Can we just imagine for a moment Draco finding a muggle camera and wanting to take every picture he can because “Harry they don’t move!”. Harry would be so amused watching Draco take photos.
Until its early in the morning, and Draco is standing above him, snapping away. And Harry would be slightly annoyed, but not really, because it’s Draco and watching his whole face light up from this is everything Harry could ever want.
So he covers his face, and hides his smile. He’ll kiss him later, whisper how much he loves him, and watch the soft blush creep up Draco’s pale skin.
And Draco, well, he wants to remember this. He needs to have this moment forever: Harry soft, and sleepy, still tangled in their sheets. The memories of the night before slip between the photo, and Draco just wants to crawl into Harry’s arms again and stay there.
He saves the photos in a small book, each with a little note, or poem, or memory. He keeps the book hidden away.
But sometimes on the days when Harry needs it the most, when the past stalks back and drags him away, then Draco will take out the book and remind Harry; remind the green-eyed man how much he loves him; kiss away his tears, and hold him close. They’ll flip through the pages, soft laughter filling the room as the good moments come back again.
But for now the morning sun is streaming in, and Draco cannot help but take another photo.