"These are good Dray. Fantastic even. Can I mount it?"
"Of Course you can Harry. I painted it for you"
A comfortable silence envelops them as they look out over the battlements of Hogwarts.
"Hey Dray?"
"Yes Harry?"
"If I die in this final battle but kill mouldy in the process could you do something for me?"
"What Harry?"
"Paint me a new world Dray. Just for me and hang it in your living room to remember me"
"..." He looks uncomfortable for a second.
"Dray?"
"Sure harry, sure."
It had been almost 8 months to the day and the wizarding world had just got back on its feet after Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort in a battle to the death at Hogwarts. Everyone had celebrated, parties were thrown, feasts held in honour, but one young man had turned away from all this merriment to do the deed his best frie- no his boyfriend had given him before he died.
Yes, Draco Malfoy was a painter. Had been all his life, it just took someone's expert guidance to show him what it really meant to paint and draw. He smiled as he remembered,
"Come on Dray, surely it's not that bad."
"I'm sure it is Harry, now step off" A playful poke was issued to the black haired boy's forehead.
Said boy pouted, "Fine Dray, see if I give you some of this chocolate I bought"
He smugly unwrapped it and was just about to bite down on it when,
"Fine. Fine. Damn you and your chocolate, it always beats me" The platinum blonde had a defeated look on his face, he blew a few stray bangs out of his face and pulled the sketch pad over to him and the other boy.
They curled up on the fireplace and looked at pictures till they fell asleep, holding one another.
Draco still loved that memory. His unfinished work was still in front of him and he turned back to it now. Something was missing, something vital which didn't seem to make the painting live. He looked over it, saw the green fields of children playing and the happy smiles of people milling in diagon alley, at the forefront there was Hermione and himself the leaders of the two worlds, Pure and Muggle bloods. The term mud blood had been disbanded as it had racial supremacy connotations and as such no place in the new world. Suddenly, it clicked for Draco. He grabbed his wand and erased the paint of him with his arms crossed looking powerful yet approachable and instead set about painting. He painted for so long he fell asleep in the chair he usually thought about ideas in. This was how Hermione found him later.
She shook him awake, "Draco, I think it's dry and ready to hang up. Oh my, it's beautiful."
Draco smiled faintly as she saw the three of them, Draco on the left with his arm possessively around The Black haired, emerald eyed boy and her hugging him enthusiastically. The boy in the middle was the most detailed however, his crinkles in his eyes like he was laughing at a joke long past and his arm was around Draco's waist like an anaconda seizing what's his. His smile, carefree and joyous was one Draco had only seen in the air and after a 'session'. Draco looked up at Hermione and asked,
"D'you think he'd like it?"
"He'd love it Draco. Just like he loved all your paintings, and you."
Draco took it and placed it above the mantelpiece where he kept the sketch of Harry he had drawn when they first started going out. Harry had been insistent on the sketch but couldn't stay still for five seconds. He smiled and said,
"There you go Har. I've painted your new world."
He looked outside at the children playing and felt a tear creep down his cheek for the man he still loved.
In a whisper he finished,
"Just for you"
A/N: Damn, this came to me at like 11PM at night. Gah, it popped into my head after reading some Drarry fanfics. Still, I enjoyed making this and who knows, maybe this is my cue to be writing some more. Please review as I do get a lot out of your comments. No, really I do. Plus, my muse Davian gets kicks so it's all good for you guys!