A/N: Thanks for the support

The Slytherin Reformation

By Spectre4hire

2: Dealing with Snakes

"I think he found out."

Harry looked over at the staff table towards his head of house, Professor Snape to see the Potions Professor's dark eyes were glaring further down the at an oblivious Moony who was having a friendly conversation with Professor Flitwick.

"Yep," Harry agreed with Theodore's observation. "He knows."

The two friends were sitting at their usual spots at the end of their house table, enjoying their breakfast. They had waited for Tracey and Daphne only to be told by the former to go up to the great hall without them.

"Poor Neville," Theodore shook his head at their friend's unenviable predicament.

Neville who already struggled in potions was now going to be facing an even tougher challenge with Professor Snape now knowing what transpired in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class yesterday.

"It was still funny," Theo chuckled, before he focused his attention onto his plate which contained eggs, toast, and sausages.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, remembering how the boggart had transformed into their head of house when Neville confronted it, and how their Gryffindor friend then beat it by putting it in his grandmother's clothes. It had gotten one of the biggest laughs out of the class during their time with the boggart especially from the Gryffindors.

Their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class had been a success, fun and entertaining just like Susan had predicted. With most of the Gryffindors and Slytherins getting a change at facing the boggart that had taken up residence in a wardrobe in the staffroom. Only a few students hadn't gotten a turn at confronting the creature just as Moony had warned. Harry, Theodore, and Hermione the only students who had been left out. A decision that only Hermione seemed to be lamenting.

Harry took a bite of his eggs, enjoying the taste before sipping some orange juice, while he reflected on their class yesterday. He still had been disappointed that he hadn't gotten to face the boggart, but had understood and respected Moony's choice. Thankfully, the friends had been so distracted after the class that neither Tracey nor Daphne seemed to care that Harry and Theodore didn't get to face it.

"Where have you guys been?" Theodore asked when Daphne and Tracey finally took their seats across from them.

"Miss us, Nott?" Daphne asked.

"Hardly," Theodore sounded insulted at the mere suggestion.

"We were talking to some of the first years," Tracey answered.

"Oh?" That got Theo's interest. "Anything good?"

"No one bold or bigoted," Daphne revealed, sounding satisfied with that information. "

"So, in other words no Dracos," Tracey translated with a grin.

Harry chuckled, "Good," He and his friends were hopeful to remove the stain that was Malfoy from their house. So that they could reform Slytherin into something better.

"They were shy," Tracey admitted, "And a bit timid, not all of them looked particularly thrilled to be here," she noted, sounding amused, "We can only guess why," She added sarcastically.

"That only means they'll be more agreeable to our ideas," Daphne put in, "We're not the only ones who want to see something different from this house. To not be so isolated from the other three houses and to not be so biased."

"With Draco out of the picture who can actually hurt us?" Theodore asked.

The older students didn't really care about the house politics as their attention had shifted to life outside of Hogwarts, as well as the exams that waited them at the end of the year whether it be N.E.W.T.S or O.W.L.S. That meant that the two years who usually had the most to say or the time to invest were usually fourth and third years while the older students kept a passing interest when they weren't busy with their increased work load or preparing for their exams.

Which meant it fell on Harry and his friends to seize this opportunity with the future of Slytherin at stake. A chance to steer this house in new, more promising directions, including putting distance between the dark and recent past that lingered over this house like a black cloud. A system where the students were rewarded by merit not the purity of their blood. If this was to be a great, strong house then Harry and the others believed that it could no longer be weighed down by prejudicial dogmas.

That was the change that Harry and his friends were hoping for. That was the change they wanted to see in their house.

"Our opposition comes from a fourth year," Daphne's words broke Harry out of his thoughts, "He has most of the support of his fellow fourth years as well as Crabbe and Goyle."

"That should be a sign for anyone with a brain cell to pick us then," Theodore joked.

"Sadly not," Tracey frowned.

"Who is he?" Harry asked.

"Alexius Russell," Daphne answered, before then pointing further up the table towards him.

Harry recognized the name, and followed Daphne's direction to see the face was familiar too having seen him around. He was tall with brown hair slicked back, and blue eyes, he was front and center of the conversation with his fellow fourth years.

"Not as brash or as pompous as Malfoy, but still holds to the old ideals of Slytherin," Daphne told them, "Mainly blood purity," she made a face at what she thought of that, "And how only those with proper blood should be allowed into this house."

"That's been the way of this house for centuries," Theo reminded them, "It was Salazar's ideals as well."

"Maybe," Harry turned away from said in-house rival and back towards his friends, "But it doesn't mean it's the right way."

"Hear, hear," Daphne agreed happily.

Tracey offered her support with a friendly smile.

Theodore nodded his head, "Of course," he said, "just a reminder of what we're facing."

"He's not even a challenge," Daphne argued, "We've done more these last two years then he can hope to achieve in a lifetime." She shook her head, clearly frustrated by the clout this particular fourth year held in their house and how he served as their sole obstacle in their way in wanting to move Slytherin in a new direction.

"We won the house cup two years ago," Harry pointed out, "They can't have forgotten that."

"That doesn't matter," Daphne sounded disappointed, "They won the house cup the year before we arrived and several years before too." She stabbed one of her sausages. "It isn't enough."

"Quidditch should help us," Tracey ignored Daphne's groan, "Whether you like or not the sport wields influence in this school and in this house."

"Fair point," Daphne conceded with an exaggerated grimace.

Tracey promptly ignored it. "Which reminds me," She shifted her attention towards Harry, "Will you be trying out this year with me?" She eyed him hopefully, "They'll be two openings, a chaser," Tracey beamed at that. It was no secret between the four friends that she coveted that spot on the team, "And seeker."

This was a conversation that he and Tracey had more times than Harry could count, he smiled at his friend's insistence, "You don't give up."

Tracey returned the smile. "Never," she sent him a pleading look, "It'll be so much fun to be on the team together!" She reached across the table and grabbed his arm, "Please?" She pouted, "Please?"

Harry laughed, trying to shake his arm free as he had been trying to get some more bacon, "Alright," he relented, "I'll try out with you."

"Really?" Tracey brightened, but surprise lingered in her expression, looking as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes," Harry assured her, "I'll try out with you."

"Yes!" Tracey clapped, looking absolutely delighted at his choice, "You won't regret it!" She was beaming, "It's going to be a blast."

Harry found her mood infectious, feeling a smile coming to his lips, "I'll hold you to that."

"Sometimes I don't understand you," Daphne sighed, feigning exasperation, "And when it comes to quidditch, I don't think I want to."

"It's going to be alright, Neville," Hermione tried to calm their friend as the six of them made their way down to the dungeons for their potions class.

It was to be their first class since Neville had taken on the boggart which had taken the shape of Professor Snape. It was clear by how pale and stiffly he was moving that the Gryffindor was dreading this.

"No, it won't be," Neville was shaking his head, "He knows."

"Professor Snape is a teacher," Hermione reminded him, "He wouldn't allow personal feelings to interfere with his duties as a professor."

"We are talking about the same professor, right?" Neville looked at her as if she'd gone barmy, "You've been in that class," he looked around the corridors to make sure said professor wouldn't suddenly appear, "you know exactly what he's like," he added in a whisper just to make sure they couldn't possibly be overheard.

"Well," Hermione looked a bit flustered at the reminder that their potions professor was a bit bias towards his house. A fact which Harry, Theodore, Daphne, and Tracey used over the past two years to tally quite a lot of house points.

Tracey giggled, "He has you there, Hermione."

Hermione huffed at that. Annoyed that she had clearly lost the debate.

"I might be able to help," Harry said quietly.

"How?" Neville asked, "Unless you can make Professor Snape forget what happened, I'm dead."

"I can't do that," Harry admitted, "But I might have something that will distract him.'

"Distract him?" Theodore looked at him curiously.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. He had written to Dumbledore after the events of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Believing it may be an appropriate time to see if he could borrow the headmaster's pensieve. Which he could use in an attempt to shield Neville from weeks of future bullying and cruelty that their head of house would clearly send his way after the ordeal with the boggart. The headmaster had responded to him this morning granting Harry the permission he sought.

Now, was the challenging part of not just asking his head of house, but getting him to agree without spoiling what it was he needed to see.

It was Daphne who pieced it together first, "The memory," she whispered, "You're going to let him see it." She was there when her parents and Moony had viewed it in the aftermath of Harry's experience with death, and had seen how it had moved them afterwards.

"Yes, he has a right to see it," Harry said, "I'm not sure he wants to, but he needs to know," Harry found himself explaining his reasoning, "He needs to hear it from them not me," he saw that he had his friend's undivided attention, "He needs to see it for himself."

"Oh Harry," Hermione sounded moved with the gesture Harry was trying to make. "Surely, Professor Snape would be thankful for you for letting him see that."

"Have you ever seen Professor Snape be thankful?" Neville challenged.

"Yes," Harry answered, ignoring the Gryffindor's skeptical look. He could recall a time or two where his head of house showed gratitude, but it was in his own unique way.

"I wouldn't expect a thank you note," Tracey said dryly.

"If I did I'd have to frame it," Harry grinned.

"You could charge admission to let others see it," Theodore joked, "A thank you note from Professor Snape," he was smiling, "Since no one would believe it."

"I'll be the first to pay," Neville volunteered, who looked a bit better now that he believed Harry's plan may work and possibly save him from the wrath of Snape. "Anything that will save me from him."

"And who exactly are you referring to, Mister Longbottom?" The soft voice of Severus Snape had a way of commanding attention, as the six friends looked to see the potions professor standing before them, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes transfixed on Neville. "You wouldn't be disrespecting a professor, would you?" He let out a disappointing tsk, "Five points from Gryffindor," Snape decided in an instant, "Now get to your seat before I make it ten." He warned.

Whatever good mood Neville had just been briefly feeling evaporated in an instant. He nervously nodded to Snape's instructions before meekly walking into the potions classroom. A sympathetic Hermione and Theodore followed with Tracey and Daphne behind them.

Now or never, Harry thought, upon realizing it was just him and Professor Snape outside the potions classroom.

"Mister Potter?" Snape's cold tone sent a chill through Harry, "I'd advise you get to your seat as well."

"Sir," Harry plucked up the courage he hoped he had, "Could I speak with you for a moment, please?"

Snape eyed him suspiciously, "Very well," he allowed, after a silent inspection, "I always have time for my Slytherins."

"Thank you, sir," Harry felt relief wash over him.

"You should know I don't like my time wasted."

"It won't be, sir," Harry told him.

"I'll decide that myself," Snape was still looking at him closely for a few more seconds before gesturing Harry to get inside, "My office," he instructed.

Harry didn't need to be told twice following Snape inside the classroom who then told the class to open their textbooks and to retrieve their homework before leading Harry to his office, who followed quietly behind. Harry looked over his shoulder to see his friends giving him encouraging looks before they were blocked from view when the door to Snape's office closed behind him.

"Well, what is it, Mister Potter?" Snape demanded as soon as the door closed.

Ugh, now that Harry had found himself with his head of house, he wasn't sure how to address the very delicate subject he wanted to touch on. He had been so focused on getting to this point that now that he was here he clearly realized he didn't know what to say.

I really should've thought this though better. Harry inwardly groaned at that mistake.

"Mister Potter," The warning tone in Snape's voice was enough to get Harry's attention.

"I-I want to show you something," Harry blurted out.

"Well," Snape crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm waiting."

"Not here, sir," Harry found himself mumbling, "I was wondering if you were free later."

"So you're wasting my time now, so you can waste it at another time?" Snape shook his head, "I've been patient enough with this," He moved towards the door, "If you were from any other house, I'd take points away and give you a detention for this waste."

"It's my mother!" Harry's panic at not just botching the situation but getting Snape's mood to worsen caused him to sputter before his head of house could open the door.

Snape went still, his hand on the doorknob, "What?" His voice was harsh, and hoarse.

"My mother," Harry told him, "It's a memory," he could explain it better at another time, "S-she had a message for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, sir, my father too."

Snape's hand clenched around the doorknob so tightly, his knuckles went white. "Your father," he growled at the words, but still didn't turn to face Harry,

"An apology," Harry knew enough about his parents' past from Moony and Roxanne to know of the bitter feud between his father and his head of house.

"From when you died," Snape said bluntly.

Harry was caught off guard by how Snape had known that sensitive truth.

"Don't be surprised, Mister Potter," Snape sensed it, "After all, who do you think brewed that potion."

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure what else to say. It made sense that Dumbledore would recruit someone as skilled as his head of house to make the potion as well as someone who the Headmaster trusted completely.

"You mean to borrow Dumbledore's pensieve," Snape kept his back towards Harry, body stiff, while his hand's grip on the doorknob remained tight.

"He's already given me permission, and says at your earliest convenience, you can see it."

"That won't be necessary, Mister Potter," Snape opened the door, "Because I decline."

"He said no?"

Harry didn't tell the story of what happened until he and his friends were out of the dungeons after their potions class. Not wanting to risk Professor Snape overhearing their conversation.

"Yeah," Harry answered Daphne's question.

"But why?" Tracey frowned.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know." He had been wondering the same thing throughout their potions class which had made it difficult for him to pay attention to what Snape had been trying to teach.

Neville groaned. "I'm doomed."

The Gryffindor had endured another poor potions class and while Snape seemed more distracted then their previous classes, Neville was still struggling. Nervous and afraid that any second he could be the target of Snape's ire made his potion barely passable in class, and it only did that well because Theo had to do his best to try to counteract Neville's self-inflicting sabotage.

"There has to be a reason," Hermione pointed out. "It just doesn't make sense."

"If there a reason," Theodore observed, "I'm not sure Professor Snape will share it willingly or at all."

"That's true," Hermione conceded, "But maybe the Headmaster knows."

"It's possible," Daphne agreed, "But if he did then why not warn Harry that Professor Snape might decline when he asked to borrow the pensieve."

"Oh right," Hermione looked put out at that reminder.

"What are you going to do?" Tracey asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry answered honestly, he hadn't been expecting Snape to decline him, and now that he had, Harry wasn't sure what the best course of action would be. Should he just let that be the end of it? He tried, Snape declined, so he should move on.

No, Harry didn't like that. It seemed important to him that Snape see the memory for himself. His mother and father had specific messages for his head of house, and Harry was determined to make sure they were delivered. For him to do that, he knew he had to see Dumbledore.

"You want me to do what?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "No need for the dramatics, Harry."

"Yeah," Tracey agreed with her friend, "It's not like we're asking you to swim naked in the Great Lake."

Harry and his friends had been enjoying the silence as they studied and worked on their homework at their favorite table in the library. With September nearly over, and their schedule for classes in full effect, their workload had only gotten bigger especially with added electives now on their plate.

"Haven't you guys been over this before?" Neville looked up from behind his Herbology book.

"I've lost count," Theodore answered dryly. While he continued to scribble down notes on Red Caps for their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

Hermione smiled from where she was sitting, looking a bit tired as she had textbooks from Charms, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy all opened in front of her.

"I just don't like it," Harry found the idea distasteful. He couldn't help but think of Malfoy whenever this particular option had been brought up by Daphne in the past.

"To take pride in what you did?" Daphne challenged.

"You're not talking about pride," Harry argued, "But arrogance."

"A little boasting couldn't hurt, Harry," Tracey's eyes flashed mischievously, "I do it all the time."

"This is different," Harry said, "You want me to brag about what I did," before amending, "What we did," He shook his head, "It just sounds so-"

"Malfoyish?" Theodore supplied with a grin.

"Yes," Harry sent his friend a grateful nod.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking you to be like Malfoy." Her face grimaced at the mention of their former Slytherin house mate, "But you've done amazing things, Harry, things worthy of respect." She smiled at him.

Harry felt a sudden but gentle tug in his chest. It wasn't her usual smile when she told a joke, or got caught saying something snarky. This one was different, sincere and beautiful, and he couldn't help but silently admire how different it made his friend look, or how it made him feel especially when he was the reason behind it.

"Things that make us believe in you, trust in you, and I think it would be worth considering if you just showed some of that pride when dealing with our house so that they can see you the way the rest of us do," Daphne gestured to herself before the others.

"She has a good point there."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said to his Gryffindor friend while he couldn't help but silently agree with his statement.

He had gotten better at receiving compliments or credit since he left the Dursleys but it still had a way of making him feel uncomfortable. Harry tried so hard and so long to shy away from attention to not earn the ire of his relatives as he grew up in Dudley's shadow.

However, it still lingered even now. That creeping sense of discomfort. The sudden need to instantly deny what she said, to squash any sort of confidence or happiness before it could bloom. To try to argue that he wasn't worthy of such praise that he didn't deserve it, and list the faults he had heard for so many years from his Aunt and Uncle.

Hearing it from Daphne made it different. He felt heat stir in his stomach at her words, at her tone. A rush of confidence seemed to come to him at seeing that smile at hearing her sincerity. It was a new and exciting feeling that had him feeling nearly euphoric and he was quick to want to welcome it.

"I know you don't like the attention," it was as if she knew what he was thinking, "But Slytherin house needs your leadership moving forward, not Alexius, or anyone else. You."

"That's true," Hermione spoke up.

"It is, mate," Theodore patted him on the back.

Tracey nodded in confirmation to what the others were all agreeing on. "We shouldn't have to be ashamed of our families," She reminded him, "It's our skill not our blood that should prove our worth."

They're right, Harry knew it. However, he had always shied away from doing what he had to do because of the insecurity the Dursleys instilled in him. In not believing in himself, from hoping someone else would stand up so he didn't have to, but it had to be him. If he truly wanted to help his house then he had to be more active to see that change become a reality.

He gave excuses before. He tried to downplay his need to do or say something. He stalled and he stalled, but Harry knew from the beginning when he and his friends first planned to reform their house that they'd need a leader to rally around and as the others had always wanted it to be him, he had always denied it. Never wanting the mantle, never believing himself capable of it, or the responsibility that came with it.

It was one thing to trade insults with Draco or to stand up to Tracey and his friends, but this would be different. He needed to seize this opportunity and not let go. He needed to prove to Slytherin that there was a better way, and that he could show it to them.

Harry couldn't fear it any longer. He couldn't let this self-doubt rule him. He had to conquer it. This would be his first step.

"You're right." He knew at once that it wasn't the answer they were expecting given Daphne and Tracey's surprised expressions. Both friends appeared to be resigned that he'd dismiss their suggestions as he'd done the times before.

"What did you say?" Tracey was tapping her ear as if it had stopped working, "It sounded like you agreed with us."

Harry smiled at her dramatics, "I did." He moved his eyes towards Daphne to see she had quickly slid away the surprised expression that had just graced her face and had replaced it with a smile-the same smile she had shown him minutes before.

"Thank you, Harry," she reached across the table to pat his hand, the contact was brief, but Harry relished every second of her hand on his. Even when he felt a bit of warmth come to his face at the contact and the smile she continued to give him.

"You're welcome," He surprised himself when he enclosed his fingers around her hand and squeezed, "Thanks, for believing in me." He was certain he saw a faint bit of red touch her cheeks, but that could've been his own newfound self-confidence deluding him.

She nodded, signaling she heard, their hands remained that way for the following seconds before she discreetly slid her fingers out of his grip and back to her side of the table where her hand picked up her quill and began writing on her parchment.

In that moment, Harry remembered that he and Daphne hadn't been alone. Looking around to see his friends were looking at him with varying degrees of interest. Realizing the others had noticed the exchange between them, Harry felt the heat return to his cheeks at being caught in that brief, but intimate moment between himself and Daphne. A moment that was something new and incredible, and what felt like a first between the two of them

He then put his attention on the homework in front of him and found himself doing something he never had before, smiling as he finished his essay for History of Magic.