Hermione and Jasper approached the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office and stood expectantly in front of the stone guardian. After about a minute of waiting to be noticed, Hermione cleared her throat to get its attention. It blinked slowly and made a big show of yawning as if it had been asleep, stretching, cracking its stone knuckles, which Hermione hadn't even thought was possible, and generally ignoring its duty of reporting visitors to the Head in the chambers behind it, all while gazing lazily at the visitors with an impertinent grin on its face.
Rolling her eyes, the newly-minted professor stepped forward and cleared her throat again. The gargoyle raised its eyebrows in feigned surprise at her approach. "Hmm?"
Hermione pasted on a polite smile. "We're here to see the Headmistress," she announced. She thought that was rather obvious, considering they were standing outside McGonagall's door and only she knew the password.
"A noble aspiration," the nuisance acknowledged. They waited. Hermione counted thirty seconds before she let out a slight huff and stepped closer.
"Would you be so kind as to let the Headmistress know that we would like to speak with her?" Hermione let a trace of annoyance into her voice and lifted an eyebrow ever-so-slightly.
"Ah, well, why didn't you tell me? I'll let her know right away." The guardian widened its mischievous grin and mock-bowed as much as any stone statue could.
Taking a deep breath for patience, Hermione leveled her gaze at it, gave it her most stern war-time glare, and twiddled her wand between her fingers. The gargoyle gulped and gave a greasy smile. "The Headmistress will see you. Right this way. Have a great visit!"
Ignoring the clear sarcasm in its voice, Hermione directed Jasper up the steps that appeared as the unaccommodating statue finally moved aside.
As they stood on the upward-spiraling stone, Hermione felt a twinge of doubt lace the air. Students seldom saw the inside of the most important office in Hogwarts unless they had done something either extremely reprehensible or remarkably upstanding. She recalled how intimidating a figure McGonagall had struck on her first night, and Jasper hadn't had the benefit of being her House responsibility, student, or war compatriot for seven years. She turned to the young Slytherin beside her. "Did you know that Headmistress McGonagall can turn into a cat?"
Jasper let out a nervous giggle. "Really?"
"Yeah, you can tell it's her because she has markings from her glasses on her face. She likes to spy on her classes before they start, so if you see her in your class, now you have a head's up," Hermione whispered conspiratorially. A small grin twisted its way onto his face and the tension in the air eased slightly. His smile tightened a little when the stairs ground to a halt, but he squared his shoulders and walked in ahead of Hermione. She followed after and greeted her old professor.
"Hello, Headmistress. I kept Jasper for a bit at the end of breakfast-"Jasper shot her a grateful look, "-and he missed his class schedule. Could we get his copy, please?"
McGonagall nodded briskly and twitched her wand, and a paper flew out of a nearby cabinet. She caught it, gave it a cursory glance, and handed it to Jasper. "Your first class starts in twenty minutes, Mr. Thompson. The castle can be confusing, especially on your first day, so I would go now." Jasper nodded, muttered thanks, and left the office with a small smile to Hermione.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the Headmistress. "You know, your guardian has quite the self-important attitude." McGonagall huffed and came as close to rolling her eyes as someone with her degree of sternness would.
"Yes, I am aware of that. During the battle, he was cursed to pieces, and he was not returned to his whole state for quite some time. Priorities, you know. He carries a rather large grudge and likes to make sure that getting in here is as difficult as possible. I would replace him, but I've just been...preoccupied with other things." She fell silent, and quiet took the room as the events of earlier that day filled the space between the two women.
Hermione exhaled deeply and met McGonagall's concerned gaze. "Professor, I'm sorry for my outburst this morning. It's just...I mean, he was just sitting there, bold as anything, as if he weren't at fault for all this. You saw him; there wasn't a modicum of remorse on his face when I asked him if he regretted it. I'm just shocked anew every time I see him that he can even bear to look in the mirror with all that he's done, let alone face all of us, those left with the brunt of destruction from his choices, and not feel anything."
Making a sympathetic face, McGonagall folded her hands upon her desk and leaned forward. "If I may, Hermione, I'd like to speak a word in his defense." At the somewhat betrayed look on her former pupil's face, she interjected, "I'm certainly not going to excuse what he did, or preach a grand request of forgiveness and peacemaking, and I am certainly just as justified in hating him as you are." Hermione sat back in her chair, permitting the defense, but her face closed off and her arms folded defensively. McGonagall continued, "However, to say that this was all his fault is not accurate. Intelligent as young Mr. Malfoy is, I highly doubt that, at the tender age of 16, he would have been willing or able to bring about such destruction as we have witnessed. Indeed, had it not been for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the most dubious exploits he accomplished would have been schoolyard bullying, and we would have lived our lives as tranquilly as the magical community is able.
"However, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did exist. He turned a great many to his side through his ideals, tuned as they were to the fears of the age, and he won others through more aggressive means. I am not convinced that Mr. Malfoy is as unaffected as you say, or as he acts. He did as he did because of fear, not for loyalty or love; and fear, though a powerful motivator in the moment, once gone, does not leave behind the strong belief of justification that the other, more pure motivations do. You say he lives without remorse, that he looks in the mirror and is fine with what he sees. But do not underestimate the importance and stubborn strength of self-preservation in his actions. We all of us, however broken we may be, feel the need to appear whole, and Mr. Malfoy is no exception. Perhaps, when he sees himself in the mirror, his reflection seems just as shattered to him as yours does to you?"
Sorry it's a little short and a lot late.