The time between Chapter 9 and Christmas break proceeded calmly enough. Well, with some exceptions, of course. I don't need to tell you what the hell happened. You should have read the fucking book. Not my fault if you you're not up to snuff.

Where was I?

Damn, lost my train of thought. Look what you've done. I'll have to start again! Damn readers and their unending demand for my blood to be spilled. I don't have to write this, you know. I could be watching Netflix. Or doing schoolwork. God knows I don't have enough of that shit to do. I had to build a freaking 1"-1' scale model of a Japanese tea house for my studio, and that was not a cake walk. The thing was huge! Took a week and cost me a small fortune in plexiglass and basswood. Plus I spilled tea all over my laptop, so it's at IT, and they told me I should have it back by the end of the semester, but who believes that? You ever dealt with IT? They take so long to do anything and act like it's such a great inconvenience to them that you've cocked up your PC when they're not the ones unable to access the 10gb of pornography on their hard drive. That shit was well-curated. It'll take me weeks to find them again. I'll be honest with you, there's a lot of things on that computer that are frankly horrifying. Don't judge me! We've all been to the Dark Side of the Web. A man has urges, even if they do border on the obscene and illegal.

Anyways…

Harry was having a pretty rubbish time at Hogwarts. Sure, there was Dumbledore's Army to keep him occupied, but between Umbridge's ever-growing domination of the school, his lifetime ban from Quidditch, the malicious Occlumency lessons with Snape, and his strange visions of Voldemort, he felt like a toad in a blender.

He had fallen rather heavily for the Ravenclaw Cho Chang, but as Vassago pointed out, she had too much baggage for a healthy relationship. Seeing your boyfriend die in gruesome circumstances isn't good for the mind.

Speak of the devil, Vassago's tutoring sessions had tapered off, as Harry spent more time practicing Dark Magic alone in the Room of Requirement. He was loathe to admit it, but he was glad to have the demon at Hogwarts. He didn't care if his friends thought he'd lost his mind. He didn't care what they thought of the Vassago. The 'fraud' had done more to help him than anyone else at the damned school.

Of course, it couldn't last. He just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Snape was really giving him hell. "Concentrate, Potter. You're defenses are weak. Not that I expected anything different, of course, but we've been doing this for weeks now and it's not very fun for me anymore."

"I'm sorry you're having such a rough time," Harry said, grimacing as his mind was probed mercilessly by the Potions professor. "Believe me, it pains me to see you so discomforted."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek," Snape replied automatically. He broke the Legilimens on the boy and rubbed his head. "I'll be back in a moment. I need an aspirin from Madame Pomfrey."

Harry may have been knocked to the floor in a quivering heap, but he couldn't help himself. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

Snape strode out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

"How does he do that with his robes?" a voice asked from nowhere. Harry sat up in surprise and looked around. A second later Vassago appeared beside him, cradling a lustrous cloak in his arm. "There's no wind down here, so how do they billow like that?"

"Is that my Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked, staring at the garment in the demon's hand.

"No."

"My name is on the inside collar. How did you get that?"

"I stole it from your room," Vassago replied. He held up a hand to stop Harry's protests. "Don't worry, I steal from everyone."

At that moment, in another part of the castle, Argus Filch opened his liquor cabinet and swore. "Where the bloody hell's all my brandy?"

"What am I doing wrong?" Harry asked, rubbing his head gingerly.

"Everything," Vassago said, pulling small bottle of brandy from his coat pocket and uncorking it. "Don't beat yourself up about it, though. It's Snape's teaching to blame. He's giving you absolutely no proper advice or guidance whatsoever. If I didn't know better, I'd think he has a personal vendetta against you."

"Brilliant insight," Harry growled. He suddenly realized something, "Snape hasn't seemed to have discovered anything in my mind about our… relationship."

The demon chuckled. "That's my doing. I keep obliviating him after every lesson. Probably explains why he's so crabby all the time. Also explains his recent lapses in memory."

Meanwhile, Snape was standing outside of the Hospital Wing doors, suddenly conscious that he had somehow forgotten how doorknobs worked.

"Get it together, Severus," he muttered as he examined the knobs carefully.

Vassago patted Harry on the shoulder. "Look, kiddo, you keep telling yourself you can't keep Snape out of your mind. We all know that's bullshit. If you can do half the things we've been studying together, you can easily do this. You just need the confidence."

"That sounds like some cliched sports movie pep talk."

"Of course it is. But cliches work. If they didn't, why would we see them in story after story after story?"

"So you're saying the power of belief and positivity will guide me to victory?" Harry asked, unconvinced.

"I'm saying quit acting like an angsty little bitch, grow a pair and act like the fucking Boy-Who-Lived for once." Footsteps sounded out in the hallway. "Remember what I said and remind Snape that no one fucks with Harry Potter." With that, the demon donned the Invisibility cloak and disappeared in a flourish of green screen technological mumbo-jumbo.

Moments later, Snape swept into the classroom. "Ok, we've got ten minutes until I'm off duty, so let's take this from the top. Try not to fail, I know it's asking too much."

"I'll try my best," Harry replied.

"That's not very reassuring," Snape muttered. "Very well, Legilimens."

"Are you alright, professor?"

Snape groggily came to on the floor of the potions classroom, blood streaming from his broken nose. "Bloody hell," he gasped. "Potter! What did you do?"

"I raised my defenses, just as we practiced," Harry replied smugly.

"I feel like I ran into a brick wall." Snape sat up and fished in his robe pocket for a handkerchief to staunch the blood.

"I learned from the best," Harry said, smiling thinly.

"I think I need a lie down," Snape muttered.

"Probably a bad idea if you have a concussion. I'll walk you to the infirmary."

As Harry led a dazed Professor Snape up the dungeon stairs, the gloomy silence was broken by an unearthly shriek. "What was that?" Snape said, adding hearing damage to his running list of maladies.

"It sounded like Professor Trelawney," Harry replied. He began to run, half-dragging the protesting potion master along with him.

They found the source of the commotion in the great hall, crying atop a collection of luggage. Professor Umbridge surveyed the scene with a look comparable to a Nazi officer on Passover. "As I was saying before the theatrics began, you are hereby relieved of your position as Divination Professor."

"Sixteen years!" Trelawney wailed miserably. "Sixteen years I've taught at this school. You can't simply throw me out."

"I think you'll find I can," Umbridge replied. "Don't think for a moment that I enjoy seeing you fired. I do, but that's neither here nor there. Mr. Filch will be here shortly to escort you off the premises, preferably with bodily force."

"Well, well, well," Vassago emerged from the gathering crowd and wandered over to stand next to Trelawney. "What do we have here? Preying on the feeble-minded, Delores? Shocking. Does your depravity have no bounds?"

"Feeble-minded?" Trelawney said, breaking with the theatrics long enough to look offended.

Umbridge smiled. It was not a pretty sight. "Ah, Professor Vassago. You've arrived just in time."

"In time for what?" Vassago asked, stepping across the hall towards the pink monstrosity. "An ugly sweater contest? To be honest, I'm rather underdressed for the occasion."

"Actually, I wanted to discuss the terms of your dismissal."

"I think you'll find that difficult. I'm not easily dismissed. I have an issue with authority."

"Could you come closer?" Umbridge asked. "I'm rather deaf, and I can't hear you." Vassago took a few steps closer. "Just a couple more," Umbridge requested. "And a little to the left."

Vassago complied. Only when he glanced down for a moment did he see that he had been tricked. "Oh, fuck."

Vassago had stepped into a ring of white power poured onto the floor in a perfect concentric circle.

"I was worried you wouldn't fall for it," Umbridge said, grinning to herself. "Of course, observation has proved that you aren't as clever as you appear to be."

She turned to the student body and puffed herself up. "Boys and girls, I believe there is something you should know about your beloved Professor Vassago."

"I'm not sure 'beloved' is the term I'd have used," Ron Weasley said, a tad too loudly.

"This man is not who he appears to be." Umbridge turned back to Vassago. "Anything you would like to confess to?"

"I once ripped the tag off a mattress," Vassago replied in a deadpan tone, eyes narrowed at the dumpy woman.

"It seems that Mr. Vassago is an intruder, a fraud. To be precise, he is an unearthly creature, sent to do harm on you children. Is this correct, demon?"

The crowd gasped in horror. A hundred eyes turned to look at Vassago, who appeared unfazed. "I plead the fifth."

"He has been sent here to corrupt you, to fill your minds with subversive thought."

"Yeah, I was going to have you stand on your desks and recite Transcendentalist poetry," Vassago muttered.

"Fortunately, the Ministry has sent several wizards from the Department of Mysteries to remove him from this earthly realm." Several wizards in pointy cloaks emerged from the crowd and gathered around the demon. "You shall be banished back to Hell, demon. Any final words?"

Vassago turned around to look at the students. His eyes locked on Harry's and he smiled wanly. "Well, it's a fair cop. I am a demon, sent to corrupt your minds. It's a shame I was caught before tomorrow evening's lesson: we'd have gone parading through the Forbidden Forest naked, chanting in dead tongues to raise the spirits of the damned. It would've been great fun, especially the extra-credit orgy afterwards. Alas, I have been exposed. Of course, I don't plan to leave on anyone's accord but my own."

The demon turned back to Umbridge. "Nice trick with the salt circle. Too bad it doesn't work. A myth. I'm in no way trapped. As for these Klansmen you've dispatched," he waved his hand, and the cloaked wizards dropped to the floor, unconscious. "they should've known better. Of course, you don't choose your minions for their wit; you choose them for their willingness to obey blindly.

"So, as I was saying, you can't make me leave. However, I find very little reason to stick around," he turned to give a final glance at Harry and smiled. "Don't worry, though. I'll always be here, watching, waiting.

"Alright, this showboating is getting rather old. I'm out."

There was a blinding flash of light, and when everyone's vision cleared, the salt circle was empty.