It had all started with the family reunion. His parents had planned everything perfectly. Well, almost everything. Because unfortunately; Orion and Walbugura Black could never really plan their eldest son, Sirius. No matter how hard they tried, Sirius had his own way of screwing with the whole occasion. It did not matter the occasion, it did not matter if Sirius planned the way it was done, if he half planned it, made it up on the spot, or did it completely on accident. He would find some way to mess the whole thing up. He had been doing this since he was a very small child, and he wasn't going to stop now that he was 16.
The family reunion's theme this year was Slytherin (or Ravenclaw, if you happened to be one of the occasional respectable pureblood Ravenclaws in the Black family). Needless to say, Sirius's parents did not want him to show up representing Gryffindor, so they had given him a neutral unassuming black suit to wear. Here, Sirius saw a problem. If everyone else could support their house, why couldn't he?
It was this logic that caused Sirius to saunter into his parent's den, where the reunion had been moved so the adults could talk, decked out in scarlet and gold. A Gryffindor tie around his head, holding back his long black hair, into which he had weaved gold and red ribbons. Sirius had replaced his black silk button down shirt with a t-shirt that bore a lion that opened its mouth to roar silently. His suit had been re-colored by magic to become Gryffindor colors. And his face bore paint in the bright warm colors of the house of the brave at heart.
Orion and Walbugura Black were not amused. They were not stunned whatsoever. They were not even angry. The rest of the Black family were the ones who showed these emotions. But as for Sirius's mother and father; they were furious. This was unforgivable. He was unforgivable, a disgrace and now, lying on the bed in his room, he was about to receive the punishment that in his parents eyes he had been living up to since he first ever dared to disgrace them.
"Sirius?" Sirius's little brother, Regulus, poked his head into his room.
Sirius sat up and looked at his brother, who now seemed rather uncomfortable and awkward.
"Yeah, Reg? What's up?"
"D-dad wants you. You know, in the basement?" Regulus seemed apprehensive of Sirius's reaction.
"The… basement kitchen… right, Reg?" Sirius asked, not really wanting the answer.
"No, Sirius… the-" Regulus took a deep breath before he broke the ice. "The other basement. Dad's workroom."
"Dad's… oh gosh, Reggie, you don't think?" he looked to regulus for some kind of reconciliation.
"I'm sorry, Sirius. You're gonna wanna go now, it might be worse if you don't."
Sirius nodded and stood to go down the steps to his doom. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I really am sorry, Sirius. I'm supposed to go talk to Mum in the den, is that okay?"
Sirius nodded mutely, it wasn't like he could make Regulus come with him anyways. The brothers walked down stairways together, Regulus holding the older boy's hand in the false hope that it would give him comfort. The Regulus turned into the den with a quiet 'good luck' after they went down a few flights of stairs.
Sirius continued the long journey down the stairs until he reached the door by the steps to the kitchen. The door that would most likely lead to hours of his own suffering. The door that had before led to his own screams of agony as his father used any means necessary to mold him into a perfect pureblood, and failed. Sirius bit his quivering lip, reached for the cold silver doorknob and padded down the dark staircase into what would most likely be an agony filled night.
He did not bother to turn on a light; he only stood in the pitch black room, waiting… Sirius did not have to wait very long. The door swung open with a loud rush of air and smashed into the wall behind it. Sirius's body tensed fearfully and he began to bite his lip so hard that he tasted blood; and judging by how that door had been opened, he would probably taste more of it later tonight.
"Interesting entrance you made tonight, son" Orion said, as he sauntered towards his cowering son.
He did not have a belt in his hand; he did not have a wand, or a knife. His physical weapon would be chosen in a moment, but now, his words were his weapon.