Wow, I'm on a roll recently, aren't I? Just goes to show how I'm willing to avoid architecture at any cost. Enjoy this piece.

Haven't really said this before, but I don't own Harry Potter. Didn't think I needed to say it, really. J.K. wears the pants in this relationship. I do claim to own Vassago, so there's that. Anyway, don't sue or whatever.

Part 1: It gets better

One night later, Harry was ensconced in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, downing a bottle of firewhiskey and attempting to forget.

"Harry, we need to talk."

"Whatever anyone's said, it's a lie," Harry replied automatically, before stopping himself. He glanced up at Hermione and Ron, who were standing in front of him, looking at him with some confusion. Neville and Luna Lovegood (who let her in the common room?) stood behind them, Neville shaking slightly, Luna staring into space and fiddling absentmindedly with her radish earrings.

"What's a lie?"

"Nothing. Ignore that. What do you want?"

Ron shuffled his feet. "Well, we've been thinking, Hermione and I, and we may have been a little harsh with you."

Harry barked out a laugh. "What gave it away? The part where you doused me in holy water or the time you sewed silver crosses into my school robes?"

"Both, to be honest," Hermione replied. "The point of this is, Harry, that we're sorry for the way we reacted. At this stage you don't need to be alienated any further, especially by your friends. I'll admit I'm not entirely comfortable with your deal with Professor Vassago, but I can understand your reasons for doing so."

"Yeah, Dumbles wasn't exactly as helpful as he could have been," Ron added thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you'd almost think he has some strange hidden agenda going on," Harry remarked with a smirk, setting down the firewhiskey bottle and standing up. "Thanks, guys, that took a lot of guts, admitting you were in the wrong."

"Does that mean we're good?" Ron asked with a smile.

"Fuck no!" Harry replied sharply, causing his friends to jump back slightly. "This isn't some stupid work of fiction where I'll forgive you two for being assholes just because of the power of friendship and understanding and all that crap. I forgive you, but we're not square. Not yet. You want to help me fight Voldemort, I'm not going to stop you, but that requires a willingness to ignore your moral compass at times. Got it?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at one another with uncertainty before turning back to Harry and nodding. "Deal."

"Good, because this may get messy. Lines will be crossed. I should tell you that I've got Draco Malfoy working with me now. I'm putting aside my dislike of him for the moment, and I expect you two to do the same."

"Just as long as you aren't screwing him or anything," Ron said, laughing.

"OH COME ON! IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE!"

Hermione and Ron turned white. The rest of the crowded room turned and stared at Harry in a mix of confusion and shock. "Harry," Hermione squeaked. "You.."

"It was for comic relief, mainly," Luna said, smiling dumbly. "The last few chapter were far too serious for the author's liking."

"Draco and you..." Ron said, before toppling over in a dead faint.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Should have kept my bloody mouth shut."

Hermione resisted the urge to vomit (she managed it better than Neville, who dove for the nearest bin) and smiled weakly, "Well, hopefully things can't get any worse."

Part 2: It gets worse

"'Educational Decree Number Sixty-Nine: In light of Ministry fears over the demon Vassago's influence on the school, all students and faculty will be submitted to mental examinations for demonic interference. Said examinations are mandatory,'" Hermione said, reading aloud the latest of Umbridge's posters.

"Well, fuck," Harry muttered.

"This is an outrage!" Heads turned as McGonagall descended the grand staircase, dragging a suitcase behind her. "I didn't even know he was a demon!"

"Hem hem," Umbridge appeared, smiling maliciously. Several aurors trailed behind her, wands ready for a conflict. "Maybe this will be a lesson on the dangers of inter-faculty relationships." She turned and glanced up the stairs at the remaining professors watching the Deputy Headmistress's sacking. "Anyone else want to fess up to… liaisons with the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

After a moment's pause, several professors meekly raised their hands. Snape, the only one who hadn't banged Vassago, glanced around in shock. "Binns? Why? How?"

The ghost shrugged unapologetically. "He made me feel corporeal again."

"That's an image I didn't need to think of," Snape said, biting back some bile.

"Well, happy birthday to me," Umbridge purred. Several first years went green at the sound.

"This is an outrage!" Malfoy had also made his entrance, holding a note in his quivering hand. "You can't expel me! My father practically owns your ass!"

"Political alliances must be disregarded at times for the good of the public," Umbridge replied stiffly. "Believe me when I say this pains me greatly, Mr. Malfoy." The smirk on her face, however, only grew wider. "Should have kept it in your trousers."

"I didn't have sex with the professor!" Malfoy shot back. "Such accusations are libelous, and I will take you to court."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to do that," Umbridge replied. "Ministry law states that any wizards or witches found to have, hem hem, socialized with known demonic entities are to be placed in forced incarceration in St. Mungo's possession ward."

"Since when?" McGonagall snapped angrily.

"Since yesterday, Minerva," Umbridge said smoothly.

At that moment, Harry felt the ground drop out from under him. He hit the ground hard, convulsing as his scar began to pulse and sting.

Images flashed through his mind: Voldemort, Sirius Black, the long hallway, yadda yadda, you get the picture.

When he came to, covered in a cold sweat, Hermione and Ron were helping him up.

"Voldemort?" Hermione whispered.

"Yeah," Harry could taste blood. "He's got Padfoot."

Umbridge, who had previously failed to notice the Golden Trio, was now grinning at them wickedly. "My, my. Has our resident celebrity had an attack?"

"That's my line," Snape grumbled. Sprout stomped on his foot and glared at him.

"Just a seizure, Headmistress," Hermione replied weakly. "He gets them sometimes. Epilepsy."

"Very unlikely, Miss Granger," Umbridge replied, stepping forwards smoothly. "Mr. Potter is known to have spent a lot of time around Professor Vassago. Seems he may have acquired a nasty case of something from him."

Hermione pulled out her wand, training it at the pink monstrosity. "Back off, toad. He's fine."

"Petrificus totalus." Hermione stiffened as one of the aurors calmly cast the spell at her.

Umbridge stepped up to her and casually pushed her over with her finger. "I would like to inspect Mr. Potter myself. I don't need your approval, Mud-"

"Enough!" Harry's wand was out and jabbed into the woman's neck in a flash. The gathered students gasped and stepped back. Ron looked gobsmacked. Harry's eyes flashed yellow. "This has gone too far," Harry said, his voice echoing through the hall.

"Potter, drop the wand now!" The aurors took up defensive stances. Several students, caught in the potential crossfire, hit the deck.

Harry grinned. "Potter's not here, Mrs. Torrance."

Harry's mouth suddenly opened up, unhinging, as a hand emerged from down his throat. As the crowd watched in stunned silence, the hand was followed by another, then arms and elbows, a head, a torso, and two feet. The mouth snapped shut, and Harry wavered for a second, as Vassago stood before him, smiling like a NASCAR fanatic after a spectacular crash.

"That," the demon began, pausing to stretch his back languidly, "was extremely uncomfortable. Honestly, Harry, you need to relieve your anxieties more. All those knots in your stomach made for cramped living arrangements."

He turned his attention away from Harry to Umbridge, who had broken free of the stunned Boy-Who-Lived's grip and was now quailing back. "Hello, Dolores. We need to talk."