explanations would come in time. It seemed forever, but soon I was dressed and Ginny and I met the rest of the Weasley's and Harry in Dumbledore's old office for the portkey. The absence of Fred left a painful gap in the party, but nobody mentioned it. Our gazes gave us away, and I saw a tear drop from Ron's eye before I felt the familiar tug of the Portkey, bringing us away from the battle scene.