"Why did Salazar Slytherin leave Hogwarts?" Severus asked the students gathered around him in the common room. There was definite progress made this year. No one had even sneered at him when he entered the room this evening, and space was instantly made for him on one of the couches near the fire in between the seventh year prefects.

A few were sneering now, of course. "To get away from the unworthy mudbloods the other Founders insisted on teaching," George Orwell drawled.

Severus inclined his head. "In simplistic terms. But why did he leave? Why did he give up?"

"He didn't give up! He... decided to continue his work somewhere else."

Severus fixed George with a Look. "There is no utility in glorifying the mistakes of the past."

"It wasn't a mistake," another boy insisted.

"Then where is Salazar's Academy of the Pure?" Severus challenged. "If it ever existed, it was such a failure as to be forgotten." A few students glowered at him. He smiled. "One must understand the past in order to learn from it. To do that, one must be open to uncovering the truth, not just the opinions held by others. Now. Why was Salazar so reluctant to teach the children of muggles?" Vivian rolled her eyes, clearly bored with the discussion. No one seem inclined to indulge him with hypotheticals, and from the look on Gwenog's face, she honestly didn't know the answer. "Mr. Rosier? Do you know?"

Felix frowned as everyone looked at him, but he nodded. He was the top scorer in History of Magic, after all. "There were a few reasons. Mudbloods from peasant stock were all supremely uneducated by the time they came to Hogwarts, so they weren't very good students for that reason. Plus, a lot of them were afraid of their own magic, especially the more advanced displays the Founders would put on, because their village priests often said it was demonic. Muggles were all theocratic back then, you see. The last of the Scottish muggle pagans converted to Christianity at swordpoint just two years after the founding of Hogwarts. Thus, Salazar believed the uneducated mudbloods needed to be taken from their families much, much younger and fostered to wizarding families, if they were to actually benefit from elite Hogwarts education without being a drag on the curriculum for everyone else. Or if too old they shouldn't be offered Hogwarts admission at all but rather alternative vocational training and service positions in wizarding society so that their children could be be brought up to read and write and go to Hogwarts and move up in society.

"On the other hand, educated mudbloods had even stronger religious notions that clashed with wizarding values and half the subjects Salazar taught. He and his students occasionally received threats from bishops and abbots whose nieces or nephews gained entry to Hogwarts and complained about his lack of respect for their faith. They often called him a heretic or demon-possessed, whereas the highborn mudbloods were mostly convinced they had been chosen by God or something. They could be virtually impossible to convince otherwise. The educated mudbloods from noble or clerical families were the ones he wanted to ban from wizarding society altogether, or kill if they caused trouble for wizarding settlements."

"Correct." Severus hadn't actually known all that until this past year, mind, when he'd decided to brush up on Slytherin history. "The disagreement with Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw was that the ladies did not think magical education should be denied to anyone with the talent, and that politics were irrelevant to the designs of the school. The disagreement with Godric Gryffindor was that Godric believed the problem of religion could be overcome by other means. Salazar grew frustrated and abandoned the project. In leaving, he was proven right. The curriculum shifted drastically after his departure, with a clear division forming between 'Dark' and 'Light' magic for the first time in the magical traditions of the British Isles. The classification was heavily influenced by the theology-inspired opinions of muggleborn students, including the founding member of the esteemed Abbot line. Meanwhile muggleborn illiteracy remained a problem for many centuries and placed huge burdens on the staff, even forcing a number of elective courses to be discontinued over the years, such as ritual creation, invocation, and sygaldry as resources instead diverted to intensive reading and writing classes. Though the illiteracy issue is of course now resolved, it was replaced by the problems created by the Statute of Secrecy and the increasing division between magical and muggle worlds. In leaving though, Salazar both lost the argument and allowed himself to be misunderstood and mistrusted by the majority of wizarding society. Forever."

He fell silent a moment, allowing the students to digest this information, likely new to rather a lot of them. "I of course am not here merely to discuss the history of our house with you. No, we are here for the conclusion of the Heir of Slytherin competition I had announced so many months ago. I told you up front that I would be picking the winner, and yet you have had several chances to vote this year as well. Hopefully, you have used this competition to reflect on the traits of Salazar Slytherin that made him a great man, even if he was also a complex, ambiguous, and fallible one. All of you are Slytherins, and I hope all of you have found something within yourselves that measures up to our Founder." He glanced at Bryce. The muggleborn boy was leaning haughtily against the wall near the hearth, disdaining the chair that was never offered to him.

"When I consider the life of Salazar Slytherin, I believe his greatest virtue to be his ambition - it was Rowena's idea to create a school, but Salazar who foresaw the scope of the venture and urged his friends to make the school the wonder it became. His shrewdness and determination were both strengths and weaknesses, for while he alone saw the risks of political influences on the school, he was too stubborn to reach a solution the others would abide by. He allowed his biases and pride to rule him in the end, and that has become the caricature the rest of the school sees when they think of Slytherin.

"The Heir of Slytherin I choose this year is the person I think Salazar himself would be most proud of, and indeed, it is the same person you have chosen in multiple votes. This person is ambitious, reaching beyond mere success to excellence. In pursuit of her ambition, she has proven herself to be both determined and shrewd, identifying and taking every advantage she could. She has also followed in Salazar's footsteps, ensuring that her ambitions serve this school. And she has even in one instance surpassed Salazar in recognizing and owning up to a mistake made as a result of overconfidence and underestimating others. This person has earned the titles of prefect and quidditch captain on her own merit, and performed the duties of each role with distinction. She has earned favor both in our own house and amongst staff and students in other houses with her extracurricular activities. It should come as no surprise to any of you that Gwenog Jones has won my favor, and I name her a true Heir of Slytherin House, representative of the best of us and all that we should and can be."

All the students sixth year and down broke out into applause for Gwenog. After a moment, Augusta started lightly clapping as well, the rest of the seventh years unhappily following her example.

He stood up and withdrew an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate to hand to Gwenog, who was grinning fiercely. "Congratulations. Part one of your prize, as promised. Let me know what potion you would like brewed by the end of term. I'll get it to you over the summer." He extended a hand, and she shook it enthusiastically.

"Thank you, sir. I swear I won't rest on my laurels."

"Quite. You might find it more challenging to keep them next year, though."

She only smiled, though her meaning was clear in her expression. Bring it on.

"I'll leave you to your celebrations. I suspect you have something planned?"

She nodded and signaled the rest of the quidditch team, who scampered towards their dormitories. "Parties are great - can be for victory or for congratulations. The only difference is in the banner. You earn friends either way."

"How practical."

The six quidditch players were returning with decorations, food, and butterbeer. They directed banners to the wall and refreshments to several tables. "Won't you join us, sir?" Gwenog said, clearly and with a formal cadence.

He hesitated. He hadn't planned on it. It would surely be awkward. It even felt transgressive, a professor having a party with students. Except, he realized, Professor Slughorn had done just that for years with the Slug Club. Gwenog even remembered Slughorn. She wasn't inviting him to celebrate her win. She was inviting him to show all the Slytherins his favor. "Thank you. A short while."

The first years cheered and then swarmed the sweets table. Second year Kirley Duke must have made more of his Pompion potion, for he suddenly sprouted a huge silver pumpkin for a head. His friends whooped and started rhythmically clapping, causing the pumpkin to flash with each beat. Kirley pulled an honest-to-merlin guitar out of his schoolbag, which must have an extension charm on it, and started strumming major chords.

Severus stepped back slightly as the students moved around him towards the tables, the entertainment, and Gwenog. While some cheering was yet ongoing, Augusta leaned in next to him and muttered, "Gwenog earned it, even if you were favoring her all along. But next year, the Heir will be a pureblood, I promise you that."

He smirked. "You won't even be here, but challenge accepted. I promise I'll be fair."

"Oh, I know you are. That makes it more fun, doesn't it?"

"It does. I'm glad you've come around to my way of thinking, Ms. Selwyn. Determination becomes you."

"Training a protégé to win your silly little contest is nothing but a hobby to me, Professor."

"I would not imagine otherwise for one of your standing." She sneered at him and stalked away towards Gwenog, assuming a dazzling false smile of congratulations.

Bryce quietly slid up beside him next. "Was all that about Salazar Slytherin and muggleborns true?" he asked softly.

Severus nodded. Presumably also racism, but not to the extent of modern pureblood families. Bryce grinned. Severus raised his eyebrows. "Something amuses you?"

"I can read, and I'm an athiest. Slytherin would be so damn proud to have me."

"Slytherin is proud," Severus confirmed softly.

"Thanks, sir. I won't tell anyone you said so."

"See that you don't." Bryce nodded and moved away.

Dirk Prentiss replaced him, an excited smile on his face. "Sir! I got a job!"

"Oh?"

He nodded eagerly. "Security guard for a rare potions ingredients factorage. I'll be escorting their shipments all over the world." He grinned. "I applied months ago, but only heard back after the article in the Daily Prophet about the Dueling Club. Interviewed the day after my last N.E.W.T., and I got the confirmation letter today."

"Congratulations. I hope you will find success."

And then there was Quentin, softly mumbling. "What happens if I just drop out now that I've done the O.W.L.s?"

"You already know, Quentin. You will be underqualified for most jobs." You will spend the rest of your life back in Nockturn Alley. You will forego two additional years of physical safety and free meals.

"I've probably failed everything anyway."

"It's surprisingly difficult to fail everything. Wait until you have your results before doing anything drastic. You may correspond with me over the summer if your results are not what you hoped them to be." He paused. "Why don't you go talk to Bryce?"

"The mudblood? Why?" Quentin said dubiously.

"Because he doesn't have any friends in Slytherin either, and you could both use one. Feel free to tell him I said so."

Quentin flushed but didn't talk back before edging away. Not quite towards Bryce.

As soon as he was gone, the first years, charged on sweets and butterbeer, finally approached him. "Professor Snape, I think Slytherin House must be the best one at Hogwarts!" Merula said enthusiastically.

"And we've got the best House Head!" Barnaby said loudly. Surprisingly, a few students from other years briefly cheered at his remark.

"I don't know about that."

"The way you took down Flitwick!" Ismelda enthused.

"What's that spell you used to stab him?" Elizabeth asked.

"One of my own invention that I do not share with students."

"Please!" They chorused.

"No."

"I promise we won't use it."

"No. Excuse me." He had just spotted a bottle of firewhiskey passing between seventh years on the other side of the room he needed to confiscate before either a younger student or Dirk Prentiss came into contact with it. Merlin, was he looking forwards to a break from the students. Peace and quiet and Privet Drive.

Author's note: another school year at an end. Hope you enjoyed it. Might have a bit of a break before the next chapters while I focus on outlining the next arc, but look for the next update on a Sunday as usual. Thanks for the reviews!