The upcoming chapter pains me a lot.

Anyway...I'm so happy with how the story's doing. I feel so inspired to write because I checked my email last night (I barely check my email) and I found out that around seven or eight people added No Air to their favorite stories list, and a few added me to their favorite authors. I'm so honored.

Well then. Enjoy!

Chapter 8 – Uncovered

But how do you expect me

To live alone with just me

'Cause my world

Revolves around you

It's so hard for me to breathe

Perhaps I'm getting lucky tonight.

The dark-haired man dropped the bottle of butterbeer he was just starting to drink on his kitchen counter, and walked across his spacious apartment to answer the door. Blaise was lonely these days. When his best mate Draco had learnt that his beloved girlfriend had married someone else, the young Malfoy was never in the mood to go out for some late night fun with him. Then when Natasha Redding came into Draco's life, Draco spent so much time with his new supermodel girlfriend that he barely had any time left to hang out with Blaise.

And then there was his other best friend, Daphne, as well. But she stayed locked up in her flat all the time, moping and sulking. Blaise knew the reason why she was like that was because of Natasha. Daphne had a crush on Draco ever since she laid eyes on him, and that was when all three of them were still in diapers! Daphne secretly wished that Draco Malfoy would be hers. She'd have done anything to have him. That would have been easy for her. She was smart, cunning, manipulative and rich, the qualities that would have been immensely useful for a true Slytherin, and she thought she finally got the chance when Hermione Granger slipped out of his life. But her plans were intercepted, obviously. Daphne probably believed that no one else knew of her true intentions, but she couldn't hide anything from Blaise. He was a Slytherin, too, and he was just as sly and clever as she was.

Yes. Damn yes, I am getting lucky.

Standing in Zabini's doorway was a tall, statuesque woman, a serene smile on her face. She was the incarnation of perfection – for him, at least. But she was committed to someone else, so he couldn't have her. Besides, he'd never be happy with anyone like her. She was gone as much as he was, and he wondered how Draco could stand being without her for such long periods of time.

Well. It was because Draco didn't even love her.

"Hey, you," Natasha said so seductively that it made Blaise ache. She was always so seductive, without even meaning to be. Blaise couldn't speak, but Natasha stepped forward with her arms open, and embraced him.

"I'm sorry if I came without any notice. It's so rude of me to come here and not call you first! I do hope you don't mind, Blaise," Natasha apologized. She released him, still standing out in the hall.

Blaise shook his head slightly to clear his fazed vision. "No, no, I don't mind. Please, come in, Natasha." He offered his hand for her coat. She shrugged out of it and draped it on his arm. Natasha waltzed into Blaise's living room and sat on one of his ottomans.

"Would you like anything to drink, Nat?" Blaise proffered, his voice still quivering. Natasha lifted her hand to stop him from approaching the wet bar.

"Thanks, but no, I'd rather not. I'm driving tonight," she explained. "If I started, I fear I wouldn't be able to stop." Blaise shrugged and settled himself on the cushioned footrest in front of her, looking up into her radiant face.

They sat in awkward silence until Natasha spoke. "It's good to see you back, Blaise! You've been gone for – what? Three weeks? Almost a month now! Where've you been?"

"I just visited my mother and her husband in Italy," he shared. "You've also been far away from home, yourself! Across the Atlantic for a photo shoot, eh? Poor Draco, the chap's been all alone without us both."

"Well, he has Daphne to keep him company if he was too lonely," Natasha breathed. He wondered if she knew of Daphne's feelings for her boyfriend, too.

"So…" Natasha grinned. It was time to stop the small talk, and start discussing the matter she come to talk about in the first place.

"Draco and I were walking around the city two weeks ago, and we happened to bump into a friend of yours in a bookstore," she laughed a fake laugh, but it sounded genuine to Blaise. "Actually, I bumped into her…literally!" Blaise laughed along.

"A friend of mine?"

"Yours, and Draco's, and Daphne's, as well. You all know her, Draco tells me," Natasha supplied.

Blaise hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder who that could be."

"Hermione Granger…?" Natasha whispered.

He smiled widely, his eyes showing his surprise. "By God, they've seen each other! I heard she was back. I saw Harry Potter at the Ministry of Magic just last week! He told me they were staying at the house his deceased godfather Sirius gave him. The fellow was pleasant to me, but when I suggested that he tell Hermione to meet with Draco sometime, his face turned sour all so oddly, and he told me he had to rush off somewhere. Strange, really."

"Tell me about Hermione, darling." Natasha placed her chin on her hand, her glossy lips pursed into a questioning smile. "She seems so interesting, a good friend. I'd like to meet with her again."

"I'm surprised Draco hasn't told you about her yet! He'd normally be so full of her! Once you've got him started on her, the only way you'd be able to get him to shut up is a Silencing Charm."

"What do you mean?"

Blaise's forehead crinkled. If Draco didn't tell her…he didn't want her to know. Then I shouldn't, it's his story to tell.

"All Draco told me was that she went to Hogwarts with the three of you and she was in Gryffindor with Harry Potter." Natasha's lips turned upward into another warm smile. "Oh, Blaise, please!"
Blaise couldn't help but give in. He didn't even care why she was interested.

"Oh, well…I don't know where to begin."

"Start with your Hogwarts days, if you please."

"Sure. Okay. Um," Blaise's elbows were on his lap, he was leaning forward to Natasha. "So Granger was in Gryffindor. There was a customary feud between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, so it was just ordinary that Draco and Daphne and I loathed Hermione and her little goody-goody friends. We hated her a bit more than the other Gryffindorks, for she was a Muggle-born," Blaise snickered, reminiscing. "We threw hexes at each other, and ended up getting into trouble all the time with the Deputy Headmistress – gosh, that McGonagall was always such a hag!"

"I wish I had gone to Hogwarts like you guys did," Natasha sighed. "You had such fun times. Beauxbatons was so damned stuck-up and snobby! Everyone there was too uptight. I swear to God, if I ever have any children, I am never sending them there!"

"Well, girls from Beauxbatons came to Hogwarts in our fourth year, along with some other students from Durmstrang."

"What for?"

"The Triwizard Tournament. That bloody bugger, Potter, got into the Tournament, even if he was underage! No justice at all, I tell you, especially when Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore are put together. Every other boy in our year wanted to compete, but no, it was stupid Harry Potter who had to take all the glory. Believe me, you should have seen Draco's wrath when we got back to our rooms. That Potter dartboard Daphne had given him for his birthday got torn up to shreds." Blaise shook his head jokingly.

"Oh, yeah, I remember now! I was too young to come along then, but I would have loved to visit Hogwarts."

"Well, anyway, we had the Yule Ball that year," Blaise recalled. "I will never forget what Draco said to me that night."

"Oh?" Natasha was suddenly troubled. "What?"

"You know Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Triwizard champion, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Who wouldn't know her?" Natasha snorted. "Last I heard, she was married to one of those red-haired impoverished Weasley boys."

"The Weasleys aren't so impoverished anymore, thanks to the kindly recommendations all their children received from Potter after we graduated from Hogwarts. Ron Weasley plays for the Chudley Cannons now, Potter said last week, his twin brothers' shop is a big hit, and his little sister is Potter's wife. Miss Delacour married their eldest brother, who owns a curse-breaker firm. It rivals Draco's own, but the Malfoys' company is much stronger than Bill Weasley's."

"Blaise," Natasha interrupted. "You were telling me what happened during the Yule Ball, right?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, the conversation slipped. Well, then, Draco and I were among the last remaining in the Great Hall after the ball. The band was playing their last song, a loud, raucous piece. Pansy Parkinson was his date that night, and mine was Daphne. I asked him who he thought was the most beautiful girl in the ball, expecting him to name one of the Beauxbatons girls. But to my surprise, he blurted out Hermione Granger! Thank Merlin no one heard him over the noise. I thought he was just drunk, but Draco never got drunk while we were in school.

"I asked him why he actually thought Granger looked pretty, and he said, 'Oh, come now, Blaise! Were you blind? Didn't you see here? I swear, she was stunning, lovelier than Fleur Delacour or all of the Beauxbatons girls put together!' and I was taken aback. We'd been teasing him since third year that he had a crush on Granger – she had wounded his ego and his nose by punching him that year."

Natasha nodded. "What happened afterwards?"

"For the rest of the year, up till sixth year, those two were at each other's throats like cat and dog. Then both of them got assigned as Head Boy and Head Girl in seventh year – the year of the last war against Voldemort – and everything fell into place, just as everyone in the school hoped it would. Draco and Hermione shared the Heads' Tower, much to their chagrin at first, but they warmed to each other, and pretty soon, Draco finally put a claim to her." Blaise's smile was so wide, that it opposed Natasha's frown greatly.

Blaise continued with his story. "After the war, Saint Potter decided to get away for a while. Ginny Weasley went with him, and Hermione took up the offer and came along, too. Then…Granger got engaged. Daphne was the one who told Draco, by accident. She thought he already knew. Poor bloke was devastated. Wouldn't speak to anyone for a week, until I finally knocked the life back into him."

"Is that all, then, Blaise?" Natasha gulped.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is," Blaise smiled. "Would you like to know anything else? Oh, I know! I perfectly remember how Draco and I would fly up the stairs to the girls' dormitories on our brooms to visit Daphne!"

Natasha laughed. "Why would you use your brooms to simply climb the stairs? That's silly."

"The stairs to the girls dormitories had a charm on them of some sort. When a boy attempted to enter, the stairs would turn into a ramp, and the poor fellow would go sliding down, utterly humiliated. Daphne hated to see us after Quidditch practice, complaining that we were too stinky and sweaty, so right after me and Draco got back from the pitch, we would fly straight to the Slytherin dungeons and up to Daphne's room to try and piss her off."

"Sounds amusing, Bliase, darling, but may I please use your phone? My mobile ran out of battery," Natasha purred.

"Why, of course. Go right ahead."

Natasha skipped to the telephone resting on top of the bar. She sat on one of the tall stools, realizing that she did not know the number of the house that Hermione was staying in, let alone the fact that she wasn't even sure if #12 Grimmauld Place had a Muggle telephone!

"Blaise?" she called.

"Yes, Natasha?"

"Do you happen to know the number where I can call Hermione Granger?"

"Why, yes, of course, I do." Blaise pulled open a drawer and took out a small black book. He flipped the pages, then handed it opened to Natasha.

"Here it is. Hermione Granger."

"Thanks so much, Blaise," Natasha muttered, without looking away from the telephone number in front of her. She dialed it quickly. A woman received the call.

"Hello?" Ginny Weasley said.

"Yes, hello, good evening. Is this the number where I might reach Hermione Granger?" Natasha inquired ever so politely.

"That's right. May I please ask who is calling?"

"Natasha Redding."

"Oh. Oh! Wow. Hello," Ginny gushed, surprised that a supermodel was asking for her best friend.

"Well, um…may I speak with Miss Granger, please?" Natasha requested.

"I'm sorry, she's not here," Ginny explained. "She went out for dinner with a friend, and I suppose she'll be back late. Would you like to leave a message?"

"Oh, I see. No, it's all right," Natasha frowned. Dinner with a friend. "Thank you, though. I'm sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble at all. Okay, then. Goodbye." Ginny Weasley hung up the phone.

Natasha stumbled back to the living room. Blaise had turned the television on, and was clicking on the remote control, looking for something good to watch.

"Did you get to talk to her?" Blaise asked over his shoulder. Natasha joined him on the couch, rummaging through her bag for her cigarettes. She couldn't find them. Draco, once again, had messed with her things and stolen her cigarettes – he hated it when she smoked. Damn. That was her last pack.

"No, she was out of the house."

"Who answered the phone?"

"A woman."

"Ah. That must have been Ginny Weasley, or her mother."

Natasha was still troubled. "Do you know where Draco is?"

"Isn't he at home in his flat?"

"No. He went out tonight."

"Well," Blaise breathed. What was Malfoy up to? "I don't know where he is, sorry, Nat."

"Okay." Natasha zipped her bag. "Blaise," she said, standing up. "I better leave. I have a meeting early tomorrow."

"Oh, all right," Blaise said, taking her coat from where he stored it. He took her to the door."

"Thanks so much for everything, Blaise."

"No problem, Nat. Thanks for stopping by."


The sound of the door unlocking startled Natasha. She walked from Draco's kitchen, just in time to see Draco sealing the door.

When Draco turned, Natasha was staring at him accusingly, her hands folded across her chest, the usually smooth, pale skin a blotchy red.

"Nat, you surprised me. I didn't think you'd be here," Draco began.

"Well, I'm here," she said coldly. "Where've you been?"

Draco hung his coat up in the closet by the door. "I went out."

"That's obvious. Who were you with?"

"Blaise."

Natasha glared at him, and walked back into the kitchen. She had been chopping an apple when Draco had arrived, and now she didn't trust herself with the knife, anymore, because she might suddenly hurl it at him. He was still standing in the living room.

"Liar!" she yelled. "For your information, I just came from Blaise's flat, and I certainly didn't see you there!"

Draco stormed into the kitchen, standing across Natasha at the other side of the counter, right in front of her knife.

"What? I told you not to go to Blaise's flat alone, Natasha! I said I'd come with you!" Draco scolded.

"Stop making me the bad guy here!" Natasha screeched. "I'm glad I came alone, for now I've learnt so much. The reason why you don't want to leave me alone with Blaise is because you're scared of the things he'd tell me! Now I know where you've been, who you've been with, and the past you had with Hermione Granger!"

"How can you be sure I was with Granger?" Draco challenged.

"I called her house, and the lady who answered said that she was with a friend," she spat back. "I asked Blaise if he knew where you were, and he said he didn't know, and just now, you tried to lie to me that you were with Blaise. I'm not stupid, Draco, so I put two and two together. Of course you'd want to be with Hermione. You still love her, and you've been lying to me every time you tell me that you love me."

Draco was appalled. "How could you say that?"

Natasha took a sharp intake of breath.

"I heard you and Blaise talking."

"What?" Draco snapped.

"The first time I met Blaise. You and Blaise were talking. I overheard you. He was telling you to let me go, because you'd end up hurting me… I didn't want to believe him at first. But I'm glad that he stood up for me, and I'm sorry that I didn't think that his words were true! If I did, it could have saved me all this trouble!"

"Nat –"

"Don't," Natasha hissed. "Don't you dare talk to me, Draco Malfoy, I hate you!" She didn't realize that she was holding the knife up at him, until she noticed that he was staring at the sharp object pointedly.

"Put. The. Knife. Down," Draco said slowly, warningly. Natasha inhaled again, and the knife dropped to the marble counter with a loud clatter.

"Natasha."

"Draco. We should cool off. You obviously don't feel for me what I feel for you. You be happy with Granger," she said dismissively. Natasha grabbed her bag and coat and started for the door.

He grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me, Draco. Just let go, like Blaise told you before. Let go."


Nyahaha. Natasha isn't out of the story yet. Wait for it. :D