Dilys Derwent had seen a lot of things happen from her portrait. She'd seen arguments, break-downs, break-ups, and job interviews. She'd watched the position of headmaster be changed and... And wars begin.
She had been there when Albus Dumbledore was merely a professor and had listened to him as he expressed concerns regarding Tom Riddle, a seemingly harmless and rather bright Slytherin.
She had listened via other portraits, and heard of the boy's extra curricular activities. She even named him as a suspect for the death of Myrtle, but it was merely a tragic accident, and who was going to listen to a dead witch? She was history.
"I'm still here," she'd hissed. But Dippet had ignored her, consulted the wizards, and left her to sulk. Albus had acknowledged her, but even he was unable to change the Headmaster's opinions.
She glared at the two men, before leaving her frame in what definitely was a huff.
It was years later that the same name was mentioned again, catching her attention from where she was knitting, and taking note of the men in the room. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. He was a talented boy, plenty of potential for the future, but his poor life choices had left him with very little and he was stuck in Albus' grasp.
She used to believe that the old man would be helpful; that he'd listen to her and deal with problems before they rose, or at the very latest, as soon as they did so. But he didn't. He relied on people who were young, who had their whole life ahead of them, and let things flow as they began, when he had information that could change the game.
Sometimes she found herself yearning for Dippet; he may have been old-fashioned and sexist, but at least he listened and dealt with things.
News came, one Halloween evening, and celebrations were thrown all over the castle; in Common Rooms, and portraits, and there were even a few brave souls who ventured out of their safe zone and into the corridors and classrooms for their parties.
Albus remained in his office, head cradled in his hands as he shed a few tears. She'd heard of the Potter family; Lily and James had caused quite the ruckus in their time at the school, and now their child was making headlines.
"I tried to warn you, Albus," she murmured. "But you would not listen."
"No," he agreed. "I wouldn't. Would I?"
She smiled apologetically, before settling down in her frame, struggling to find sleep. She wasn't going to celebrate the death of a murdering maniac when it meant that a little boy, not even out of diapers, was without a parent. It didn't feel right.
She managed to sleep with the sound of his crying in the background. Somehow.
She had a quiet ten years, with no reason to pester Albus about murdering maniacs or about people who were far too young to be sacrificing their life. They'd had a small argument when Sirius Black was arrested; she, protesting his conviction, whilst the all-knowing Headmaster deemed it okay for the man to be kept in Azkaban. Even when it was obvious to the pair of them,and other portraits, ghosts and teachers thought it was obvious that he was innocent.
"He isn't receiving his letters," Albus cursed, one day in July. "It's those damned muggles."
"Did I tell you not to send him there?" she asked. "Yes, I did," she answered for him. "Am I right again?"
He glared at her before flicking his wand and silently casting the cover over her portrait.
She gasped at his audacity before settling to glare at the back of the cover and finishing her book. There was no point heading to another portrait because he'd only cover that one as well. Besides, she wasn't that petty.
The next time her portrait was uncovered, was when the young 'hero' had been contacted and found via the oaf of a groundskeeper and he was on his way to Diagon Alley.
Dilys silently suspected that he'd be shutting her portrait multiple times in the future. She was right.
The first time came only months later when Albus decided to use Hogwarts as a house for the philosopher's stone. She had had many choice words to say over that particular scenario, and she'd ended up saying them to the back of a cover.
The next time was only a year later, when the basilisk was set free in the school. Obviously, at the time she didn't know what the creature was, but she was aware that not telling the parents of the petrified students was wrong. However, she wasn't headmistress anymore and her rules or opinions didn't matter. Or so she was told, before the cover went down over her canvas.
A year later, and yet again, the cover was flipped down when she tried to plead Sirius' innocence. Albus was only a little smug when she no reasoning for his attack on the Fat Lady or his success at breaking into the Gryffindor tower. She, in turn, was smug when Harry Potter revealed Sirius' innocence and the story was backed up by an injured Weasley and Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age.
Her portrait was covered every year by Albus Dumbledore, sometimes multiple times, until Albus never entered the room again.
She cried that day, even if they'd had their differences throughout his time as Headmaster. Now he was her neighbour and he pretended to sleep the whole time.
Severus' time ended, and when his portrait was added, she cried a little then, for he was far too young. Minerva's time began and finished with very little stress or arguments and then it was time for Hermione Granger's turn in the office.
Her moving in day proved to be considerably harder than anyone else's due to the lack of co-operation from the house elves.
"Can't say I'm too fond of house elves," Dilys commented, not really expecting a response since she was history. She'd become used to that fact over the years.
"My problem is that I'm too fond of them," Hermione replied, shocking Dilys. "I tried to free them when I was younger. But I didn't know better, and even though I do now they don't trust me."
"They will. One day," Dilys replied, and her words seemed to relax the new Headmistress.