Sirius spent the next few days watching as the staff arrived from summer holiday and got Hogwarts ready for the students. Some, like Hagrid and Filch, spent all year on the grounds, but most did not. Sirius kept his distance, unsure of who was aware of his presence and who wasn’t. Dumbledore had mentioned telling staff members about him, presumably those who knew him during his first time here, such as McGonagall. It was a really odd perspective seeing the school like this, coming to life. The house elves, normally inconspicuous, darted all over cleaning up and cooking for the feast. Teachers set up their classrooms in anticipation of the students to come. The Heads of Houses readied their House’s common rooms. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout could frequently be seen going in and out of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dormitories respectively. Professor McGonagall, drill sergeant-like, oversaw it all, not only the readiness of Gryffindor House and her transfiguration classroom, but instructing the house elves on details for the feast, organizing the set up for the Great Hall, consulting with Hagrid on the arrival of the first years and preparing the roster for the sorting ceremony. Only one Head of House was conspicuously absent from the preparations. The Head of Slytherin House was nowhere to be seen.

“I trust you brought the requested item with you?” the first voice, a man, asked.

“I did,” a woman answered.

“One of Dumbledore’s more hair-brained schemes, in my opinion,” Severus Snape sneered.

“I’m afraid I’m not privy to that information,” the woman neither agreed nor disagreed with the statement.

The pair was crossing in front of Sirius’ hiding place. He risked a glance around the suit of armor. He could see Snape in profile, but nothing of the mysterious second person as Snape blocked her from view. Did he just look this way?

“I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with this deception, Severus,” the woman continued softly.

“Taking to lurking in dark corners now, are we Black?” the potions master drawled.

“No, Snape,” Sirius spat “we’ve already decided that’s your department.”

Snape smiled without mirth. “I see your experience with the veil has returned you to you last known maturity level, how fitting.”

Sirius grinned impudently, “I’m sure you wish you could – No, wait! You were miserable as a student and you’re just as miserable today. Probably better off as you are now, closer to being put out of your misery.”

Snape’s wand was suddenly in his hand. “Don’t tempt me Black, you may be under Dumbledore’s protection, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make your life a living hell. Just remember who has the authority here and who does not.”

Sirius leveled his wand at his old foe. He was quite aware of the new disparity between him and Snape in magical ability, but he never backed down from a fight. “Try it! What will you do? Dock house points?” he challenged sarcastically, “for all you know I could end up in your own house, wouldn’t that be funny?”

Snape pulled an envelope addressed to Sirius in Dumbledore’s handwriting, but pulled it away before Sirius could take it. “But, you won’t be needing it,” Snape raised his wand and tapped the envelope. “Incendio,” the bottom of it started to burn.