Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges listed at the bottom.

Word Count: 2131

Fic Notes: HarryDraco, Muggle!AU

I Promise

Harry wasn't sure who he wanted to kill more; Hermione for making him come on her badly thought out festival trip, or Ron, for his horrendous music choices.

Either way, when they finally pulled to a stop in the space Hermione had gotten for them, Harry was the first out of the back of the van.

Ignoring the rest of the group, Harry erected his own tent and threw his bag inside. It being a two-man tent—and barely big enough for one man, if being honest—it hadn't taken long for him to get it upright.

He was about to sneak off and wander around the booths and food stands when Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist.

"Can you help the guys get the bigger tents up? They're a bit useless."

Harry glowered at her and she faltered slightly. Before she could say anything, he stepped away from her towards the group, where George was trying to read the directions upside down, and Blaise was trying to hit Draco with the mallet.

"Unless you all want to be sleeping on the grass, you should probably give me the instructions," he said, holding his hand out to George, who happily relinquished the booklet.

Harry sighed, and then set to directing them on getting the first of two tents up. It was going to be a long weekend.

…

Charlie looped his arm around Harry's shoulders and tugged him to the front of the group, the two of them walking a little faster, to get some semblance of privacy.

"I was surprised when Hermione told me you were coming," he admitted, as they meandered towards the food tents.

"I wasn't informed who else was going to be here," Harry admitted. "I thought it was just gonna be you redheads and me and Hermione."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Of course they didn't tell you. Idiots. Maybe they don't understand just how much you're still in love with him."

"I… yeah, maybe," Harry agreed. He'd thought about denying it for all of three seconds, but there was little point.

"Maybe you should talk to him. Get some answers," Charlie pointed out. "It might be easier to move on if he tells you why he broke up with you in the first place."

Harry just shook his head. "I can't. It hurts just knowing he's here. I don't want to actually have to deal with him as well. It's fine, it's just a weekend, right?"

Charlie nodded and then paused. "Are you seeing this?"

"I'm finding it hard to believe that I'm seeing it," Harry replied, tilting his head.

"What the hell is that?" Blaise asked, catching up with them.

Harry just shook his head. "Not sure. Should we go and find out?"

"Oh hell no," Blaise said, shaking his head as he nudged Harry's ribs. "Just because you've got more bravery than sense, doesn't mean I'm about to go anywhere near that."

"Does that say fried candy floss?" Ron asked, as the rest of the group caught up.

"Is that woman wearing a dress made of fried candy floss?" Hermione added.

"And a candy floss wig," Ginny pointed out.

"And she's inviting people to come and taste her," Bill said, pointing at the sign to the side of the woman that had them all confounded.

"I'm game," George said, bounding off in front of them, heading for the candy floss woman.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Harry clicked the video on. "I'm so glad I brought power banks. I'm going to have blackmail material for years."

…

By the time they were on their way back to the tents, Harry had eaten a questionable burger, consumed entirely too much sugar, and had been offered drugs three times.

The glory of festivals, he supposed, as they walked over the last field that separated them from their beds. There were a group of guys, clearly high as kites, just chilling in the grass, and Harry grinned at Charlie.

"Fully tempted to ask if they want to share," Charlie said, when he caught the grin on Harry's face.

Harry snorted.

They reached the tents, and Harry clambered into his own after calling goodnight to the group as a whole. Ron and Hermione had their own tent as well, but the others were split between the two bigger tents.

Harry didn't envy them.

He changed into sweatpants and a vest, and then put his ipad on, leaning it up against his bag. He listened to the others shuffling around in the next tent as he pressed play on the ipad.

Getting comfortable, he settled into one of the movie's he'd thought to download before the trip. He was asleep before the first hour was up.

…

Harry was one of the first up the next morning, which he was glad for because he lost his balance while putting his socks on and nearly fell face first into the mud.

By the time the others were up, he'd been and grabbed coffee and a bagel for himself, and was enjoying them in front of his tent.

"Did you bring a kettle?" Ron asked, when he saw Harry's coffee, and Harry chuckled at the hopeful look in his eyes.

"Yeah, mate, I just plugged it into my arse to make it work."

Ron grumbled under his breath about sarcasm being the lowest form of wit and stretched out. "You looking forward to the music later?"

Harry shrugged. None of the acts were really his cup of tea if he was honest, but he liked the general vibe of concerts, so he was looking forward to that if nothing else.

He was about to reply when the zip on the closest large tent opened and Draco stumbled out, turning to glare back inside when he righted himself. Harry saw Blaise' face poking through the opening and he had a shit eating grin on his face.

Harry snorted, and then turned his back to the tent. The last thing he needed to deal with was seeing Draco barely awake and unfairly adorable.

It was hard enough seeing him all put together and gorgeous in his jeans, but Harry had always had a weak spot for sleepy Draco.

"I'm never camping again," Draco complained, as the others began climbing out of the tent openings.

There was some good natured jeering from the Weasley's, who had all grown up camping, and even Blaise, who despite his rather privileged upbringing had been on a few trips in his youth himself.

"You're such a princess," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she joined them.

"I'm the fucking queen," Draco corrected primly.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to relax, but the peace was broken now and he couldn't pretend Draco wasn't right there.

"I'll do a coffee run," he offered. "You're all on flat white though, so if you want anything else, you can get it yourself."

"I'll come with you," Draco said, and Harry barely held in a groan.

"It's fine, I'm sure I can manage."

"I'm not drinking flat white," Draco said, wrinkling his nose. "I might be at a festival, and I might be camping, but I'm not allowing that crap into my mouth."

Harry snorted, he couldn't help himself. Draco was a snob in general, but his coffee snobbery knew no bounds. In the end, he shrugged, because he knew he'd look like an asshole if he kept telling Draco he couldn't come to the coffee stand.

…

The silence between them was uncomfortable. Occasionally, Draco would make a noise that seemed like an aborted attempt to start a conversation, but his words died before they made it past his lips.

"Say what you've got to say, Draco," Harry said eventually, when he couldn't take the tension any more.

Draco stopped walking, and Harry stopped as well, turning to look at him.

Draco seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, before he sighed. He reached out as if to touch Harry and then dropped his arm to his side.

"I miss you."

Harry blinked. "I…" He shook his head. "You broke up with me, Draco."

"I know. I do know that, Harry. I… my father asked me when I was planning to get married, and when I told him we had no plans he…" Draco paused. "Well, it wasn't pretty. He threatened to disinherit me if I didn't break up with you and find a wife."

The thought that his father had something to do with it had crossed Harry's mind, but he'd thought they were strong enough—that they loved each other enough—to stand against the man.

He'd discarded the idea that Draco wouldn't even talk to him about it.

"I freaked out," Draco continued softly. "Like, a lot. And I broke up with you, and I went home to the manor and sulked for a week, and then…"

"I don't want to hear about you finding a wife, Draco," Harry interrupted, turning away."

"Harry," Draco said, pleading. "Harry, I didn't find a wife, are you mad? I packed up my shit, left my father a note disinheriting myself, and I moved in with Blaise. I've been trying to get the balls to come and talk to you but…" he shook his head. "I thought maybe, if we were together during this trip, I could talk to you and maybe show you that I'm an idiot, I messed up, but… but I love you, and nothing is worth more than that."

Harry listened to Draco with his back turned, and he was grateful for that as he was hit with a whirlwind of different emotions that he imagined were doing interesting things to his expression.

There was relief and love and sadness and happiness and anger and a whole host of others that he couldn't even identify.

He turned to look at Draco, who was watching him with guarded hope, and opened his mouth to reply, only to realise he didn't know what to say.

"We should go and get the coffee."

…

Harry was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. They'd spent the whole day dancing and jumping in the crowds at the stage, and eating food he was definitely going to be regretting when he got home, and he'd avoided Draco like the plague, but despite how bone tired he was, Harry just couldn't switch his mind off.

It was a hot night, which wasn't helping, and he gave up trying to get cool in the tent, unzipping it. He clipped the flaps to the side, and turned around, so he was lying with his head close to the fresh air.

There was a breeze, and he closed his eyes to enjoy it as it brushed over his heated skin.

"Are you okay?"

Blinking his eyes open, he saw Draco sitting on one of the chairs they'd left outside the tents.

"Too hot, can't sleep," Harry replied, closing his eyes again. He could hear Draco shifting behind him, but he didn't realise he'd approached until gentle hands started sifting through his hair.

He opened his eyes again to see Draco sitting just outside the tent, his legs crossed in front of him.

"You don't have to do this," Harry murmured, not attempting to get away from Draco's hands.

"It helps you sleep," Draco replied softly. "I've been worried about you not sleeping."

Harry wanted to snap that he'd been sleeping fine, but it would have been a lie, and Draco had never had a problem knowing when Harry was lying.

"You know I don't need a lot of sleep to function," he said instead, which was true enough. He'd had plenty of practice at insomnia after all.

"I know," Draco agreed. "But I also know how much it drags you down when you don't sleep properly."

Again, Harry couldn't disagree. He let himself drift a little, Draco's hands lulling him into a doze. When he opened his eyes, it was to see Draco watching him with such a heartbreaking look in his eyes, it almost took Harry's breath away.

"We can't go back," Harry said, biting at his bottom lip.

Draco swallowed hard and whispered, "I understand." He shifted, as though he was going to get up. Harry reached out a hand to gently grab his wrist.

"But that doesn't mean that we can't go forward."

Draco paused, staring at him.

Harry ploughed on. "I love you. And I miss you. And it fucking hurts to think of you anywhere but with me. I think that's probably worth forgiving you for being an idiot."

"You promise?" Draco asked, like he thought Harry was just going to tug away his offer in the next breath.

Instead, Harry tugged him into the tent with the wrist he was still holding. "I promise."

Written For:

Angel's Archive: 2. Draco Malfoy

Cherry Pairs: 12. Draco Malfoy / 29. Going Camping

Valentines or Palentines: Day 11: HarryDraco

Hot Tea Month: 18. Raspberry Leaf: Draco Malfoy

365: 186. Balance

Musical Yearly: 194. My Eyes: I cannot believe my eyes

Insane House: 468. HarryDraco