An Interference of Portraits

Possibly the Main Problem with The Portraits

I came to the conclusion that the main problem with The Portraits was that they were either arguing between themselves or they were ganging up together on me and that was probably because they were very bored. I mean, what did one talk about after several decades as a painting? They must run out of topics. It's not as if they could go anywhere or experience anything new on a daily basis or read a book or something. I realised that was why they liked me reading the news each morning. It gave them something to consider other than petty and repetitive bickerings and the more serious family feuds. Maybe that's why there were family feuds in these old families, simply because they spent all day winding each other up over hundreds of years and just building on it day by day because it was the only way they could gain any interest in the monotony of life as a painting.

I decided I would never have my portrait done. I mean, the whole thing was positively painful anyway and why would I want that in the first place?

It was no small wonder that Walburga had turned into a screaming hag when she was shut up all alone with just her thoughts to stew over for year on end. And it explained why The Portraits stopped me virtually every time I went up and down the stairs, and why they wanted to meet anyone who came to the house. And why they thought too much about the little details of my life and wanted to interfere with everything.

The morning after Draco's visit, Walburga waylaid me again. 'Harry, I understand that you have never had dance lessons.'

I nearly dropped my mug of coffee. I was too hungover for this conversation.

'You need to have lessons,' she continued.

I scowled. 'I'd rather battle a thousand Basilisks than dance in front of anyone again.'

'I'm afraid she's right,' said Sirius, though he was scowling, probably about having to agree to anything his mother said.

'I'm staying out of this,' mumbled Remus, when I looked at him for help.

'She is right, darling,' said my mum.

There was a general murmuring of agreement from the other portraits and I was definitely seriously regretting putting the gallery together.

Honestly, they were like naughty children.

'Even I agreed to lessons when I was young,' said Sirius. 'It does wonders when you can woo your ruggedly handsome, yet ever so cuddly, intended with your dance skills.'

He smirked slyly as he looked at Remus next to him.

'Oh gods. Too much,' I said, totally uncertain if he was referring to Remus or Draco.

'I quite agree,' said Walburga. 'Please don't push me too far, Sirius. I'm just about finding it in my heart to forgive you.'

'You haven't got a heart, Mother, it died long before you shuffled off this mortal coil,' said Sirius. 'Besides, it's the other way around, it's I who should be forgiving you and I haven't yet.'

'Siri...' admonished Regulus. 'We've been through this. You're too impetuous. You can calm down these days.'

'Hmph,' said Sirius. 'It's alright for you to say, Regie. She always adored you so it seems you're forgiven without second thought for going against old Volde. Whereas me...'

'Boys!' Walburga said with a tired voice. 'I've asked for your forgiveness, Sirius.'

'And Sirius has accepted your apology,' said Remus calmly.

'Or I will when you stop calling my boyfriend "The Werewolf".'

'I'm adjusting—'

'Adjusting doesn't need to mean insulting—'