photographs.

0.1

listened to song attached while writing this.
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Harry lay in his make-shift bed on Ron's bedroom floor, listening to his best friend's rumbling snores. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes wouldn't stay shut, his mind wouldn't drift off into a deep sleep.
He, Ron and Hermione had attended thirteen funerals so far that summer, the summer after The Great Battle of Hogwarts. It had, obviously, been a very emotional month and a half. Harry nearly lost it a Colin Creevey's funeral, remembering all the times he had lost his patience with the boy.
With all that emotional weight, and constant nightmares from the war, Harry couldn't even imagine how people could sleep at night. Harry sighed and put on his glasses, giving up any feeble attempt at sleep. He sat up stretching, popping almost every bone in his body. Creeping to the door, careful not to wake Ron, he swiftly left the bedroom.
The landing was, as Harry had assumed, deserted. Deciding that Mr and Mrs Weasley wouldn't mind if he looked through family memories, Harry stealthily slipped into the spare room where many old family heirlooms, photographs, and items had been placed for storage.
Harry skimmed through a photo album, grinning when he saw a lanky, red headed two year old that was now his best friend. He picked his way through many interesting things, like old Quidditch robes and books, wedding photos and gifts, and baby clothes.
Harry stopped when he came across a dusty wizard camera. It looked very old, but seemed to be in OK condition. He peeked in the box that the camera had been in, and found it to be full of spare film for the small contraption. Carefully setting the camera on top of the film, he set off to Ron's room once more, deciding to ask Mrs Weasley if he could possibly use the camera this year. Harry removed his glasses, and got comfortable under his many blankets. With one last yawn and distant thought of the camera, he drifted into an almost peaceful sleep.
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"Mrs Weasley?" Harry said over his eggs and sausage the next morning. Molly Weasley looked up at Harry with an expression of polite interest, so he continued. "Last night I couldn't sleep well, so I went walking around the house and found this old camera. I was wondering if you still use it?" He asked, holding up the sleek black device. Harry had cleaned it when he woke up.
"Oh, that old thing? Haven't used it in ages, Harry dear. I'm not even sure if it works any-"
"It does, I tested it out this morning, I hope you don't mind." Harry gave Mrs Weasley a small smile.
"Well, if you like it, it's yours dear." Mrs Weasley patted Harry's hand and began cooking up some bacon. Smiling to himself, Harry shovelled down the rest of his food and watched Ron, Hermione and Ginny stomp down the stairs. Ginny gave Harry a swift peck on the cheek, and he barely registered the lack of usual butterflies that accompanied that type of contact with the youngest Weasley.
"What's that you've got, Harry?" She asked, fingers dancing over the camera beside Harry's plate. "Ooohh, a camera! Let's take a picture!"
And before Harry could respond, she was snapping a photo of the two of them. A few seconds later, a palm sized, Polaroid-style picture slid out of the camera, revealing Ginny's dazzling smile and Harry, with his nose scrunched up and one eye closed. Since it was in fact a wizards camera, picture Harry blinked slowly and sneezed, whisk picture Ginny pursed her lips in a kissing style, crossing her eyes.
"I love it! We'll have to take so many pictures together Harry, they'll come in handy, y'know. In the future and such." Ginny gave Harry a sly grin that made him feel as thought Ginny knew something he didn't. Utterly bewildered, Harry finished off his toast and leant back in his chair.
"George stopping by today?" Ron asked, helping himself to some bacon.
"Oh, no...I expect he's, er, he's busy with the shop, business is still going you know..." Mrs Weasley said weakly. The rest of the group nodded, though they knew George would most likely be holed up in the apartment above his shop, staring at the wall. That's all he'd really been doing, after Fred's passing. But nobody said anything, for they had all just barely accepted the fact that the other half to the dynamic duo was gone.
An awkward silence had fallen over the Weasley's kitchen, so Harry excused himself, saying he needed to use the washroom.
In two weeks time, himself, Ron and Hermione would be returning to Hogwarts for their 8th and final year. Harry had come up with the idea to record his last year at the historic school in photographs, using the old/new camera he had gotten from the spare room.
Harry was going to enjoy this year, and he felt, somewhere deep in his gut, that this year things would be very different.
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so that's the first chappie. i hope you guys enjoyed.