They talked through the night, taking turns insulting Dolores Umbridge, the mysterious Educational Decree, and of course, Harry's scar. He had to admit, it concerned him, and he had in fact informed Dumbledore. But Dumbledore's express words were to keep Harry in the dark, and keep Sirius locked up, and of course the escaped criminal with nowhere else left to go had to listen.
As wonderful as it was to see his godson again (ignoring the ache of his knees on the cold stone of the kitchen) his spirits quickly waned. He'd offered to meet them in Hogsmeade, just like last year. But they - Harry - didn't want to see him. Harry practically shouted at him to stay put. He could clearly see now that he was seeing a confused teenage Harry Potter, and not his best mate, risk-taker and loyal James.
"Well I'd better get going," he stated with a note of terse finality. "I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs. I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back in the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?" There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's head had been was flickering flame once more.