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A sharp rap sounded on the small wooden door, and McGonagall smiled as she looked up from her notes.
"Come in!"
"Hello Professor," Hermione said warmly as she entered, the last light of the cat patronus vanishing around her feet.
"Hello Hermione, it's good to see you. Please take a seat."
Hermione settled down in the vacant arm chair, firelight catching glints off her bushy hair.
"The boys warned me we were dispensing with formalities, but it would be quite a switch for me to call you anything but Professor."
McGonagall chuckled.
"Every one of the eighth year students has said the exact same thing to me, and as none of you are using it as a malicious title, I rather enjoy hearing you all use it." She sat forward and clasped her hands around her knee. "Now, I would love to hear what your post-Hogwarts plans are as I am sure you have them mapped out in immaculate detail."
Hermione blushed and a rueful smile appeared as she brought out a piece of parchment covered with her neat, tiny handwriting. McGonagall conjured up a small table between them and began to read.
"This is quite thorough, though I expected nothing less from you."
"Thank you Professor. Is there anything that needs clarifying?"
"I do have one question for you," McGonagall shifted her attention from the parchment to Hermione herself. "I am sure you are aware of the moniker when has been applied to you almost from the beginning of your time here." Hermione grimaced in response.
"'The Brightest Witch of Her Age', which I firmly believe to be false as they are basing that title solely on scholastic merits, but yes. I am aware of what has been said."
"Why then, with the whole of the Wizarding World open to you, do you choose to pursue a Ministry career?" McGonagall kept her tone neutrally inquiring, not wanting to betray her feelings one way or another. That was the trick with these meetings, sometimes you had to lead them as they were hopeless. Other times, you had to distinctly refrain from leading them.
"Because the wizarding world needs to change, and I intend to help it do so." At a gentle prodding look from McGonagall, she continued.
"I entered this world being unaware of it, but being very aware of the muggle world and the challenges and idea that plague it. Maybe naively, I thought the Wizarding world would be different, but instead I found the same ideas and ugly thoughts here as I did out there. We just had a war over the idea of 'pure blood' being superior. Magic folk are so terrified of the muggle world that they were willing to subjugate it or hide from it completely rather than live in harmony with it. There's barely any collaboration with other magic users even on the same continent as us, let alone across the world. How long can we expect to live in the way we were before we get ourselves another Grindelwald or Voldemort? How long until a third generation of wizards is sorely depleted fighting in a war against their brethren?
I... I refuse to stand by and let us collapse back into what is comfortable and familiar. Not after all this. Not after all we've lost. I want to lead that charge. I want to be there to challenge ideas and long held notions of what the right way to do things is. And I want to start with how we treat those at the edges of our communities. The house elves, the centaurs, the goblins, the werewolves; all those magic users who, because they are not 'fully human', are subjugated so that we 'control them' or are shunted off and alienated from society. I intend to turn the Department for Control of Magical Creatures on it's head, separating out those we should work with from those that truly do need our help and protection. Then hopefully some day..." she paused, eyes gazing at a spot on the opposite wall, "some day perhaps I will obtain a position where it's even easier to make changes. But until then, and until there are enough other revolutionary minded thinkers also in the Ministry to make it possible, I will start with what I feel the most passionate about."
She ended, winded, and took a sip from the glass McGonagall had placed on the table.
"Well. I do believe that is a much better course of action than hiding knitted hats around Gryffindor Tower."
Hermione came perilously close to doing a spit take, and only managed to swallow her water with a good dose of coughing.
"You knew?!" she asked, staring incredulously at McGonagall who currently had an almost Dumbledore like twinkle in her eye.
"It is my duty to know what happens in this castle, and Dobby enjoys... enjoyed speaking to me when I would go down to chat with the house elf staff."
"I will own that it was not one of my better ideas," Hermione grimaced. "It seems like ages ago now, but I felt I had to do something. And it was better than nothing."
"I agree. Though your method and rational were lacking, I admired the passion it showed."
"Do you... do you think I'm doing the right thing now?" Hermione was uncharacteristically unsure. McGonagall leaned forward and grasped both her hands.
"I firmly believe you are. And if anyone can set the wizarding world on a better track than the one it's been stuck in, it's you. No blushes my dear, I mean it. Your passion, your heart, and your understanding of the deep flaws in the system is just what the Ministry needs right now. You have my full approval of your plan, and whatever help I can give you is yours."
Hermione squeezed the elderly lady's hands with tears pricking her eyes.
"I can't tell you what that means to me," she whispered.
"The old guard is tired," McGonagall replied softly, "it is your turn now. Go and lead us into a new era."
"I will."
And so, she did.