A/N: Introducing a bunch of portraits we'll be seeing again sometime soon hopefully!

Title: a long time ago

Summary: Godric sets up the portraits at Hogwarts and remembers his time with Salazar.

Word count: 754

Genres: Angst

Characters: Godric G., Salazar S.

Time was slipping out of his grasp. Godric knew it it was. For a long time he had held it close to him, let himself master it, control it in ways that he wished, with the help of Rowena from time to time, for over 180 years. Time was running out and his time was coming.

He was putting up the portraits in the staircases, something he had promised he would do to Helga a long time ago. A quick Accio and then positioning the frame on a peg on the wall was a soothing routine. And it had been a some time since he had talked to his favourite portraits.

All the students were in bed, or were supposed to be, at least. There was a thunderstorm raging outside, lightning flashing and lighting up the eyes of the portraits and the gust of wind coming in from the outside were making the candles flicker.

It was winter too. He found it fitting that he was thinking about his time on Earth while it was the end of the day, the end of the year.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Godric," Sophia Buttermuch, famous witch who had died from experimenting with a little too many explosive powders, but now immortalised in a portrait, told him. "You look troubled."

"Yes, you're not thinking about that Slytherin boy again?" his own Auntie Griselda told him.

Godric snorted. It was strange to hear her call him "boy", when clearly he wasn't any more. Neither was Godric after all. Age was beating down on them, reducing their movements and saying things like "in my time". He levitated both portraits up in the air and hung them near the top of the stairwell.

It had been a long time since Salazar had left, and still it was bitter in Godric's hear. True, they had an infamous rivalry. True, his ideas on muggle-borns were awful. True, he was getting borderline dangerous in those last few years. But true, also, Godric had loved him (and still did, maybe).

"You miss him, don't you?" Jogn Le Pevry, another portrait in an absolutely stunning mahogany frame.

"Look, it's not like that," Godric assured him, lying to the two of them.

"You know, you can talk to us," Jogn told him.

Godric levitated him next to his Aunt Griselda, before sitting down on a chair to continue his job. His back was killing him.

He had never thought that Salazar would leave. Already, they had fallen out, but such a betrayal as to leave the work of their life had hurt all of them deeply, thought probably Godric the most. Since then, all that time ago, his world had seemed a little greyer, a little less colourful, though he hid it behind a good dose of humour and his love of teaching, and the occasional duel when he managed Rowena to have a go at him.

Cynthia The Sorceress looked up from her crystal when he accioed her to tell him: "You know, the world seems full of good people, even if there are monsters in it. There'll be others."

"At my age, Cynthia, I'll be a portrait before long."

"Well, I do know a couple of nice fellows."

Godric just rolled his eyes before placing her closer to the stairs, so that the students might talk to her. Cynthia might seem a little crazy on if you don't pay enough attention, but her cryptic words often ring true. If anyone ever works the courage to talk to her, they will not be disappointed.

He felt slightly nostalgic of the time before, when all was still good, when the school had only just been founded, and they were all still friends (or more), before his life had fallen apart.

"Psh, that Slytherin fella, he was just misunderstood," growled Uldred the Cruel.

Godric placed him efficiently and quickly and the very top of the stairwell where he was sure no one would ever talk to him. Salazar was many things, but misunderstood wasn't one of them. They had all clearly comprehended his hatred for Muggles.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of levitating portraits, all were hung and chattering quietly, creating a murmur in the castle. Godric locked back all the memories of Salazar. There would be another time for remembering. For the moment, he was going to go lie down in his bed, chat a little with his dear Sorting Hat and wait for the time to pass for him.

A/N: Submitted for a bunch of things at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments!)