Harry was walking out with the other students from his first Potions lesson, feeling both happy and disappointed, a sentiment widely shared by most present.
Professor Slughorn was a million times more approachable than the Head of Slytherin, which made Harry realize that Potions classes might actually be interesting for once in his life.
His memory of the first day at Hogwarts with this subject was humiliating.
At the same time, he was disappointed because his Draught of Living Death didn't meet the professor's requirements, so he couldn't get that bottle of Felix Felicis.
Liquid luck? He could surely use something like that at some point.
Though the fact that only one student in the past had met that standard showed they weren't that bad… right?
In fact, he checked the sixth-year Potions book he'd taken from the cupboard (it was so well-preserved it even looked new) and looked up how to brew it. Pure curiosity, of course, especially when he saw the costly ingredients and the complex preparation method that made the Polyjuice Potion they made in second year look like a joke.
Oh, how furious Hermione had been when she saw the cauldron where she had invested so much effort, completely empty, like a mockery of her efforts.
At least they didn't get caught; whoever did it simply took the potion with him in exchange for his silence, it seemed.
His gaze drifted to the left, just in time to see Draco's back as he moved away, and for once, his two lackeys seemed to have their own business instead of following him like flies to dragon dung.
Harry had a hunch that with Voldemort's return, some families like the Malfoys were already revealing their true colors. Something he would have to tell the headmaster later — he was sure his observations would be taken seriously!
Besides, even though he now had to endure Snape and his attitude in one of the subjects he was best at, not everything was negative.
This year, he managed to be chosen as captain of his house's Quidditch team, and now he needed to start looking for some substitutes for the students who had graduated, needed to spend more time on their studies, or simply… didn't return to Hogwarts.
Yes, he was annoyed that some people, like Seamus Finnigan, blamed him for almost not coming back.
He only told the truth, but they chose not to face it!
And then, when they couldn't avoid it any longer out of fear, he became the target of their complaints.
It was absurd!
Didn't they see that it was their cowardly parents' fault?
Days passed, and Harry, along with Ron, noticed a subtle change around them.
Yes, even when Ron wasn't sticking his tongue down Lavender Brown's throat, he could notice what was happening around him. They were a strange couple, in his opinion, especially because he never saw them exchange many words.
And from one day to the next, they were a couple. So weird.
Though now they didn't talk much either…
In any case, the castle creatures, the ones Barnaby always brought with him from who knows where, like the Tonberries, seemed less… friendly?
For example, before, these Tonberries would greet him with a nod when he crossed paths with them; now they ignored him as if he were… just another student.
They weren't the only ones; even the house-elves in the kitchens were trying to be less accommodating. Oh, they still jumped for joy at the chance to help with some snacks, but the difference between the treatment he had before and now was as clear as day and night.
That's when he noticed another detail.
He hadn't spoken to Barnaby since the school year began.
Not just him; almost none of his friends had interacted with Hagrid's son.
In fact, even when they met at Sirius's funeral (he still struggled to process that Barnaby was married, and no less to someone from his godfather's family), they only exchanged a nod in acknowledgment of each other's presence.
Basic manners, nothing more.
No, wait, he did see Ginny talk to Barnaby, although it was after the spat she had with her brother Ron when he caught her kissing Dean Thomas.
He didn't feel comfortable with that either — whether it was the kiss or that she seemed to seek Barnaby's support instead of someone else, like him — but it probably wasn't anything important…
Harry didn't understand why Barnaby was so opposed to Dumbledore.
Was it because of his father's unjust expulsion when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened?
But Dumbledore gave Hagrid a job!
He had more than made up for his small mistake, right?
He remembered the advice he gave him when they first met in front of Ollivander's.
Not all that glitters is gold…
Harry understood the concept, but he didn't believe it could apply to Dumbledore after knowing him for all these years. He held the title of the most powerful white wizard for a reason, and who hasn't made a mistake here and there?
In his opinion, Barnaby was just being stubborn; the redhead simply couldn't see that he sometimes displayed an excess of pride or arrogance, thinking he knew better than Harry about what was happening or what to do.
There wasn't that much age difference between them.
But once again, he remembered that night when they caught him trying to fly to London to save Sirius. He replayed the scene, actions, and words in his mind over and over, feeling discomfort in his heart.
Could they still… call themselves friends? Last Christmas, they hadn't even exchanged gifts.
At least there was one thing he was sure of.
Hermione definitely couldn't. She and Barnaby had broken any pretension of cordiality that night, and now Harry only hoped that Hermione wouldn't try to mess with Barnaby. Something he knew for sure she was considering.
Yes, he specified "try" because, deep down, Harry would be much more worried for Hermione than for Barnaby if such a development of events really took place.
If what happened the day Umbridge caught them wasn't a clear indication of how far apart their skill levels were, they had gone deaf, blind, and dumb.
At least, unlike Draco, there was no way Barnaby would help Voldemort…
...
Right?