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P O R T R A I T S

Tiny.


“Good grief, she’s fat,” he said loudly, eyes widened at the large portrait before him.

“Hmph! Well, I guess you lot want to sleep outside. Good night!”

The group of first years groaned and started talking animatedly about how oblivious James Potter was.

He stumbled forward. Alarmed, he faced the crowd before him, looking for whoever pushed him.

“Don’t think I won’t fight each of you,” he declared, his small hands balled into fists.

“Calm down, Potter.” Sirius Black stepped forward smirking, dark mane not nearly as messy as James’. “You wouldn’t be able hit a fly with those fists.”