The Hagrid's son

Hermione was scandalized and nearly shouted when her Head of House, Professor McGonagall, refused to let her use the Time-Turner to supplement her laborious and carefully calculated study plan.

The worst part was that McGonagall provided a perfectly structured and flawless explanation!

Hermione couldn't argue or come up with a convincing counterargument when it was her turn to respond. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was left speechless in a discussion.

When it wasn't even a real argument to begin with!

She didn't like it, but she couldn't lash out and vent her frustration on the school's deputy headmistress. That could cost her valuable house points, and neither of them wanted to lose any unnecessarily; the other Gryffindors were already too good at that.

Ahem Weasley Ahem

But this news was terrible—she could no longer achieve Outstandings in every subject at Hogwarts, which would mean her grades would only be Exceeds Expectations instead of perfect. Once again, this was something terrible.

Twice as terrible!

Even if she secretly, frustratingly, and very reluctantly acknowledged after getting a sense of the detailed magical school plan that she couldn't skip years like Barnaby had, she at least hoped to match his perfect grades in every subject when she graduated, proving that she, Hermione Granger, was no less than him, even if she came from the Muggle side of the world.

But McGonagall had just shattered that illusion, gently, but it still hurt.

She could only resign herself, somewhat depressed, to completing as best she could all the subjects that didn't overlap with the school's schedule, never knowing that Barnaby had blocked her, and at the same time, indirectly caused a drastic reduction in her chances of becoming Minister of Magic in the future.

While Hermione realized that she couldn't have everything just by wanting it, Barnaby was busy helping his father.

"Are you sure you want to present Buckbeak during the first lesson?" Barnaby repeated for the fourth time, unable to avoid feeling a bit worried. "I still think it would be better to start with something smaller..."

And less lethal.

Young wizards and witches are resilient, but not as much as him or his father.

"Nonsense! They'll love Buckbeak; he's a good lad," Hagrid retorted as he carefully preened the feathers. "But what would you suggest instead?"

"Puffskeins could be an easy option, maybe a shy Porlock, a calm Kneazle, or the showy fairies," Barnaby had a rather long list of magical creatures better suited for ignorant students than a proud Hippogriff that could gut them with a swipe of its talon in less than five seconds. "A silent Jobberknoll, the cute Mooncalves, the Augurey..."

"Alright, I get the point," Hagrid couldn't help but interrupt his son. "But that's for later; it's important to make a lasting impression in the first lesson! Besides, the Mooncalves' schedule coincides with Astronomy classes..."

"There are many ways to make a lasting impression, but not all are necessarily positive," Barnaby muttered, resigned to seeing that he wouldn't be able to convince his father.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, you must've imagined it."

Hagrid eyed his son suspiciously.

"Professor Trelawney hasn't been after you again, has she?"

"No, you know how bothersome she is for me," Barnaby shook his head.

The Divination professor seemed overly curious about his future and occasionally tried to see something beyond him, but Barnaby didn't know if it was because of his mother's blood. Every time Trelawney tried, she ended up passing out and bleeding from her nose without any results.

Barnaby always stayed away from the Divination Tower to avoid that happening too often.

Later, when Hagrid's first lesson as a professor arrived, Barnaby stood by his side as an assistant and remained silent, letting his father do things his way.

Although he had to laugh when people were stunned to learn that they could calm and open the book by running their fingers down the spine, rather firmly, much to the embarrassment of all the students.

And he almost laughed again when his father asked for volunteers to ride the Hippogriff, and everyone stepped back, except for Harry, who seemed to have missed the memo.

Of course, Barnaby didn't snitch on him, and from the shout of joy they later heard from the Black Lake, it seemed Harry had a great time flying.

Overall, the class was going splendidly, and he felt nothing could go wrong at this point.

Until Draco Malfoy completely ignored what his father had just taught everyone ten minutes earlier and was rude to the Hippogriff, generating strong hostility.

As tempted as Barnaby was to let Buckbeak give Draco a few scratches to adjust his attitude, he knew Draco was a daddy's boy and could run off crying, exaggerating the facts, which would result in trouble for him and his father.

Not even the Hippogriff would be spared, so with a lazy wave of his staff, Barnaby pulled Draco and threw him into a thorn bush, putting him out of Buckbeak's reach.

As for Buckbeak, he calmed down when Barnaby tossed him a large piece of his favorite jerky.

"I'd suggest everyone take note of what has just been taught, so as not to be as forgetful as student Malfoy," Barnaby warmly reminded the class as an assistant, not forgetting to subtly point out the culprit of the recent incident.

As for Draco struggling to get out of the brambles, what did that have to do with him?

The reminder seemed effective, as everyone was diligently taking notes the very next second.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco shouted as Crabbe and Goyle helped him out, his clothes torn from multiple rips, his hair disheveled, and various scratches all over.

"Don't worry, I'm more than willing to provide a memory thread so that more people can see and understand what happened. As many as you deem necessary," Barnaby nodded with a reassuring smile towards the Slytherin student. "Of course, I'm talking about EVERYTHING that happened. From start to finish."

It only took Draco a moment to understand, and he no longer wanted his father to know about the incident, much less for it to become a public matter.

Showing the memory thread would mean letting more people see what happened—important people that his father would bring in to pressure Dumbledore. Important collaborators of their family and those with whom they shared interests.

All to see his heir dishonoring the Malfoy family's heritage and prestige?

No, Draco had much more to lose if he really wanted to make an issue out of this.

And without him knowing, several members of pure-blood families looked at him with subtle disappointment. At the same time, they took note of Barnaby's ability to turn the situation to his advantage with just a few words.