The Hagrid's son

In the Great Hall this year, the new arrivals weren't the center of attention at the tables; every conversation revolved around the Headmaster and his announcement of the temporary presence of Dementors, as well as the appearance of a large magical creature near the Hogwarts Express.

There were also rumors that their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had a serious addiction to chocolate, even fainting from overindulgence on the way to school.

Lupin could barely muster the willpower to set aside the plate near him with his favorite chocolate pudding, opting instead for some steamed vegetables and rice, not wanting to fuel the Hogwarts gossip.

Barnaby felt a bit peckish tonight, perhaps because he had been a bit too close to the dark creatures for his liking, so he took that same chocolate pudding and ate it completely under Lupin's bitter gaze.

"Last year we had a conman clown, and the year before, someone possessed by a Dark Lord," Barnaby thought as he savored the dessert. "And now we have a chocolate addict? Meh, still better than several others."

Later, he planned to visit the castle kitchens to remind the house-elves to be careful with the dishes served near Lupin, to avoid temptation and excess.

As he chewed, he watched his father, who was thrilled to be announced as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor. Though the choice of book wasn't exactly the best in his opinion, it didn't stop him from laughing as he imagined people dealing with a thick tome that would bite if they were the least bit distracted.

As Tonks' mentor would say: Constant Vigilance!

"I'm not sure how many people will take my dad's class," he mused as he sipped something to wash down the food. "I think it's best if I'm present for some lessons, especially the first ones, until he gets used to being a teacher."

Professors were, above all, figures of authority, and his father had some difficulties getting students to take him seriously due to his honesty and kind heart.

Oh, he wasn't lacking in effort; he had been planning a bunch of lessons for the entire year when he found out he'd gotten the position, but Barnaby had to step in on some plans to avoid… accidents.

Not everyone had a good hand with animals or a good attitude toward them.

Setting aside the events of that night, the next morning Barnaby was called by McGonagall to her office to ask his opinion on a matter.

"You're considering giving Hermione Granger a Time-Turner so she can attend all the subjects?" Barnaby repeated, baffled by the explanation. "Aunt Minerva, how does that concern me?"

"I've seen that you've been in close contact with Miss Granger since she arrived at the school, and I thought getting another opinion would be appropriate before making a decision," Minerva explained as she finished writing on a parchment on her desk.

Barnaby grimaced at this. Yes, he had crossed paths with Hermione several times due to events over the last two years, but if asked if he considered her a friend, the answer would be a resounding no.

An acquaintance whose friends overlapped with his, and someone with whom he maintained courtesy out of politeness at best.

Although Hermione's attitude had improved once she began integrating into the magical world and making friends that weren't made of paper, he still didn't like her personality or how she approached many issues, often focusing on the idea that she was undoubtedly right and disregarding others' opinions or the consequences of her actions. She reminded him too much of the current and sane Luna Lovegood.

A good example was the association related to house-elves that she started some time ago. She didn't bother to understand their origins, how they ended up this way, or their culture and perceptions.

She only saw enslaved creatures and wanted to give them the rights they "deserved" like everyone else. It was clear she selectively ignored past cases of centaurs or merpeople, conveniently.

Not for a second did she realize that precisely because house-elves were extremely loyal and versatile, they could still live well in most places (excluding the unfortunate ones who served in places like the Malfoy household).

If a house-elf lost that factor of absolute loyalty to their served family and began to have thoughts of independence, witches and wizards wouldn't take long to see them as a threat that needed to be controlled or even eliminated.

There was a reason Gringotts came into existence.

As always, Hermione learned knowledge from everywhere, but could only repeat it like a parrot, incapable of digesting it properly.

So if he had to be honest…

"I don't think it's advisable or healthy," Barnaby said, giving his honest opinion. "Leaving aside the danger of giving a minor an artifact that involves time, the consequences of its use could affect her very negatively."

"In what way?" Minerva asked, intrigued.

"Leaving aside the incidents known from using a Time-Turner," Barnaby first set aside the obvious. "Let's assume Hermione uses it responsibly to go to each subject as you said. So let's do a simple calculation." He took a blank parchment and placed it in front of Minerva as he wrote the numbers. "The number of hours she'll have to stay awake each 'complete' day compared to other students, the additional time needed for assignments, the more-than-obvious reduction in her sleep schedule, her coordination for movement in each regression, her additional study time for the exams in each subject…"

Minerva watched in growing horror as the numbers kept rising, multiplying, and rarely decreasing. By the end of the operation, the result was clear.

Hermione would need to invest three times more time to coordinate and complete everything necessary to meet the minimum requirements, and as both knew she wouldn't settle for anything less than the best grade, she might even reach the astonishing amount of four times the time.

"As you can see," Barnaby circled the numbers with the quill, "it's no exaggeration to say she'll 'consume herself alive' to achieve her goals. Physically, she'll only be able to stay healthy if she takes a large amount of potions, and even then, she'll lose a lot of weight. Meanwhile, mentally, the stress of this type of high-intensity, Spartan study is enough to generate some kind of mental disorder."

"This is terrible," Minerva felt her mouth go dry; even in her youth, she wouldn't dare take on such an absurd and unhealthy study plan.

"In any case, I don't think Hermione is fit to take all the subjects," Barnaby added as he put the quill back in the inkwell and sat back down in front of Minerva. "We both have an idea of what Hermione is like. Tell me, Aunt Minerva, do you really think she needs, appreciates, or will put effort into a subject like, for example, Divination?"

Minerva was about to defend her little lion cub, but she realized that, in fact, Miss Granger's personality made her incredibly incompatible with Professor Trelawney's esoteric lessons.

"She could also drop Muggle Studies," Barnaby added after giving McGonagall time to process everything. "She comes from the Muggle world and doesn't need to be shown anything from her own world. In fact, I think we both know that today's lessons are terribly outdated."

McGonagall couldn't argue with this explanation; she herself acted every year to clarify the situation to several new students of Muggle origin and their families, so she noticed the changes more than other professors who were less outgoing.

"Instead, she could devote that time and effort to other areas like Arithmancy, Astronomy, or Care of Magical Creatures," he suggested. "Arithmancy is key if she wants to take Ancient Runes in the future, Astronomy is useful in several potions, and as for Care of Magical Creatures… I think we can agree that she needs some activity that doesn't involve sitting in a chair, and what better than being outdoors?"

"I…" Minerva thought long and hard about Barnaby's words and realized he was right.

Hermione could take those subjects, but she didn't NEED to take them.

Using a Muggle expression: She was biting off more than she could chew.

"Thank you, Barnaby," McGonagall said as she removed her glasses and cleaned them, letting out a sigh of relief. "You've saved me from making a terrible mistake."

Although she always encouraged students to do their best, she would never forgive herself if she "pushed" Miss Granger into a pit like this, realizing the problem too late to act.

"I'm glad I could help," Barnaby nodded as he stood to leave. "Oh, and Aunt Minerva, don't mention anything we talked about here. I think you understand."

"Don't worry," McGonagall assured him. She would remember this favor, but Miss Granger didn't need to know about this event.

What if, after hearing the refusal, she targeted someone who was trying to help her?

Barnaby nodded and walked away, whistling through the castle corridors. Even if he didn't like Hermione, he wasn't cruel enough to let her make a mistake like this.

The young witch just needed to be aware of herself and stop trying to imitate and surpass her past self at school. She simply didn't have the capacity to achieve it, and a dose of reality in the present would help her go further in the future.