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: Jackass Harry; Panicky Draco; and . . . breasts?

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

Disclaimer: Seriously, if I told you guys that I was J.K. Rowling, who would believe me? Seriously? Raise your hands!

Chapter Eleven

The trip back to Hogwarts was uncomfortable.

And silent.

Perhaps it was uncomfortable because it was silent or perhaps it was silent because it was uncomfortable, but either way, Draco found it to be . . . awkward.

Their carriage was zooming through the air and once Harry's initial "Oh my fucking God, this is awesome!" reaction was over; he settled down into his side of the carriage and stared out the window to the green pastures of Ireland below them. His eyes, as emerald as the land, looked deeper than Draco had ever seen them, as if Harry was in deep, deep thought. They hadn't even looked that way when they had been making love.

Draco folded his hands together on his lap and looked down to his white knuckles. Well, I guess that is over, he thought, his mind wandering to their week of paradise; blissfully making love wherever and whenever the feeling overtook them.

But that was the honeymoon . . . and the honeymoon was now over.

It seemed as if they were back to business. Harry was no longer gazing at him the way he had during their wedding or their short week afterwards. In fact, he barely glanced at the other, but Draco felt that green gaze on him when he wasn't looking. They didn't even argue as they had before . . . the relationship was completely different.

That morning, they had decided on the name for their child, Evan for Harry's mother, Abraxas for Draco's grandfather, but they had yet to decide what the child's last name should be. Each man had kept their own name, so the children could not rightfully be called either Potter or Malfoy. Draco suggested Potter-Malfoy, but Harry preferred Malfoy-Potter, so they argued for a bit and opted to let their friends decide the better name when they got back to the school.

And then the awkwardness began.

Draco told himself not to cry. He had been crying off and on for the most idiotic reasons and decided that he would overcome the hormones and control his stupid emotions just like Malfoys were trained to do. Just because his husband was no longer talking to him, that didn't give him a reason for tears. "Harry?"

"Hmm?" the brunet grunted in response, his gaze still outside.

"Do you . . . Where are we staying when we get back to Hogwarts? I mean, obviously we can't stay in our separate dormitories and . . . um, raise a family."

Harry nodded and finally looked at the other man. Draco licked his lips nervously and looked down to his hands once more. "I know. I sent an owl to Dumbledore earlier this week. I got it back yesterday. He explained to me that there is an entire wing of the castle set up with dorms for young married couples. I think I recall Ron telling me that his parents lived there near the end of their seventh year. Does that sound alright?"

Draco nodded and Harry frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the blond assured him. "I was just worried about that. That's all."

"Are you mad that I didn't tell you earlier?"

Draco shook his head and continued to keep his gaze trained to his lap. Harry didn't inquire anymore and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

As Harry assumed she would, Hermione swooned at how wonderful his and Draco's honeymoon had been, told him how much Ron had grudgingly missed him, and explained how furious Ginny appeared.

"She's just been slumping around all week. I would feel bad for her if she wasn't, you know, taking it out on Ronald and me."

"Is that what she's doing?" Harry asked, looking up from the trunk he was packing and frowning. "Why would she do that to you?"

"Well, she says that I'm on your side no matter what," the brunette replied, pushing her wavy hair over her shoulder and folding her legs under herself as she adjusted her position on Harry's bed. "Which is very untrue. I don't think what you did to her is fair, but she refuses to believe that I want to help her get through this. It had to be a tough time for her."

Harry winced at the thought that he hurt Ginny, but he pushed the feelings he had for the matter aside. "Ron's still pretty pissed at me, though."

"Well . . . yeah, but he's getting over it. You know, doing that thing he always does; making bad jokes."

"So where is he now?"

"I think he's at Quidditch practice. I think they had one scheduled today."

"Oh," Harry replied, trying to hide his surprise. Apparently he was missing out on a lot of things due to his marriage and his short week away. He wondered what the team thought of the family he was building with his rival.

"Well, I'm sure that you're still captain," Hermione told him as if reading his mind. "I mean, they surely can't play as good of a game without you and it's not like you have to leave for maternity issues like Malfoy does."

The glimmer of hope that appeared on Harry's face at Hermione's earlier words fell at that last statement. "He can't play Quidditch anymore, can he?"

"Aww, Harry! Don't be that way!" the brunette gasped before leaping off the bed and throwing herself in his arms. "I'm sure you'll make it up to him."

"But," Harry grumbled against the bosom she pressed against his face. "He can't play Quidditch because of me, he finds it hard to talk to his parents, he's ashamed of what we have together and how people look at him now, and all I can give him is sex. I've ruined his life."

"My life is ruined."

"What?" Pansy asked the blond as she fished through his room, throwing an occasional item into one of the five trunks situated around it.

"My life is ruined," Draco repeated as he lay back across his bed, stared up at the ceiling, and rubbed his stomach. "Harry doesn't want me anymore."

"What makes you say that?" the girl asked, her brow furrowed as she held up a pair of shoes. "These are ugly. Going in the trash pile."

He shrugged without looking at the shoes and continued his reasoning. "Because he won't even look at me."

"Maybe he's distracted," she suggested, throwing something else into the trash pile. "You know, I bet he's busy building his life so that it aligns with yours."

"Distracted?" Draco closed his eyes in though and tried to dwell on the life inside of him, warming the palm of his hand so gently. "Does he really have to build his life around mine?"

"Well, he is your husband and you are carrying his child and this is Potter we're talking about here – Ew, ugly. Trash pile! – so you know he feels responsible for you along with the entire world."

"Up until two weeks ago, I was less than the world to him," the blond said quietly as he sat up. Pansy sighed and put down the clothing she had in her hand to crawl into the bed next to her best friend. "Draco, you need to talk to him."

"Men don't talk."

"Yes, this is true. You all just eat and fuck and just see where that got you," Pansy countered, earning a halfhearted glower from the other. "You need to talk to him. Tell him what's on your mind. Tell him your feelings."

"I don't have feelings," Draco announced as he climbed from the bed. He shook the stray strands of silvery hair from his eyes and plopped down on the spot on the floor Pansy had previously abandoned. "But if I did, I'm sure they wouldn't be reciprocated."

"What makes you say that?" the brunette asked. "Everyone sees the way Harry looks at you."

"That's just his hero complex. He feels like he has to save me from destruction via the marriage and I'm sure he would do this to anyone else he was pushed into this predicament with."

"Draco, don't play like he's nice to you just because he feels responsible," Pansy snapped. "I think he feels greatly for you."

"He does not," Draco told her, his voice holding an eerie finality to it. "I asked him . . . I asked him if he felt any different about me after he found out about Evan as he did before and he said that he didn't. He didn't feel anything for me before and he doesn't feel anything now."

"Well, I still think it isn't fair to yourself to go about like this and not say anything to him." When she found herself ignored, she huffed heavily and got out of the bed to tower over the other. "You need to say something!" she insisted. "You're treating your feelings like they're some kind of secret that no one is supposed to know about!"

Draco glared up at her, not intimidated in the least. "Well, it's my secret to keep then, isn't it?"

Harry found his best friend hot, sweaty, fresh from an irritating practice, and coming off the field with a grimace that only deepened when he noticed the bespectacled brunet. The redhead gritted his teeth and stomped past the other, but as he did so, he gave a brief nod. Harry was surprised that Ron took the time to acknowledge him and followed the other into the locker room.

"How did practice go?" he asked as Ron and the other's shook off their Quidditch attire. A few members of the team frowned at him, but Ron was the only one to answer.

"It was alright," he said, pulling off his crimson robes and tossing them carelessly into a nearby locker. "But it seems people want to follow their own agendas and not listen to the assigned Assistant Captain-" 

He raised his voice a bit at those words for the other's to hear him clearly. "-because he has such close ties to the Captain."

Worry flickered across Harry's face for a moment. "What does that have to do with them not listening to you?"

Ron frowned and put down his bag to look his friend of seven years straight in the eye. "The team has lost respect for you because of what you did to Ginny and I find it hard to argue with them."

Harry was taken aback for a moment, but he had expected as much. "Well, the team can go fuck themselves then."

"What?" Dean Thomas snapped from the corner he was pretending not to listen to their conversation from.

"Go fuck yourselves," Harry said loudly and clearly enough for everyone to hear him. He turned to each member of the team with a look in his eye that screamed challenge, but softened it a bit when he reached the sad, brown eyes of the girl he hurt. "Obviously what I did was wrong and obviously it would cause a rift between me and you guys, but if that means the team is just going to go to shit, we should suck it up."

"Are you saying that I should just suck it up despite what you did?" Ginny hissed, tossing her pads down and stomping towards him.

"I'm telling you that you should ignore the feelings of the individual in you when you wear that uniform and be a fucking team player," Harry told her, hoping she didn't punch him again. "What I did had nothing to do with Quidditch, but if you continue to make it an issue during practices or games it shows what weak resolve you have and it proves that you shouldn't be on this team."

Ginny hauled back and smacked him in the face. Then she did it again. And again. "I hate you for what you did! How do you expect me to ignore that?!"

Harry stared at her sadly as she wrapped her arms around herself and began to sob. "I dunno, but . . . God, I'm going to sound like an even greater jerk for this, but you know you're going to get over it one day, right? I can't take anything back."

"You can at least say that you're sorry," she told him. He grimaced and stared at his feet for a moment. A lump formed in the back of his throat and he swallowed it down forcefully, ignoring how much it hurt.

"I am so sorry for what I did to you, Ginny. I cannot forgive myself for my actions and I almost can't believe that I was so careless with your emotions," he told her, the shame in his voice genuine.

"Go fuck yourself, Captain," she said softly, a small smile on her face. He smiled back wanly and she moved back to her locker, packed up the last of her things and left the room.

Harry turned to Ron to see the other man gaping at him. "What?"

"How the hell did you get her to forgive you with that piece of crap speech?"

The brunet shrugged. "I don't think she forgave me, but she just might turn the anger towards me to Quidditch during Quidditch time, now. Lemme guess, she still doesn't feint correctly, right?"

Ron smiled and shook his head. "You are such a jackass." Several other teammates nodded and Harry laughed out loud.

"You guys should be grateful," he chuckled. "I got the Captain and the Seeker of our rival team out of the way. He's on maternity leave because of me."

"Well, could you fuck half the Ravenclaw team, too?" someone asked before laughter erupted and a Quaffle came hurtling in his direction.

It was Sunday. He had classes the next day. He hadn't seen his husband since the morning. He hadn't gone to dinner for fear of people seeing him and talking about him. He hadn't gone in search for husband for that same reason. As soon as he and Pansy had packed all of his belongings, he had Crabbe and Goyle move the trunks to the Far East wing of the castle, on the lower floors, to his new room that was to be shared with Harry. It was large, larger than he had expected it to be and it consisted of four large rooms; a bedroom with a connected bathroom, a kitchen, and a sitting area. When he had arrived, he noticed a trunk already in the center of their bedroom and decided that he would spend the afternoon unpacking his own things until his husband came back to do the same. The afternoon turned to evening and though Draco was a bit hungry, he was more tired and he laid across his bed for a nap.

He was awake when Harry strolled into their new rooms. The man announced from the kitchen that he had brought food, but Draco didn't respond and merely continued to lie in his bed. He felt Harry presence in the room a moment afterward, though he couldn't hear the other.

"Draco?" he asked into the air softly. "Draco?" The blond still refused to respond even as the other climbed into the bed next to him. Harry shuffled around a bit next to him and a blanket was soon wrapped around him as well as a strong pair of arms. "Draco?" He didn't say a word, but Harry pushed him onto his back and he opened his eyes to see dark emeralds glittering back at him through the moonlit darkness of their bedroom. "Draco."

Harry traced a hand down his face. His finger followed the perfect curve of each white-blond brow. It followed the line of Draco's sharp, patrician nose. It sampled the softness of a slightly thin bottom lip and a pouty upper one and Harry leaned forward to capture both with his own. The brunet gave him gentle kisses, kisses he had dreamed of and enjoyed occasionally the week before. Those kisses deepened, but never lost their gentleness and as Draco was lost in them, he felt Harry's hand reach under his shirt to caress his stomach and a comforting warmth grew within him.

"Harry, wake up."

"Wha'?"

"Wake up."

"It can't be time for class yet," he muttered as he turned over and opened one green eye. "What time is it?"

"Almost four."

"Almost four?! Draco, go to sleep!"

"Harry, look."

The brunet sat up and looked at the other man sitting on the other end of the bed with a panicked look on his face. "What?" he yawned.

"I'm showing!" the blond cried as he lifted up his shirt and showed his husband his newly rounded belly.

"What?" Harry gasped, even as he stared down at the slightly blurry, but obviously distended stomach. He reached blindly to the nearest nightstand to grab his glasses and hurriedly put them on, almost gouging his eye out in the process of doing so. Once his vision was clear, he looked at his husband's stomach and reached out to touch it, but Draco flinched away. "Wow."

"Wow?" the Slytherin gasped back. "What do you mean 'wow'? I'm fat!"

"You are not fat! You're pregnant!" Harry yelled at him. "It's supposed to be beautiful!"

"What the bloody hell do you mean, beautiful?! I'm a freak of nature, that's what I am," Draco snarled back, tears starting in those crystal clear eyes. "I've only been pregnant for two weeks and now it looks like I'm housing a prize winning pumpkin!"

"Oh, shut up, Draco. I'm sure it's normal in – Is it normal in wizard pregnancies?" Harry suddenly asked as he quickly ran the situation over again in his mind.

"I dunno," Draco whispered, pressing his hand to his stomach before making a face. "I don't feel very well."

"Maybe you're hungry," Harry absently suggested as he continued to think about the things Hermione had told him concerning wizard pregnancy. "I brought some soup from dinner yesterday since you missed it. I think it's beef ste –" Draco suddenly covered his mouth and scrambled out of the bed and into the bathroom to toss his head into the toilet and heave up what little he ate the day before. Harry was by his side in seconds, holding his hair back, stroking a hand between his shoulder blades, and offering up sweet, whispered words of comfort as he was sick. Finally, he lifted his head and whimpered. He allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet and pushed in the direction of the sink by his husband. 

Together, they washed his mouth out and straightened his appearance enough so that was presentable in public, though they were just venturing out at four in the morning.

Draco's earlier sobs had now been replaced with silent tears that continuously streamed down each of his cheeks as he followed behind his husband like a lost puppy. He cursed himself and his stupid hormones for his embarrassing behavior in front of Harry, but the brunet had yet to say a word about his mood swings. Draco chuckled darkly at himself; of course Potter would stay as emotionally detached as possible . . . despite the hours of kisses that occurred not so long ago. Draco had to remember that he was not in a normal marriage, that he was in a cursed union, and he had to remember that so he could learn to stifle the tears.

Finally, they made it to the hospital wing and Harry held the door open for the other man, pausing just a moment to wipe a few tears of Draco's cheeks, but the blond just flinched away. He sighed and walked in after his husband. "I'm kinda scared to wake up Madam Pomfrey with this."

"Don't worry, Potter," the blond spat. "She's a medical witch; she's supposed to be available twenty-four hours of the day."

Harry stared at his husband for a moment as if searching for some way to respond to Draco's sudden anger, but he said nothing and walked ahead of the other to the witch's office. He knocked on the door a bit roughly and he hoped it didn't come off as impolite, but a few seconds later, the door swung open and the witch was looking them up and down with wide eyes. "What seems to be the problem?"

Draco pushed Harry out of the way and showed the woman the curve of his stomach. "Is this normal?!"

Her eyes widened a bit, but she soon developed a stern expression and gestured for the pair to follow her to a nearby examination table. "Sit down on this . . . the both of you." As they took their seats, she produced a stool from out of thin air, along with a table and a series of thick books, from just a wave of her wand. She sat on the stool, pointed her wand to her face so that glasses would appear, pointed the wand to a lantern so that the light flickered a bit brighter, and opened a book. She read quietly for a few moments and they stared at her . . . and stared and stared and stared. Then she looked up at them . . . and turned the page. They gaped.

"Excuse me, Madam," Harry interjected softly. "I think Draco's going through a mild panic attack."

Those last two words seemed to have caused an electric shock through the woman's body and she hopped up from her stool and was standing before the blond in an instant. "How do you feel, dear? Tell me what happened. Is your tummy still warm when you touch it?"

Draco shot a thankful look to his husband and nodded his head slightly. "I'm just confused. I just . . . I've recently been sick –"

"Morning sickness?" the witch asked.

He nodded. "Yes. It was right after I woke up and discovered that my . . . body had changed a bit. I think it frightened me and I . . . took it out on Harry a bit, but I don't believe it was a panic attack." He shot another look to his husband, this time apologetic and the man nodded and intertwined fingers with him. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes dear?" she asked as she picked up the book she had dropped on the floor.

"I'm only two weeks pregnant. I don't understand –"

"Why you look four months?" she finished and he nodded. "Well, I can't say I'm the expert on wizard pregnancies, but from what I know about the progression is that each case is different. Some pregnancies last months, some years, and I've even heard of one that occurred all in one day."

"Must have been a long day," Draco huffed. The nurse smiled at him and patted his knee.

"Perhaps I should have a talk with you two about how Draco's body will change?" she asked and the pair nodded. "Well, as you can see, the stomach becomes distended, but not because of the same reason a woman's stomach grows in pregnancy. Where a woman has the sexual organs able to sustain a life within her, a male does not, but in this case, your combined magic has constructed a physical womb of magic around your child. Had Harry been stroking your stomach awhile before you went to sleep?"

Draco blushed and nodded as he looked at his hand and Harry's and the witch smiled knowingly.

"Your combined magic will be needed to help the child grow and it will also be needed during the birth of the child where the baby will be lifted up and out of your magical womb."

"What?" Harry asked. "Will it be like a C-section?"

"A what, dear?" the witch asked, clearly puzzled at the muggle term.

"Um, well . . . when Muggle woman can't have their babies the normal way, the doctor cuts open their stomachs and –"

"Oh my God! No one's gutting me open like a fish, you prat!" Draco gasped, clapping protective hands over his stomach.

"I didn't mean to make it sound so gruesome!"

"How else can that be described? Huh? Cutting people open. We are not doing that!"

Madam Pomfrey patted each of their knees as a sign that they needed to calm down. "No worries, Mister Malfoy. I think I do believe hearing something of the sort, but there will be no need for such procedures. If you progress so that the birth occurs before term ends, I feel I am fully capable of handling it and if you happen to be outside of the school when it happens, there are Medi-witches and wizards trained for special cases like these. No need to worry."

"Alright," Draco sighed as he took Harry's hand again. "Will anything else happen to my body besides the stomach thing."

The nurse looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "For the first few months after the baby is born, you will have to feed the child with milk produced from your own body, so when the baby needs to feed, you will grow breasts so that is possible."

"That should be exciting," Harry said, his eyes wide.

"What?!" the blond gasped, clutching his chest this time. "I'm going to have breasts?!"

"Only when the child needs to be nursed," the woman assured him. "Otherwise, they will be nonexistent."

As Draco tried to come at peace with the news, he turned to his husband and noticed the look on his face. "Why are you looking like that?"

Harry raised both eyebrows and shrugged. "It doesn't sound so bad . . ."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the man and turned back to the nurse. "Anything else?"

"You may decrease in height."

"What?" Draco gaped. "What does that have to do with anything?!"

Madam Pomfrey merely shrugged. "Studies have been made on this subject, but none can explain it. The 'mother' wizard is the one to become shorter, but this doesn't happen in all cases."

"Harry, get up," the blond insisted, pushing the other off the table and jumping off himself. He gripped the brunet's shoulders so that they stood face to face and turned to the witch with hopeful eyes.

"You look about the same height to me," she told them.

Draco's face erupted in horror. "I was taller than him!" he wailed. "Ugh, God! I'm shrinking!"

Author's Note: Draco's panic attacks are fun to write. You guys should try it. I think this chapter was informative, don't you? The stomachs, the breasts, the shrinking and all that. Haha. I thought it would be funny for Draco to have breasts and Harry to be intrigued, so I think I wrote that part for me instead of you guys, but I really have no idea what the shrinking has to do with being pregnant. I just suddenly wanted Draco to be short, I guess. LOL! Anywho, tell me what you think. Oh, and I have no idea when the next chap will be posted cuz I'm working in the dead of night with stolen internet again and my Dad's being all Darth Vader again and not letting me use the force, so I gotta keep the stealing on the minimum so not to get caught. And I haven't really had the time to respond to any reviews, so please forgive me. I appreciate them all and it's motivating to read them. Wow, this is a long author's note. I'm gonna shut up. -DMH