Harry Potter: Magical Legacy

March was upon Hogwarts and an additional three students had been petrified. Harry was feared and hated by about half the school since the idiots still believed him to be the Heir of Slytherin. He had taken to walking around with the Concussor and Ninja stones on his belt in case either was needed. Thankfully he hadn't had to defend against any actual attacks beyond the typical tripping jinxes and fearful gazes.

The bigger surprise was the other half the school. Harry actually had allies. Hermione and Neville along with the Weasley twins and their sister were almost assured. A blond, first year friend of Ginny's – apparently named Luna – had also pledged her support. Though Harry hadn't been entirely certain whether the girl was agreeing that he was not the Heir or if she was pledging her support to help him take over the school and purge the wrackspurts…

Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team rallied behind him. The Hufflepuff support really only came down to Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. Besides Padma and Luna, the Ravenclaws were also mostly avoiding him – with the notable exception of Su Li and Cho Chang who had both stated unequivocally that they believed Harry had nothing to do with whatever was going on. The real surprise had been Slytherin. Most of the upper years had apparently been annoyed that Harry was rumored to be the Heir and ignored it on principle. In their own year, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had reported that Millicent Bulstrode had taken to threatening anyone who claimed Harry had anything to do with the attacks and Blaise Zabini had also begun to support him from the sidelines.

Now if only Harry could figure out exactly who the Heir was …

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom?" McGonagall asked from the open door to the Charms classroom. "I must speak with you for a moment. I'm sorry Fillius but I need to remove your students a little early."

"Of course. Of course," Flitwick responded with a worried look. McGonagall just gave a slight shake of her head. "Don't forget to practice for your homework, gentlemen."

Harry and Neville frowned at each other. An expression which only deepened after they had grabbed the bags and noticed that McGonagall was exceedingly drawn and tired. The stern Head of House had never looked so withdrawn in front of her students before and Harry felt the first fluttering of dread settle in his stomach.

"Professor? What's happened?" Harry asked pushing down his worry as simply overreacting. She was probably just coming to tell them what was taking so long with purchasing the mandrakes. He had been asking her every day after all. 'Then where is Hermione. How come she never showed up for class after running off at lunch? When does Hermione ever miss class?'

"There has been another attack, Mr. Potter." McGonagall's voice was soft. Too soft. Too controlled to be remotely natural.

'Where is Hermione?!' Harry's brain screamed. "So are we being questioned by Professor Dumbledore again? Does Snape want to accuse me of the attacks yet again?"

"We are going to the hospital wing, Mr. Potter. The student – the student was found in the hallway outside the library…"

Harry barely heard anymore of his professor's sentence. He was too busy fighting down panic. 'Hermione was going to the library after lunch. She had had an idea. She had gone to research her idea. WHERE WAS HERMIONE!?'

"I assure you both that we will find the cause of this and…"

"Where – " Harry's mouth ran dry and had to start again. He did his best to ignore the gibbering fool screaming for bloody murder in a corner of his mind. "Where is Hermione, Professor McGonagall."

The three came to stop outside the doors to the infirmary and McGonagall turned shimmering eyes onto Harry. "Miss Granger is inside, Harry. She was petrified just like the other victims."

Harry's control strained against its bonds but he managed to keep hold long enough to open the doors to the wing. He nearly sprinted to his friend's side, Neville right behind him. Hermione was lying in a bed near Colin Creevy and the others, her hand was extended with a small mirror clutched in it and a look of surprise frozen on her features. Her other hand was curled into a ball and held to her breast. Harry collapsed on top of her and – for the first time in six years – he cried.

"My boy, I am sorry," Dumbledore's voice droned out somewhere behind Harry. He couldn't be bothered to care. "Please take all the time you need here. I am sure Miss Granger would not want you to neglect your classes on her account however." Harry's hands clenched and he started to reign himself back in. It wouldn't due to hex the Headmaster. Hermione would never let him hear the end of it when she woke up.

"I don't see what the fuss is all about," Snape drawled near Dumbledore, "the girl is just the same as the others." Harry's blood ran cold and his tears stopped immediately. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Where are the mandrakes, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry said still clutching Hermione's side.

"Sorry?"

"The mandrakes," Harry repeated. He lifted his head and gazed at them. If looks could kill than Snape would be a smoldering pile of rags while Dumbledore would likely be twitching in pain. "The mature mandrakes that Neville, Hermione and I advised you to buy weeks ago. The mandrakes that are now out of season for the large majority of Britain, and so have a diminishing stock every day. The mandrakes that we had compiled a list of. The mandrakes to restore our classmates and friends."

"Our mandrakes will be ready in mere weeks," Snape said. Neville growled right back at the Professor while Harry never took his gaze from Dumbledore.

"Where are the mandrakes? Sir." Nobody took much notice of the breeze picking up or the curtains beginning to flap near the windows. Despite the windows not being open.

Dumbledore sighed. "The Board of Governors – at the urging of Lucius Malfoy – has determined that there are insufficient funds in the Hogwarts budget to justify the purchase of mature mandrakes while a crop is already growing on the grounds."

Neville's growl increased to a full snarl. He started to take a step towards the teachers but Harry stood up and all eyes turned to him. Harry's face was seething in rage, his lips curled into a primal sneer. The hair on his head whipped about as the breeze in the room became a small maelstrom centered on Harry. Harry stalked towards the assembled staff amidst complete silence from everyone else present.

"You. You bigoted, racist arseholes!" Harry yelled. "BUDGET CONCERNS!? BUDGETS!? YOU BASTARDS! WOULD THERE BE BUDGET CONCERNS IF ANY OF THESE PEOPLE WERE PUREBLOODS? IF THEIR PARENTS COULD BE HERE YELLING ABOUT THE LACK OF TREATMENT? IF THEY HAD ENOUGH MONEY TO DONATE TO THE RIGHT CAUSES OR THE RIGHT POCKETS? WOULD THERE BE BUDGET CONCERNS THEN PROFESSOR?! WOULD THERE BE BUDGET CONCERNS IF ANYONE CARED THAT THEY WERE LOSING MONTHS OF THEIR EDUCATION DUE TO THESE ATTACKS? WELL, SIR?! WOULD THERE BE BUDGET CONCERNS THEN?!" His eyes almost seemed to glow and the air near them had several small sparks flaring off every few seconds.

"My boy, I assure you – "

"I AM NOT YOUR BOY! MY PARENTS ARE DEAD! AND THE SAME PHILOSOPHY THAT CAUSED THEIR MURDERS IS LEAVING MY FRIENDS LYING HERE! BUDGET CONCERNS! YOU CAN TAKE YOUR BUDGET CONCERNS AND SHOVE IT WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE! SIR!" Harry snarled and swept past the adults.

"Mr. Potter…where are you going?" McGonagall asked softly. She started to reach a hand out to him but seemed to think better of it and stopped halfway letting her arm fall back to her side.

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