Fic: Picture Books (H/D, PG)
Title: Picture Books
Author: A Secret
Recipient: midnight_birth
Fandom/Pairing: Harry Potter – Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Author's Note: A short story about Harry/Draco post-book seven but not the "nineteen years later" part. I hope that you will enjoy it, midnight_birth!


Hermione pushed a graying and as always unruly lock of hair out of his eyes and tutted softly. "Come on, Harry, Mrs. Weasley will be disappointed if we're late for Christmas dinner."

Harry sighed deeply, yet as quietly as he could, his eyes not shifting from the picture of his mother and father dancing circles and smiling without care. Ron tugged on Hermione's arm and gave her a slightly irritated groan. "Leave him alone Hermione, he'll be along shortly."

Hermione looked at Harry, shook her head slowly, sighed to herself, and then nodded at Ron. "All right," she resigned.

"We'll meet you there, Harry," said Ron, smiling sadly and putting one hand on his old friend's shoulder.

"Huh, what?" Harry looked up and surveyed their concerned faces. "Oh, yeah, I'll be along in a bit," he muttered, nodding.

A silent tear rolled down Hermione's cheek as Ron gave her one last tug and pulled her out of the room.

"I'm just worried about him, that's all," she mumbled as they left. "All he does is stare at those books, stacks and stacks, volumes and volumes of pictures."

"I know," said Ron, glancing over his shoulder as they left. "Me too," he agreed with one last shake of the head.

Harry watched them close the door and chuckled softly. "Nothing changes," he said, going back to his books. Harry lay off the one he'd been studying and looked up at the clock. He had time enough for one more, he was sure of it. Besides, no one would miss him . . . really.

"Oh, not again, you and those books. Really, Potter, this has become a rather annoying habit with you."

Harry smiled softly at the sound of his drawling voice. Then he tried his hardest to find a scowl. "You're the annoying habit, Malfoy," he countered, turning the page on the large green leather photo album he had just opened. He pointed to a photo and wrinkled his nose. "And to think I allowed them to take this picture, even wanted it."

"Bah," said Draco leaning over Harry's shoulder and admiring the young pair posing under a larger cedar tree. "You look pale, but I look rather handsome."

Harry stifled the chuckle he found and turned to greet his companion. "You're late."

"I'm late? I'm not the one who is sitting in his best robes lost in dusty old photo albums and an old Gryffindor's memories," snarled Draco.

"I should kick you out," bit Harry.

"You should kiss me before I change my mind and decide not to go with you tonight," answered Draco with a smirk. "Too many Weasleys and all."

Harry considered his face, his eyes, and then his lips, and decided that he was right. "Well, I suppose, but then we are going to be late."

It was Draco's turn to stifle a chuckle. Harry pushed to his feet and kissed him. After a moment, he pulled back, and stared into Draco's eyes.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

Harry shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Why did you have to go?"

Draco stepped back and turned toward the window. Harry reached out and grabbed toward him, but even wizarding photos can't answer questions.

Harry watched himself in drape one arm around Draco in the picture as the middle aged Malfoy fanned protest. He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat again and closed the album. The clock was chiming the hour; Ron and Hermione would be irritated at him if he was too late. This managed to bring a smile to his face. He was never late when Draco was around. "Malfoys are never late, unless we do it on purpose."

He really should get up; he really should be on his way. Maybe just one more album.

~

"I knew it's where we would find him but . ." Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks as she pushed her head into Ron's shoulder.

"I really didn't think much about it when he was late, but when he didn't show at all..." added Ron. He pulled Hermione closer as he talked to the man in the white robes.

"It doesn't look as though he suffered," said the man, pulling the blanket over Harry's face. "In fact, he looked rather content." He turned around and picked up the album that lay on the chair he had been sitting in. "This was in his hands."

Ron took the album from the man and smiled. "Thank you."

Hermione leaned back and they both looked at the picture. There was Harry, under the cedar tree, laughing and waving happily with Draco.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Hermione nodded.