Harry and his friends took their seats at the Gryffindor table at the Great Hall. Harry was looking forward to the Sorting, and especially hearing the Sorting Hat's new song. The one from last year had been rather dismal, talking about dark times ahead (of which he was all too aware, what with Voldemort being back and Fudge refusing to believe this), and the need to unite with the other houses. While the Slytherin house was still hopeless, a bunch of Death Eater aspirants and those who might not want to follow Voldemort as closely but had no problems with what he represented, there was some good in the other houses.

The new class of first years looked shorter than ever, and Harry noticed that a few looked downright terrified. A couple even had faces streaked with dried tears, as though they had been crying on the train.

But why would they...oh, right.

The answer dawned on him. It was their first time away from home, and they knew that they wouldn't be seeing their families again until near the end of December.

If anyone from Harry's year had been homesick, he hadn't known. Ron, of course, had his three brothers, and if he had been homesick, he knew the twins would have played pranks to cheer him up. Probably would have worked, too. Percy, on the other hand, would likely have said something that was meant to be encouraging, but utterly useless. Neville hadn't been homesick, but for the first few weeks, he seemed like he could hardly believe he had gotten in, and expected to fail everything. As for Dean and Seamus, Harry hadn't known them very well back then, but as far as he could recall, they hadn't shown any signs of missing home.

Until his last summer with Sirius, Harry had always looked forward to returning to school. Well, maybe he had been a bit wary the previous year, and the summer before his second year, it had been a struggle not to envy Ron's family. Now, though, as much as he liked Hogwarts, he missed Sirius. His godfather would send him owls and they would talk via the enchanted mirrors, but he wouldn't be physically present until the beginning of October, at the earliest.

As he watched the Sorting Hat sing without paying much attention, anger filled Harry at the past fifteen years of his life. Mostly at Dumbledore, who had made Hagrid take Harry away from Sirius the night after his parents had died. He hadn't even stayed to talk to the Dursleys, to tell me them they better treat him well (not that it would have mattered). Just shipped him off to the muggle world with the intention of bringing him to Hogwarts in another ten years. Never mind that Grimmauld Place would have been impossible for Death Eaters to find, let alone penetrate. Or that Harry had a guardian who loved him and would have done anything to keep him safe. Or, even, that his parents would have wanted Sirius to raise Harry. There had been a will, after all. Sirius had kept a copy in his vault.

No, according to bloody Dumbledore, blood wards mattered more than all that. And, as a result, Sirius had run off to kill Wormtail (which would have made sense, as he had not only been a Death Eater, but the traitor, and surely escaped Azkaban by becoming his rodent self), landing him in Azkaban. Sirius had acted rashly, even foolishly, but he would never had done so if Dumbledore hadn't interfered.

Harry didn't realize the Sorting was over. He didn't realize his hands were fists until Ron elbowed him.

"You okay, mate?" he murmured, looking concerned.

Hermione mirrored his look, too.

Harry forced himself to unclench his fists. To take a deep breath and start eating. Because, in spite of the treats they'd had on the train, he was very hungry.

"Yeah," he said, although a little shortly, as he took a chicken leg from the plate. "I'm fine."

He tried to put his feelings aside, put up his Occlumency shields, and enjoy the feast. It worked, at least to an extent. He focused on the taste of the chicken, the baked potatoes, the steak and kidney pie. Harry didn't gorge himself, just ate his fill-leaving some room to enjoy the desserts that would follow.

Bad news came when he learned that Snape would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he forced himself not to react and give the git the satisfaction. Harry was sure that Snape looked his way as he stood in acknowledgment. Ron swore under his breath, earning him a dirty look from Hermione.

Well. So much for not seeing much of Snape this year. Of course the former Potions teacher would take over his best class. On the other hand, Harry thought, Snape will probably notice that he had a better understanding of Occlumency.

As soon as the feast was finished, he would talk to Sirius. His godfather would understand. He had probably been through all of this.

He just wished he could see Sirius in person.

Harry nearly choked on a bite of treacle tart as an idea occurred to him. He was having private lessons with Dumbledore this year. Under the meddling headmaster's insistence. Well, what if he insisted they not be private? That Sirius joined them?

It would give him the chance to see Sirius, really see him, about once a week. It would also mean that whatever Dumbledore said would be said to him as well. If he was still trying to interfere, he would be less likely to with another adult there.

Maybe.

As soon as the feast was over, he followed Ron and Hermione and Ginny to the tower. He made a note of the new password as Hermione said it.

"Harry, are you sure you're all right?" Hermione asked, looking him over. "You barely said a word during the feast."

Harry took another deep breath. These were his best friends, after all, and while he was still angry, it was nothing like the kind that had lived inside of him last year.

"I have a lot on my mind, is all. I think I'll have a chat with Sirius before bed," he said, keeping his voice casual.

"Okay, but you know we are here, too," Ron told him, giving Hermione the briefest glance.

"I know," Harry reassured them, and he didn't have to hide this. "It's just something I want to go over with him first. You go ahead. You still have a bunch of first years to send off to their dorms. Tiny ones, too," he added, glancing over at them.

Ron snickered. "They do get smaller each year." Turning to the male students, he yelled, "This way, then!"

Harry headed to his dorm and immediately drew the sheets, performing the silencing charm silently, and without any difficulty. He was really becoming quite good at nonverbal magic.

After changing into pajamas, he retrieved the mirror and cloak from his school robes.

"Sirius," he said clearly, leaning against the pillow.

His godfather's face came into view immediately.

Another pang went through Harry as he realized he could have had this from January onward, if only he had bothered to unwrap the parcel.

He swallowed again and managed a smile.

"Hey, Sirius," he said, aware that his voice sounded more husky than usual.

"Hey, pup. Everything okay?"

Harry exhaled, figuring he would start with the least of the worst pleasant to talk about.

"Snape's teaching Defense."

The effect was almost comical. Sirius looked like he had swallowed a lemon whole, then let loose several swears.

"Pretty much," Harry summarized, not managing to hide a snicker at his godfather's reaction. "Least he won't use a blood quill."

The lines had disappeared entirely from his hand, thanks to the salve that hurt nearly as much as the quill had.

"If he even threatens it..." Sirius growled.

Harry felt a pang as he knew what Sirius would do to protect him.

"Good thing we studied Occlumency this summer. Not that it's likely to be part of the class," Harry said, reflectively.

"No, but it's a damn good thing that we studied nonverbal ones. He became quite good at those during our sixth year. Nearly killed James with some curse, and there was no warning. Just at the start of term, too. Bet he spent the summer practicing to get revenge on us," Sirius snarled. "I won't blame you if you get a detention every class, pup."

Harry snorted. "And spend more time with him? No thanks."

"Smart, try to keep your nose clean if you can. Still, you won't actually learn anything from him. Just study the book, and we can work on it during breaks," Sirius advised.

Harry nodded. "Sirius, I was thinking..."

"You haven't changed your mind about coming home for Christmas?" Sirius asked, looking alarmed.

Harry shook his head. "No, not at all! It's, well, you see..."

Over the next quarter hour or so, Harry explained to Sirius what he had been thinking about during the feast, and concluding with his idea of Sirius joining him when Dumbledore gave private lessons.

Sirius nodded and made all the right comments as Harry talked, which was both reassuring and painful. Because he missed him more than earlier, and it was another reminder of what they had both lost.

"I think it's a great idea. If he tries to convince you otherwise, threaten not to go," Sirius began. "Even if the meddling fool threatens detention."

Harry nodded, feeling a bit better. "Think he will?"

Sirius sighed. "I used to think he was the greatest wizard of our time. Might still be, but I can't help seeing how he treats others as tools. Look at how he treated you in the last year alone. And, to a lesser extent, never fighting to give me a trial," Sirius explained. "He spoke up to testify that I was at the Ministry last spring to protect you, but anyone who was there could have done that."

"And taking me from you," Harry added, bitterly.

"Yes," Sirius agreed, not without some anger. "Blood wards are certainly powerful, but I would have taken you to Grimmauld Place, and you know how protected that is. Remus would have helped out, too. Prevented me from spoiling you too much. Well, maybe." Sirius chuckled, then. Softly he added, "I know that it can be hard not to brood about it. I've done plenty of that."

"Any advice?" Harry said, changing his sitting position, as his legs were beginning to fall asleep.

"Know that he's a great wizard but not perfect and rarely has our best interests at heart, so we can't take everything he says at face value?" Sirius shrugged. "I'll let you know if I ever figure it out."

"Twelve years in Azkaban is way worse than ten with the Dursleys," Harry admitted.

"Yeah, but I was an adult, pup. And my parents were awful, but at least they didn't half starve me," Sirius reminded him. "We both had it bad, and it shouldn't have happened. Just try to enjoy Hogwarts, all right?"

Harry nodded. "I will." He yawned. "Should be heading to bed, 'specially if I end up in Defense tomorrow."

"Want me to help me clear your mind?"

Harry didn't need it, but he nodded, and curled up under the covers. Listened to Sirius's directions, and imagined that he was really there, holding him and running his hands through his hair.

Well, at least he could still talk to him and see him.

The following day, handing out the class schedules took longer than usual. Although Hermione was cleared for all her seven classes (not needing the use of a time-turner), Neville's schedule was a bit more difficult to sort out. McGonagall reluctantly cleared him for Potions after telling him his Acceptable was too low to continue Transfiguration. He also went ahead with DADA (in spite of it being taught by Snape), Charms, and, of course, Herbology.

Harry and Ron had identical schedules, and a free period immediately afterwards. To their disgust, though, their first class of the year would be DADA with Snape.

"Good thing you got some practice before," said Ron, a bit glumly, as they used their free time to play wizards Chess.

"You're not mad, are you?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "I was thinking that Mum probably didn't even know. You know that dark families like Malfoy's would have figured it out. Not that Sirius is dark, just his parents," he added, quickly, ears red.

Harry could hardly deny that.

"Yeah, and with your dad working at the ministry, they probably didn't want to take any risks," Harry added.

"Is it hard? Learning nonverbal magic?"

Harry nodded. "Sure takes some some getting used to, and you need to practice with easy spells. But Sirius says they don't do that, or didn't when he went to school." He shrugged. "Stuff like lumos. Once you get the hang of those, you move onto the harder stuff."

Ron's bishop captured one of Harry's knights.

"Sure, because they have to make it harder for us," Ron laughed.

Harry was correct about Snape starting with nonverbal magic-once he made this big speech about how horrible their previous teachers were and seemed to confess his love for the dark arts. Harry sat in silence, keeping his Occlumency shields up, and when it was time for them to begin practicing Shield charms, he paired with Ron.

It was rather boring, really. There was a lot of muttering curses and counter-curses, although Ron managed to ignore the temptation, even if he looked rather purple in the face several moments in. Harry simply stood with his wand raised, waiting for the jinx that was unlikely ever to come.

Hermione had managed to repel Neville's Jelly-Legs Jinx barely ten minutes into the practice, true to Snape's command of using nonverbal magic. While Harry knew he could have managed this, Hermione had just started learning how to use nonverbal magic today. Well, perhaps the previous evening. Of course, Snape ignored the feat, even though any other competent teacher would have awards Gryffindor at least twenty points.

Finally, Snape stepped in.

"Pathetic, Weasley," he practically sneered. "Here. Let me show you."

He turned his wand on Harry, but he was prepared. Weeks of dueling with Sirius had given him some good skills, and he thought, "Protego!" with such force that Snape was knocked off balance and stumbled against a desk.

The whole class looked around at the noise, and there were a few low sniggers at Harry having bested Snape. Harry, for his part, tried to keep his face blank, but Snape seemed determined to punish him.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" he snapped.

Everyone quieted down, with the exception of a few groans.

"For once, Potter," he added, staring down at Harry, "that was adequate. Clearly, your skills in Defense Against the Dark Arts surpass your abysmal ones in Potions. As for the rest of you," he practically growled, "continue to practice your Shield charms. If I do not see improvement by the next class, I shall ensure that there will be consequences."

Then, he assigned them enough homework for two weeks, and dismissed them.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" beamed Hermione, once they had left the class.

Harry tried to shrug, but couldn't help grinning. "I had a lot of practice, and a good teacher."

"The prat nearly gave you a compliment!" Ron murmured, awestruck.

"Also took ten points from our house," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, Hermione will earn that back by the end of the next class, right?" Ron asked, giving Hermione a nudge.

"Perhaps," she replied, trying not to look too pleased. "Harry, you really should start up the DA once more. Yes, I know that Dumbledore's back, but you're obviously the best of our year when it comes to Defense, and you've had lots of practice over the summer. Not that we'll tell anyone that, of course. Won't you think about it?"

Harry considered. "Maybe. S'ppose we see how hard this year is before making plans like that? Anyway, Snape's a prat, but at least he's letting us use magic in class. Kind of defeats the purpose of having the DA, you know?"

"You're a way better teacher than him any day," Ron protested.

As they all had a free period, they headed back to the Common Room, where Jack Sloper found Harry and handed him a note from Dumbledore, and pestered him about when he would be starting tryouts.

Harry read over the note and saw that his first lesson would be on Saturday at 8. Great, he would be sure to let Sirius know that evening.

Hermione started to take out her DADA homework, but Ron began speculating what Dumbledore would teach Harry, and the conversation proved too interesting (or too distracting) for her to get much work done. Ron thought it would be unknown hexes and jinxes, but Hermione was sure that this would be illegal to teach an underage wizard. After their break, Hermione headed to Arithmancy, and Harry and Ron began to start Snape's homework. It was far more difficult than he would have expected, and had there not been others in the Common Room, he would have had a hard time resisting the temptation to use the mirror to ask Sirius for help.

After Hermione returned, they did manage to finish the assignment, and then it was time for Potions.

For the first time since before his first year Potions class, Harry went to the Dungeons with some eagerness.

A/N:

With Sirius training Harry, I don't believe that he would have resorted to a verbal "Protego" and the exchange leading to his detention would not have occurred. Not that this is a major plot point, but I want to show that Harry is becoming less rash and gaining more control of his magic. Snape still takes away points because he's Snape, but Harry gets a chance to shine.

Next up: Potions with Slughorn.