James Potter. Eleven-year-old son of the rich and influential Harold and Marilyn Potter. He was and had anything and everything that anyone could ever want. Good looks, intelligence, money, power, famous name, love, charm, courage and the sports gene. Everyone and admired him and he admired himself. Who wouldn't? He was THE James Potter. He wasn't selfish, exactly. Well, not in the material sense. He gave or spent hundreds of galleons to and on those he cared about. And yes, he did care about others. A lot. James loved people, he really did. People of all sorts. He didn't care about your blood status, unless you were the type to flaunt it. He didn't care about your wealth or even a lack thereof, unless you were the type to donate it to Saint Mungo's so that they would build a 'Purebloods Only' wing. He didn't even care about your beliefs, unless you believed in the extermination of muggle-borns and the like. He loved everyone unless they had something that he wanted or were a part of the whole Slytherin-is-the-best-and-mudbloods-suck shindig.

Sirius Orion Black. Eleven-year-old rebel. White sheep of the Black family and fierce Gryffindor supporter, he despised everything in green and silver. He inherited the high cheekbones, piercing grey eyes and black hair of his family. His decidedly sadistic attitude towards Slytherins was an interesting trait. On the one hand, his prejudice and and his actions are very Slytherin, yet his boldness in the execusion of his actions was so very Gryfindor. He was brave, to the point where it could be called recklessnes. He was self-centered the way that James was. He already had money and could buy pretty much anything he wanted so why would he want more. He wasn't greedy, but he was arrogant in the extreme. Or at least he acted that way. Perhaps he was just insecure, misunderstood, eager to put on a brave front to the world. Or maybe not. Maybe he took too much pride in his beater skills and his excellent grasp of advanced magic at such a young age. Almost definately.