Walk Through a Photo Album

Silverwind Kitsune

"You practically live in that thing, Harry."

"I like remembering."

The photo album is flipped open, the heavy cover falling with a thump to his knee. The first page is a dedication: To my lion of a housecat, from your conniving snake. He runs a thumb over it.


"Well… you like being at home."

"And you are a conniving little snake."

"Straight into your bed."

"Funny, Draco."

He flips to the first page, where the Slytherin and Gryffindor crests stand at opposite corners and a photo is pasted to the page. Here is a picture of Harry and Draco in their second year, brooms crossed behind them and hands clasped in the air around a shared Snitch. He taps this one.

"Remember that?"

"You threw yourself off your broom to get it, wanker."

"I remember wrestling you to the ground and making you eat grass."

"Hooch loved that."

"First utter tie in the history of Hogwarts."

"We were so special."

They turn to the next page together this time. On the left face is a photograph of Harry, Draco and Theodore Nott, their arms slung companionably across each other's shoulders. The next is a photograph of Harry, Draco and Ron. Harry hangs by his legs from the branch of a tree, while Ron sits in its fork, his legs dangling. Draco appears to be scolding the both of them, or perhaps swearing at them because he is still on the ground.


"I beg your pardon?"

"Wouldn't even climb a damn tree."

"Well, you were a right clever arse, hanging out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I could've hexed you, broke your clever neck."

"And then cried."

Harry flips the page again, met with a photo of Harry and Draco studying on a four-poster, this time in third or maybe fourth year. Draco leans over and kisses Harry, but Harry spies the photographer and shoves Draco, straight off the bed. Harry laughs.


"Well, you shocked me."


"Damn gobsmacked, I was."


"Well it was the first time you kissed me, you prat. And then Pansy, with her damn camera."

"I loved that camera."

The facing photo is a wideshot. Harry cannonballs into the lake, followed by Ron and Theodore, windmilling their arms. Draco stands on the dock shouting until Pansy pushes him in, and then she laughs alongside Hermione and Ginny, until the twins rush at them, herding them into the water, and leap in after them.

"That was a good weekend."

"Fucking brilliant."

"Remember when the squid…"

"Molested Theo?"

"God he screamed."

"Like a bloody girl."

"Twins never let him live that down."

The next page is an interesting photo, which turns Harry red. The room is covered in Christmas decorations and all the paraphernalia of a party. Harry clasps a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand, but otherwise, he, Draco and Pansy are clad in nothing but their skivvies, Pansy pressed between the two boys as they dance. Harry watches with some interest as Pansy leans back, throwing her head over Harry's shoulder. Fourteen year-old Draco is almost a foot and a half taller than the two of them.

"That was an interesting night."

"First encounter of the female kind."

"Only encounter."

"Why were you so obsessed with her breasts?"

"They were… squishy."


"Well, you're not squishy. You're pointy."

"I've sharp bones, thanks very much."

"I like them better."

The picture facing it is that of the next day, the three of them in a pile on the common room floor; Harry's bottle shielding his eyes from the glare of the camera, Draco trying to tuck himself back into his pants, and Pansy desperately trying to wave the photographer away as she vainly attempts to cover her breasts with her hand. Draco laughs, turning the page. Now there is a photo of Draco and Harry squished together between Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Sirius and Remus press them closer together despite their protests, and suddenly the adults are kissing over the teenagers, while Harry and Draco are oblivious, falling out of the photo frame as they grope each other.

"Now that was funny."

"They really didn't believe it, did they?"

"Merlin, no. Sirius was positive James would raise a perfectly straight son."

"Considering his company, you think he'd realise otherwise."

"Yeah, well. The looks on their faces…"


"Like Mastercard."


Harry shakes his head, jabbing his finger at the next photo. This one is of the girls: Pansy, Ginny and Hermione. They stand side by side in their school uniforms, swinging their hips in time and gradually stripping. The ties come off in three different ways: left open and loose around the neck, flung to the side, and tied around the head, respectively. Their cardigans are dropped on the floor and Pansy throws back her head to laugh as she unbuttons her blouse, which sets Ginny sniggering and Hermione bright red. A fist flashes across the extreme front of the photo, urging them on.

"I loved that dare."

"Why? Boobies?"

"The look on Hermione's face."

"And Ron's."

"I thought he'd come in his pants."

"It was truly excellent how he bundled her away before she got her bra off."

"And practically eating her face."

The next page is a photo of a huge gang gathered around a table in the Slytherin common room. Pansy flashes a winning hand of cards and Harry throws his hand into the air dramatically. One lands in Draco's hair, another down Ginny's shirt. Draco is set upon by Harry- the others protest halfheartedly, with jokingly disgusted faces on- and Theodore fishes the card out of Ginny's shirt. She grins at him, and he blushes to the roots of his messy black hair.

"That was the day."

"What day?"

"The day Ginny finally stopped bugging me."

"That's the day our darling Theo won her heart?"


"By reaching down her shirt?"


"You think it would be easier for guys to get girls, then."

The next photo is taken from an awkward angle, as if it is Harry holding the camera. Draco's knees are against his chest, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie loose, grasped in Harry's free hand as Harry- in a similar state of undress- slams into him. Harry chuckles.

"You are sex on legs."

"So I've been told."

"Love this photo."

"It wasn't the first time, though."

"No, but it's easy to remember the first, looking at it."

The facing picture is of the boys the day after, snuggled up together in Harry's bed in post-coital bliss. Draco's tie is still twined in Harry's fingers as Harry snores against the back of his neck, one leg thrown possessively over Draco's hip. The sheets barely cover them.

"You're so cute when you sleep."

"Moving on!"

The page is flipped, and Draco groans as he's met with another picture of him sleeping, this time on the floor before the fireplace with a large black dog curled up against his chest. Harry's head and arm are visible, slung over the sofa, and Pansy's slim legs can be seen on the opposite side, tangled with the dark legs of Blaise Zabini.

"Still cute."

"Not cute. Sexy, gorgeous, and stunning are acceptable. Cute is not."

"But you are."

"Kittens are cute. I am not a kitten. You are."

"I thought I was your lion. Oh, Merlin, just like that, you bloody king of the jungle-"


"-You fucking predator. Right there, right there. Fuck me, my lion."

"I deny that ever happening."

The opposite photo is kinder. After the last Quidditch match of the year in the locker rooms, Harry runs and leaps about like a madman, throwing his Snitch in the air, playing an easy game of Fetch with Draco. The girls barge into the room- several of the other team members bellow and try to hide- and a half-naked Ron sweeps Hermione into the air. Pansy seems to wonder where Ginny and Theo- the back-up Seekers- have gone, and then points and squeals as they are temporarily visible, smashed against the wall, Ginny's legs around Theo's waist. Ron almost drops Hermione.

"That was brilliant."


"Great way to lose one's virginity."

"They didn't even fly in the game, just around it."

"Still, flying is an aphrodisiac, didn't you know?"

"Really? Maybe we should do it more often."

The next two pages boast photographs of Harry and Draco with their parents, along with Sirius, Remus and Severus Snape. There's a tense air in the photograph that dissolves into hysteria the moment Draco and Harry kiss. Severus begins to shout and Sirius shouts back before pulling Remus into an unexpected embrace. James goes pale and hides behind Lily, and Lucius Malfoy's eyes go wide. His wife merely hides a smile behind her hand, sharing a look with Lily that clearly says, Boys will be boys. The other is calmer.

"Our parents thought we were insane."

"Or hexed."

"Imperioused, even."

"Bah. I never understood it. You're bloody fit."

"And short, and messy, and my eyes don't work."

"So? I love your eyes."


"They're piercing. And they wiggle when you're not wearing your glasses."

The next photographs are of Draco in the lion's den, looking shocked as Seamus Finnigan dumps a bottle of Firewhiskey over his head and laughs. Dean Thomas sits curled up in an armchair, a sketchpad balanced on his knees, and Ron and Hermione dance, spinning each other in lazy circles. The twins, undoubtedly scheming, stop for a moment to laugh at a soaked and spluttering Draco.


"He was having fun."

"By dumping Firewhiskey on me? You think he'd have the presence of mind to drink it."

"He had. His mind wasn't exactly present."


Facing this is Draco, his hair plastered to his forehead by rain or shower, lashed to the posts of Harry's bed, pleading with Harry to untie him. The photo Harry smirks at the camera before crawling into the bed and drawing the curtains shut.

"You never did untie me."

"You liked it."

"I neither deny nor agree with this accusation."

"Your cock agreed."


"It still does."


"Only if you ask nicely."

The next page has photos of older teens, sixteen or seventeen at most. In the first Harry has caught up to Draco's shoulder, but he is filling out into more of a Beater-build, while Draco is still tall and willowy. Ron, on the other side, stands not two inches shorter than Ron and has Harry's breadth of shoulder. He looks incredibly smug next to Theodore, whose height is somewhere between his and Harry's and is rather lean.

"You know, if Ron had blond hair, we could flip this photo down the middle and it would look the same."


"You know what I mean."

"That you channel Theo, and Ron is as dashing as me?"

"Er… no."


"Forget it."

Another Quidditch match, this time on the field. Harry and Draco almost run into each other to catch the Snitch, and end up on the ground, once more wrestling for supremacy. Somehow the Snitch gets away, but they don't stop wrestling. Hooch has to levitate Draco bodily off of Harry, their robes grass-stained, to get them to stop snogging in the middle of the game.

"Ah, the good old days."

"I think we became well-acquainted with Hooch's disgusted faces."


Next, the long tables in the Great Hall take up most of the photo, but no one is sitting where they should be. Gryffindors mingle with Ravenclaws mingle with Slytherins mingle with Hufflepuffs. One end of the Gryffindor table is utterly deserted as a pair of Ravenclaws defile the poor thing. However, at the Slytherin table, people have actually gathered around to cheer Harry and Draco on as they stand up and flourish their wands, a childish duel. Somehow, like many of the other photographs, they end up snogging on the table.

"You never stopped."

"Not like you wanted me to."

"Sometimes things needed to be serious."

"Oh, yes. Like fake duels."

"Harry, you know what I mean."

"You like my insatiable libido."

"I can't argue."

On the school grounds, Harry and Draco lay side by side on a hill, staring up into the sky. Harry has a hand behind his head and one on his stomach, and Draco lies with both of his splayed out to the side. They talk.

"Remember that?"

"That was the day we talked about after Hogwarts."

"What would happen, right."

"Well, the team fucked that up."

"Sure did, but we were being serious. See?"

"Yeah, yeah."

On the next page they are back to the pitch, and Draco and Harry have once again caused an improbable tie, the Snitch clutched forcefully in their entwined hands. In the stands are spotters for the professional teams. It was after this game that they were both invited to play with the Edinburgh Eagles.

"Thomas totally trumped our plans."

"But he kept us together."

"I'd kiss him for that, but you're prettier."

"Of course I am."

Opposite this is a photo of the two of them, sitting in the same tree as in an earlier photo. Draco is actually up there with Harry, who isn't hanging by his legs, and they look into the night sky, tracing constellations, their hands clasped together firmly.

"I love this picture."


"It's so us."


"We're made of cheese."

"Correction: you're made of cheese."

"You do so love the stars."

"The night is beautiful."

"So are you."

The next page is the last. The first picture is of Harry and Draco, finally adults, kissing under Christmas mistletoe. The next, a motley assortment of animals: an osprey, a hooded crow, an otter and a mink, a black swan, a Diamondback rattlesnake, a Garter snake, a King vulture, an Irish setter, a curly-coated Schnauzer, and a pair of mockingbirds. Harry runs his thumb across this picture again.

"We should get together again."

"With the gang?"

"Yeah. Sans kids."

"So French, Harry."


"You're right. It's been a while."

"Go out, get pissed-"

"Play some Fetch, dance a little-"

"Break some cameras-"

"Live like the crazy teenagers we all still are."

"I miss the good old days."

"I thought that was why you liked to remember them?"

"It is."

The album is closed.

-- -- --

My first upload ever. Be gentle. This began as part of another one-shot I'm writing, but it quickly became too big (after only two photos, no less) so I decided to cut it out and make it it's own upload. Er, an exercise in dialogue, you could say, because I blow at dialogue. Really and truly. The story it was originally part of will make its way up here soon, its working title is "What If, Yesterday..."