Okay, I was just hit with a random thought: Why hasn't anyone done a fanfic on the Fat Lady? She's been there for a ton of important scenes, yet I have yet to see her story out there. So I decided to do one. If there is a fanfic out there like the one I just described, I apologize.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue me.

The Things She'd Seen

She had seen many things, it was true. Having been placed there when the houses were originally founded, she had seen many triumphs and tragedies.

Known as "The Fat Lady" ( a name she found rather offensive) to all, she came to be the Fat Lady, even as her true name faded out of existence.

She was rarely thought of twice, if even once.

Oh, she did have ways to keep occupied, what with coming up with passwords, and some of the other portraits were quite nice to visit. But, she wasn't satisfied.

She had heard too much, seen too much, and that information weighed heavily in her mind, begging to be released, to be told to another soul, to be let out into the world, where it might be known.

In the time of the founders, when the first ever group of Gryffindors came, she was nervous. Terrified, even. How would the students treat her? Would she be properly respected? Would any of the students try to talk to her?

But no. They had simply stated the first password of many," asphodel fertum," and walked in. The most acknowledgment she had gotten were a few nods of heads from the more polite ones.

She was crestfallen. After a while of realizing that this would never change, she rather reluctantly settled into her slow lifestyle.

Time passed by. Years trudged on as students went on their way, chatting about the latest news.

And she listened. Oh, she listened, for fear that if she were to stop, she would lose what little part of her being that longed to be considered more than just a portrait. After years of hearing history repeat itself, she wanted to shape history.

So she heard of the rise of Tom Riddle, of his followers, of the turmoil one man generated.

Things started happening, however, in the Marauder era.

Suddenly, she found herself being opened in the middle of the the night. That wasn't rare, for there was always a couple of lovebirds sneaking out for a romantic adventure, but this time, she couldn't see who was opening her. She was too startled to call out.

When she heard the current password being whispered, hours later, by an invisible someone, she asked, plucking up her courage, "Who are you?"

Total silence. Then, a voice said, "Who we are concerns you not, portrait. However, I assure you, we are Gryffindors."

So she had let them in. She had never told anyone, for what good would it do/ The perpetrators would be caught, and that would be it. No, she was curious, for the first time in many years.

She waited, and sure enough, a few days later, she was opened again by someone she couldn't see. This time, she did not question them.

As they entered the Common room, she barely caught the hurried whisper of, "-that was great, James-" and she had to smile.

Of course. James and the rest of the Marauders. She wasn't surprised. Some of the biggest troublemakers the school had ever seen, it was typical they would find a way to turn themselves invisible.

These nightly occurrences became common. The next few years went on rather normally, but one event always stuck out in her mind.

A 16 year old boy, a Slytherin, came to wait in front of me. He seemed anguished, and tormented by his thoughts.

Eventually, a girl came out, wrinkling her nose at the boy.

"We don't want your kind here, Snape. Especially after what you did to Lily."

Instantly, she knew who the boy was. The fact that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor had been dating had been huge. When noise of the breakup and what caused it got around, it spread like wildfire.

She found herself studying the boy in front of her, wondering why it was that she felt pity for him. She should have hated him for what he did, for the name he had called Lily. But the way he held himself, the way his eyes showed endless grief-all of it portrayed that the boy seemed to truly hate what he had done.

So, she watched as the redhead came out, and confronted him. She found herself longing to help him, to make Lily understand-for the boy was sorry, anyone could see it. Yet the girl, despite his begging, and all his regret, had too much pride. She refused him, a boy who clearly loved her more than anything else.

Stupid girl, the portrait thought to herself, the one thing holding him back from the life he deserves is redemption, and you deny him that, all in the name of pride.

But she could do nothing.

The redhead later married James Potter, a boy who would never truly understand her as Snape had.

She hated, right then, the fact that she had absolutely no control, no ability to reach out to others, to make them see the truth.

They were killed. They were killed by Tom Riddle, and pride. For she knew, perhaps Snape would have been able to protect her. To keep her from harm.

But no, Lily and James were dead, and all that was left was a little baby boy, Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived.

When he came, she was not surprised. He was the spitting image of James, with just Lily's eyes to show as a reminder of her. He was in Gryffindor. Of that she was not surprised.

He ignored her, just as students before him had. The boy went through school, and in those 6 years was more adventure and danger than in all of the past years put together.

Again, she was not surprised.

Dumbledore was killed, in the boy's sixth year. And she truly mourned for him, for he had been a great man.

And then, came that fateful. That day, when The-Boy-Who-Lived faced Voldemort, and won. The school rang with victory.

But while there was great joy, there was also terrible sadness. For while so many had survived, many had died. A few, like Fred Weasley, chose to stay there, as ghosts. Several of the more important and noteworthy chose to stay as portraits, where she learned of all the proper details of the Battle.

And The-Boy-Who-Lived? He completed his seventh year, became an auror, and married a redheaded woman much like Lily.

Then his children came to Hogwarts. James, much like his namesake, was a troublemaker: he carried on the Potter legacy.

All of this was stored inside her mind, waiting for just the right ear to reveal itself to.

so, when Harry's second son, Albus Severus, asked her about all that she had seen, she knew it was time.

She was ready.