No One's Secret To Keep


By darkmosmordreheart

General Summary: D/H. What they have is not a secret, but what they feel is. 7th year.

Summary of This Chapter: Wedding bells, Rita smells, Draco is still pregnant!

Warning: slash, sex, language, all that good stuff.

Disclaimer: Amazing as it seems, I am not J.K. Rowling and my genius mind did not invent the characters of Harry Potter. Sorry to anyone who believed I did. I know, I know, it seems so logical . . .

Author's Note: This chapter includes a sex scene that is super enhanced by the most wonderful song on the planet, my favorite song, Ne-Yo's Say It. Every line that Harry says during said sex scene is from the song cuz it's so freakin' hot . . . Listen to it! -DMH


Chapter Nine

"Draco, please don't cry again!"

"I'm not crying," the blond sobbed into his fiancé's chest. "I just-I just-I just--"

"You're just crying," Harry corrected, stroking his fingers slowly through the other's soft, silky hair. They were sitting in the middle of the busy Gryffindor common room and, surprisingly, no one said a word to the cuddling couple. They only glared. "Tell me what's wrong, Draco."

"What's wrong?!" the Slytherin suddenly snapped, yanking himself from the other's arms and rising from the couch they lay across. "What's wrong, Potter, you potent, petulant, pretentious prole?!" At the insult, every eye that might not have been on Draco was now on Draco. "How could you even ask that, you bastard whore?!"

Harry stood; only to be knocked down a moment later by the force of Draco's right hook. The blond stormed from the room and all was quiet for a moment until Ron said, "I knew you shouldn't have brung a Slytherin in the Gryffindor common. Bad luck, that is."


Harry found his fiancé brooding under a tall tree overlooking the lake. The blond looked up when he came closer, but said nothing, quietly allowing the other to sit. He clutched both hands tightly in his lap and stared out into the glittering water.

"It's a bit chilly out, hmm?" the brunet sighed, turning towards the lake as well. He saw the nod out the corner of his eye and was relieved just to have gotten an answer. "How are you feeling?"

"Chilly." Harry laughed and took the cloak from his back and wrapped it around the other's shoulders. Draco moved closer, snuggling into the other's side until the brunet gave him a shoulder to rest his aching head on. "This is strange."

"How so?"

"'How so?' Just sitting, looking out at the lake with my fiancé, Harry Potter. You don't find this strange?"

Harry nodded slowly after a moment of thought. "I find it strange, but I don't think it's weird. I think it's just . . . not the norm."

"Nice was of putting it, Potter."

"Thanks."

Draco fiddled a moment with the ties of the thick cloak around his shoulders and nibbled his bottom lip in thought. "How do you feel?"

"Not so good," Harry replied, reaching under his cloak to find the blond's cool hand. He played with the slender fingers for a moment. "I've been punched three times in the face today."

Draco sat up to look at the other's black eyes. "I've been meaning to ask about that. I know I punched you . . ."

"And before that: Ron."

"And before that?"

Harry looked down at their join hands. "Ginny."

Draco looked down as well and pulled his fingers away. "Because of what happened."

"Because I broke up with her," the brunet corrected.

"Because of what happened," Draco argued, silver eyes glinting in the light of the setting sun. "You broke up with her because of me. Because . . . of our baby."

Harry shook his head and reached for the other's hand again, snatching it before the Slytherin could pull back. "I did break up with her because of you, but I did it before I knew of the baby. I did it because of yesterday. Because of last night. Because we made love."

"Do you know what tree we're sitting under, Harry?" the blond asked suddenly, yanking his hand back and standing. He allowed the cloak baring a Gryffindor lion to fall off his back and he walked around the tree, tentatively touching the tree bark. "Do you, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, but stood as well.

"This is the tree we were under the first time we fucked. Do you remember that night? How hot it was? How forbidden everything seemed?"

Harry nodded, but was afraid to say a word. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew if he said the wrong thing, he would trigger the other's anger.

"It still feels so sweetly forbidden every time I am with you. Even more so when you began dating the Weasley girl, but now . . . everyone knows. Everyone. The entire school and I'm sure it'll be in the papers, if not tonight, tomorrow morning. Then everyone will know."

"Are you ashamed?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I'm ashamed!" Draco snapped; tears appearing as his pointed nose flared. "How could I not be? Our sexual . . . deviance is now out there for the entire world to ridicule and discuss. I have shamed my family. My mother . . . Harry, did you see my mother's face?"

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"Don't apologize, you idiot," the blond ordered, wiping the few tears that fell from his now flushed cheeks. "It's my fault, you know. Last night . . . I tied you--"

"Stop it!" the brunet shouted and he reached out to pull Draco into his arms. "It is not your fault. If it's anyone's, then it's mine."

"Only because you didn't get rid of me before any of this mess even started," the pale teen sighed, pressing his forehead against the other's. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

Draco turned his head to look at the lake. The sun was almost gone and only a thin sliver of light could be seen over the horizon. "This is a cliché."

"What?" Harry asked, looking at the soft ear presented to him and aching because he wanted to nibble it, but was too afraid to try.

"The sunset, the apologies, all this crap," the blond said, pulling himself from the other's arms. "We're a big clichéd mess and we need to address it. Potter, all the sunsets in the world is not going to fix what we've fucked up."

"Draco, we can try," the brunet stressed.

"Wasn't it you who said just the other day that we would never work? Not much has changed since then, Potter!"

"Not much . . . You're pregnant! That fucking changes everything!" Harry snapped, roughing pushing his fingers through his hair. "Everything is different now!"

"Really?" Draco stared at the other man until his emerald eyes dropped to the ground. He marched up and snatched Harry's chin so that their gazes were even once more. "Really? Can you honestly look at me and say that your feelings for me have changed? Don't you still feel the same way about me as you did a few days ago? Can you honestly say that you do?"

Harry stared back into those sharp silver eyes; they dug deeper into him than the nails pressing against the skin of his chin. "I can honestly say that I feel the same way about you today as I did a few days ago."

"Exactly!" Draco released his chin roughly. "Nothing has changed. We're the same two people in a new situation that is more fucked up than our original situation and I have no idea how to deal with it."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Harry sighed, running a hand over his face as if to wipe away his stress.

"You don't have to tell me anything, Potter," Draco said, straightening his robes and looking back towards the castle. He looked back at his fiancé for a moment and quickly averted his gaze from those vulnerable green eyes. "You better pick that up, Harry. Your cloak is in the mud."


Draco found it hard to concentrate on ignoring his husband-to-be when the man looked so miraculous standing on a stool in stunning silver and black dress robes while Madam Malkin fussed around him, pinning pieces of fabric frantically and occasionally poking the frowning wizarding hero. The blond looked away each and every time green eyes went searching for his own, but he felt that hot gaze piercing through him. He had no idea why Harry insisted on having him sit in on his fitting--the blond already had his own and was now sitting in a large chair with his dress robes folded neatly in a box on his lap--but he no longer questioned it, loving the way the fussy tailor made Harry put on clothes and take of clothes and put on clothes and take off--

He snapped out of his hormone haze and started when he noticed fiery emerald eyes on him. He clutched his box tightly and looked down at his hands.

He really didn't understand why he had to sit in.

He frowned. He hadn't wanted Harry to watch when he was fitted for some reason. He blamed it on his hormones, but he had to admit that he really wanted what he looked like for the wedding to be a secret until it was time.

"God, I'm getting married," he whispered softly to himself.

"Wow, marriage," a soft voice from the doorway iterated from the doorway. Three pairs of eyes flew to the direction of the voice and a low groan filled the air.

"You," Harry hissed.

A single penciled on brow rose and ruby red lips quirked in pleasure. "Hello, Harry Potter. Or should I say Harry Malfoy? Or should I say Potter-Malfoy?"

"You don't need to say anything, you can just leave," Harry suggested as the tailor began to sew around him once more. High heels clicked across the floor like the steady trot of a horse and a long, claw-like nail tapped a strong jaw.

"Harry, dear, aren't you going to introduce me to the man you're to marry?" the "blonde" asked sweetly.

"I believe you already know Draco, Rita. Remember? Three years ago?" Harry snapped, narrowly avoiding a pair of scissors Madam Malkin had sent to trim his robes. Draco flushed at the mention of his dirty deeds during the TriWizard Tournament, but he said nothing. That is, until the hungry reporter looked his way.

"Why hello, Mister Malfoy! Nice to see you again!" the woman's shrill voice rang out as she held out her hand. Instead of the kiss upon her fingers she expected from the cultured gentleman, she received a hearty handshake.

"Hi," he said sharply, but Rita's smile never faded.

"So, how are you coping with the idea of marriage life with Harry Potter?" she asked, the feathered tip of an acid green quill peeking out from her large, tacky red bag. Draco's eyes went wide and his cheeks went crimson. "Oh, does the idea appeal to you?"

"Leave him alone, Rita," Harry snarled, causing the notorious reporter to turn in his direction.

"So you want the interview to yourself, do you, Harry?" she giggled, her pad and her quill jumping out of the bag to present themselves to the green-eyed man. "So tell me, how much are you looking forward to being wed to Mister Malfoy? How long have you been dating? What do you think of the fact that Draco was to wed another only a week ago? When was the baby conceived?"

"Go away. Go away. Go away. And-" He paused thoughtfully. "-go away. No further questions."

"I think you should leave," Madam Malkin suggested as her scissors flew gracefully into her hand. Rita's eyebrows couldn't have been any higher had she originally drawn them there.

"Fine, I know when I'm not welcomed," she stated, holding her hands up in defeat as her quill scratched frantically behind her.

"Then you should also know that you're still not welcomed on Hogwarts castle grounds," Harry told her as she walked to the door. She spun around and poked out her tongue. "See you never, Rita baby."


The week sped by faster than any week of Harry's life. He hadn't even felt this rush or unsure of himself or unprepared when he fought Voldemort to the death.

And now he was standing in a small restroom; sweat trailing down his face, hands shaking, breath shallow, waiting for his life to change forever.

"Calm down, Harry. Calm down, Harry," he ordered himself. "You are not scared of Draco. You are not scared of Draco."

"Well, that's good to know, seeing as you're going to be marrying him in the next few minutes." He spun around and sputtered when he saw Ginny before him, wearing a simple black dress and baby's breath in her hair just behind her ear.

"'Lo Ginny," he said sheepishly, looking everywhere but at the redhead.

"Hello, Harry . . . So!" she said excitedly, clapping her hands together. "You're getting married! Nice! Glad to see that your eye, er, eyes healed."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I had to get new glasses, though. Turns out you can only do so many repairing spells before the thing you keep repairing just turns to dust."

She laughed for a moment, a sweet sound he found he had missed. "How sad . . . Well, Harry, I have a wedding present for you."

He arched a brow over his new silver frames and frowned. A present. A wedding present. From his exgirlfriend.

Automatically not good.

But he was a Gryffindor, so he could do nothing but move forward. "What?"

"Have you ever heard of that game Seven Minutes in Heaven?" she asked, her large brown eyes batting innocently. She was so bad at playing innocent.

"I'm getting married, Ginny."

"You had no qualms about cheating before, Harry, why start now?" she asked haughtily, the serene look on her face melting off to make room for her anger. "Besides, I'm not here for that. Yet. I want to give you a variation of the game."

He couldn't even question any of what she just said because she was pulling the flowers from her hair and holding them out to him. He took them and she smiled at him as she would to humor a stupid person.

"I present to you Seven Minutes in Hell with Rita Skeeter," she said just as he noticed a small spotted beetle on the little flowers. His eyes widened as the bug began to grow and he looked to Ginny, but she was already running out of the door. He ran to just as it slammed and he tried to open it, but--predictably--it was locked. He pulled out his wand and waved it a few times to no avail. Then Ginny's sweet voice simpered from the other side, "She has the counter-curse. Just give her what she wants."

He turned almost theatrically, leaning heavily back on the door as he met the sight of bleached blonde hair, bleached white teeth, and an amazingly acidic looking green quill. She smiled, revealing a bit of red lipstick on those horribly white teeth, and adjusted her black, bejeweled spectacles. "I believe you owe me an interview, Mister Potter."


Lucius Malfoy adjusted his tie one final time and looked around the grounds impatiently. "Where the hell is he? Doesn't he know he'll die if he doesn't show up?"

"Oh hush, dear," Narcissa shushed, patting his shoulder affectionately. "I'm sure he's coming."

"He better be or he'll die," the blond snapped, flicking his ponytail over his shoulder and tapping his foot.

"Calm down, you're making Draco nervous," his wife sighed, gesturing toward their son who was currently standing by a tree, shaking like a leaf, and staring out into the water of the lake.

Lucius looked to his son and made a rude sound of dismissal a man of his stature should not make. "He's been like that for the whole of last week. He's making himself nervous."

"Oh thank goodness, there's Harry," Narcissa huffed out in relief. Her husband spun around to see and scowled.

"Where have you been, Potter?" he growled to the other man. Harry pushed his fingers roughly through his hair and scowled back at the man who would be his father-in-law in the next few moments.

"I was busy. Where's Draco?" Lucius opened his mouth to respond, but his wife smacked his arm and pointed in the direction of her son. "Thank you." He walked over to his fiancé and tapped the trembling blond on his shoulder gently. "Draco?"

Draco turned towards him and Harry's mouth went dry, his heart stopped, and his mind went blank at the sight of the man who would be his husband. The blond was wearing robes much like his own, but, instead of black lined with silver, he wore white and silver . . . Lots and lots of white . . .

His robes were much tighter than Harry's, adorning him like a second skin and showing off the wonderful body the brunet ached for at night. "Wow, you look . . . you look . . . Wow."

The blond blushed and smiled sweetly before moving around the other. "Is it time to start?"

Harry nodded and watched as Draco walked . . . sauntered to the archway in which they were to enter the area set up for the wedding. He followed like a lovesick puppy. Narcissa smiled at the sight, wrapped a small, slender hand around her husband's arm, and tugged him ahead of the betrothed pair so that they could prepare the crowd for the upcoming ceremony.

"Attention everyone! Attention! It's time, so can everyone please take their seats? Thank you, thank you. Lucius, say 'thank you'!"

"Thanks."

Before Harry realized what was happening, the music was playing and Draco's arm was in his.

"If you wish to live, Potter, I suggest you move," came the sweet voice of his lover in his ear and his feet began to move. He forced a smile on his face, scared that his jumpy nerves would push it right off as he saw the faces of all his friends and their families. After what seemed like a long walk off a short cliff, they finally made it to the end of the aisle, right before where the Binder stood.

The old man turned his face to Draco so slowly that Harry expected his neck to creak and they both were surprised when what seemed like a wane smile graced his leathery brown face. "Hello, Draco. Nice to see you again."

Draco squeaked, but smiled as wide as he could. "Hello."

The old man turned that frightening face Harry's was and the brunet felt his back automatically straighten. The Binder held his hand out and Harry placed his own hand in it. The old man turned back to Draco and repeated the process with the nervous blond, accepting his shaking hand with a stoic expression. He positioned the hands in such a way that Harry's right palm was facing upwards and Draco's left was hovering right above it.

They stood like this for a long moment, no one daring to make a sound, until finally he spoke, his voice a low croak, "Matri."

The invisible patterns etched into their wrists began to glow; Draco's purple as Harry's burned gold. The Binder slowly pushed their hands together.

"Is it sticking? No more babies?" Lucius asked, standing on his toes to gain a better look and gaining a smack in the head from his wife because of it. "Sorry."

Their wrists began to lessen in their glow only to return bright once more; Harry's white and Draco's black until the light disappeared. The Binder smiled his creepy smile once more and stepped back. "It is done."

The newlywed couple stared at one another a long moment. The grounds were completely silent. The tension was thick.

And then Harry reached out to his husband and attempted to kiss the life from the other man. Draco whimpered and sunk into the kiss, his fingers trailing into inky black hair.

"Well, I guess we all now know how he got pregnant," Ron huffed loudly, earning a smack on the arm by Hermione.


Draco washed his face slowly, tracing his skin with the soap his mother gave him. He ran his hands down his body, stopping at the hem of his silk pajama bottoms. He played with the edge of the silver fabric and sighed out a shuttered breath. He was alone in his parent's giant summer home, on an island no one knew existed, with his husband, Harry Potter.

He touched his stomach, hoping it was his unborn child causing him such discomfort and not his nervousness.

He took one final deep breath and walked slowly from the bathroom and into the bedroom where the dark hell angel that was his husband lay draped over the bed like the incarnation of every sexual fantasy known to man.

"Close the door," Harry whispered and a violent shudder went through the blond as he did as he was told. The dark angel crooked his finger and Draco's feet seemed to move on their own. Soon he was standing before the other man, his bare chest heaving up and down, his body trembling with want when the other man hadn't even laid a finger on him yet. Large, dark hands reached up and wrapped around his thin waist, pulling his navel closer to the other man's mouth. A hot tongue dipped inside, swirling around and pressing forward harshly, sending a spark of pleasure to Draco's nether regions. He trailed his fingers into that sinfully dark hair and gasped when he looked down. He had never really noticed the contrast of their skin, had never noticed how pale his fingers looked in that black, black hair. Harry's lips, smooth and hot, trailed lower, brushing down the hair that led to the place he wanted his husband's mouth most. Harry nuzzled that soft hair with just the teasing tip of his nose as his fingers slowly slipped the silk pants from his lover's ready body.

Draco gasped when the cool air rushed upon his newly bared skin, he hissed when his hardness accidently brushed against the other's chin, and his hands tightened in the wild dark curls. He closed his eyes, knowing that at any sign that Harry was going to do what he hoped Harry was going to do with him, he threatened to explode.

"Lay down," Harry whispered, standing in all his dark, naked glory. Draco almost wanted to ask where his black wings were, but he was distracted by the hot hands pushing him down on the bed. The other man climbed atop him, planting soft kisses on his closed eyelids, his cheek, his nose, moving down to take his time tasting Draco's sweet lips and mouth, settling for a moment at the base of Draco's long, elegant neck. He bit gently, sucking immediately at the sensitive skin and the blond hissed, his back arching, his toes curling from the euphoria. Harry began to move lower and the silver-eyed man wasn't sure if he could continue on with the amazing torture he was being put through.

Harry's tongue was relearning the texture of his nipples, seemingly putting the feel of them to memory. He sucked and teased, nibbled and tasted until Draco was rubbing himself against the other's hard stomach. He whimpered his husband's name softly, but the dark angel continued his slow, sadistic journey to his goal.

He attacked the area between Draco's navel and his hardness mercilessly, nipping violently at the hair found there, licking the unbelievably soft skin.

Finally, his kissed lower and lower until he was caressing the crown of Draco's need with his smooth lips, already slightly swollen from their earlier acts. Draco reached around suddenly and gripped himself tight.

"No, no, no. Not like that," Harry told him as if correcting a child who was taught wrong. He pulled Draco's hand loose and wrapped it around the pale length once more, guiding it to pump slowly up and down. "Like this . . . I like that."

Draco closed his eyes and bent a knee, his toes curling so tight that he felt the sheet of the bed bunch up between them. Harry's around him, guiding him . . . his arched, oh so ready for completion, but Harry's plans were far different than his own.

The brunet pulled their hands away; using his devilish mouth against the whimpering other's neck to distract the lack of pleasure with more pleasure.

"Okay, now here's what I want you to do," he murmured into Draco's soft ear. "I want you to look me right in my eyes . . ." Silver eyes snapped open and locked with simmering emerald. "And I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you . . ." Straight white teeth nipped the other's bright pink lips briefly. "You ready?"

Draco could do nothing more than nod.

He told Harry about how much he wanted those hot hands all over his body.

And those hot hands were soon touching him everywhere.

He told Harry of how much he wanted to taste the other's mouth.

And he could taste nothing but Harry, feel nothing but the roughness of his velvety tongue.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," the angel breathed into his ear over and over. "Say it . . . Say it . . . Say it . . ."

Draco was burning, his body seeming to want to melt into the sheets. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't talk, let alone bring himself to say the things he wanted done to him the most.

"Don't play shy," Harry chuckled. "Show me how bold you can be . . . Open your mouth-" He slipped his tongue out only to dip into another mouth slowly for a moment before pulling away once more. "-and tell me where you want me . . ."

Draco felt as if he was in the hands of a true master. He was the Moonlight Sonata and Harry's fingers and tongue and body were playing him, playing al of him all at once. He was music in Harry's hands, he was art, he was everything . . .

"Tell me what you want," the brunet ordered gruffly. Draco wanted to be licked. He voiced his need. "Oh, you want that? Say the word . . ." He bit his lip nervously as he stared into those deep, all knowing evergreen eyes. He traced his fingers over that dark, handsome face and sighed, leaning up for another kiss before he said what Harry wanted to hear. His husband smiled and leaned back, pulling the other up with him. "Turn around . . ."

Draco bit his pillow as the other's tongue dove into his body. He wanted to explode. He wanted to explode into tiny little pieces, only to be put back together and explode again. He wanted to die and be reborn all at once. He was already in the phoenix fire, Harry's tongue just further coaxing the flame, building him up higher and higher until he was sobbing heavily into the large bed's blanket's, begging for satisfaction. It was so close . . . so close . . . he could feel it, taste it, touch it, he was touching it . . . He screamed, a low, guttural, savage sound, starting low in his stomach and spreading like fire through and out of him. He exploded just as he had wanted to, more than he wanted to.

He collapsed listlessly onto the bed, only to be pulled up again into his husband's strong arms.

He heard a muttered spell and he was filled with a cool, familiar liquid, and then Harry was filling him, pumping into him, completing him. He tried hard to remain in the position he was placed in, but, as those hard thrusts persuaded him back into the arousal he had experienced moments before, he fell back onto his elbows, unable to gather the strength to support himself in any other way. He cried out with each piercing movement into his body. Harry was so precise . . . so precise with each and . . . every . . . stroke . . . over and over . . . in . . . and . . . out . . . more . . . and more . . . more . . . more . . .

"Anything that you want, baby, tell me you want it," Harry gasped into his ear as he moved faster. His breathing was harsh, his body was tensing. "I got it, babe . . . Anything . . . Tell me how you want it . . . Tell me how you want it, baby . . ."

Draco came again, emptying himself on the sheets his fingers had practically ripped apart. Harry shuddered over him violently, filling him, overflowing with in. The gasped as they shook together. They screamed and screamed and still they moved until one final pump, one final thrust, one more deep intrusion ended it all and they fell into one another, sobbing and kissing and tasting until they wanted to do it all over again.


Author's Note: Ay Chihuahua, hoped you liked that! -DMH