Sirius Black sat in the chair across the doctor.
"So Sirius," Dr. Padena began, "Do you mind answering a few questions for me?"
Sirius looked up at him, and that alone was enough to send shivers up his spine.
Those stormy grey eyes had seen more than anyone his age should.
"I'm not crazy," the boy told him.
Padena sighed. "I never said that. But Sirius, your files state that you were diagnosed with severe depression when you were six—"
"I'm not depressed." Again, with those chilling eyes.
"—and that you also have anger problems and sudden mood swings—"
"WHO TOLD YOU THIS? WAS IT MY FATHER?! WHY—"
"Mr. Black, I will sedate you if necessary." Sirius glared icy daggers at him, but refrained from screaming.
"Much better. Now, on with the questions." He waited to see if the boy would protest, but he didn't. He just waited.
"Okay. What possessed you to throw your father down the stairs?" At this, Padena saw a flicker of pride on his patient's face.
"He made me mad."
"Your father is currently in St. Mungo's in critical condition. He has been in a coma for a week."
"Good. Bastard deserved it."
"So...do you think that he deserved to be treated like that?"
"Most definitely." Padena blinked.
"What...what did he do to make you mad?" Silence met this question.
And then something he would remember for years to come happened.
A single, crystalline tear ran down the pureblood's face.
"He hit Reg."