A picture is worth a thousand words. That was what Grandpa Arthur told Al when he gave him a camera for his seventh birthday. Al has a box of pictures he keeps to remind him of this.
The first picture is titled terror. Fright, pain, and worry also fit. His sister Lily is crouched in the corner, a thumb in her mouth and a doll in her arms, her eyes wide. His father lies on a hospital bed, an Auror award for injury in the line of duty is placed above his head. His mother sits at the bedside, her face trembling as she holds back tears, one hand clasped around her husband's.
The second picture is titled sadness. Grief, despondency, and loneliness also fit. His Uncle Ron stands next to the coffin, his gaze on his grandmother's still face. His Grandpa Arthur sits in his wheelchair, his mind and his wife both lost to old age; he looks around as though missing something. His Uncle George stares at the next grave over, his hand on his missing ear and his lips murmuring "Fred" as the tears roll down his cheeks.
The third picture is titled anxiety. Apprehension, fretfulness, and concern also fit. He stands on the emptying platform, not quite ready to board the imposing train for the first time. His mother wrings her hands and checks to make sure all of his bags made it on the train. His father looks down at him, eyes soft, and offers him a hug, stepping forward with a slight limp.
The fourth picture is titled kindness. Cruelty, sympathy, and compassion also fit. His Slytherin attackers stand before him, fists up and wands out, ready to destroy the son of the Chosen One. His new friend Scorpius stands between them, blood dripping from his nose, wand out and aimed. His cousin Rose is on the ground next to him, casting her newly learned healing spells on his blackened eye and cut lip.
The fifth picture is titled curiosity. Attraction, passion, and shock also fit. His best friend is grinning, blue eyes sparkling and chest heaving as he pulls back from an involved kiss. His cousin Dom is splayed up against the wall, lips glistening with spit and trousers tight against his hard-on. His own finger is visible in the corner of the picture, as he had almost dropped the camera when he realized who he was watching.
The sixth picture is titled lust. Hunger, desire, and obliviousness also fit. His boyfriend is devouring an ice pop on the night of the Leaving Feast, sliding it in and out of his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He sits with a fork full of food lifted into the air and his gaze on Scorpius, his tongue lightly moistening his lips as he watches. His sister sits between them, eating her treacle tart and discussing eye shadow colors with Rose across the table.
The seventh picture is titled joy. Delight, rapture, and bliss also fit. His new dog is running across the lawn, kept from escaping by a white picket fence. He stands at the foot of the stairs to the porch, a wide grin on his face as he observes the house and its surrounds. His partner flicks a lock of blonde hair from his eyes and then gazes at Al, a gentle smile on his face and his heart on his sleeve.
Al doesn't know how many words each picture is really worth, but every time he looks at them he discovers a new one.