Through The Night
Rumors of Cedric's daring rescue spread like wildfire through the halls of Hogwarts, and by the afternoon, nearly everyone knew the story. The whispers painted Juliet as the tragic, troubled Slytherin beauty, saved in the nick of time by the golden boy from Hufflepuff. As always, stories twisted in the retelling, but one thing remained constant—Juliet Van Der Hart was the center of attention once again, though not in the way she might have liked.
When Pansy heard the rumors, her stomach churned with guilt. She stormed toward the infirmary, panic written all over her face. Blaise and Draco followed closely behind, both boys equally on edge but trying to mask it in their own way. Blaise's concern was obvious, his steps hurried as he tried to calm Pansy down. Draco, on the other hand, maintained a carefully neutral expression, though his heart hammered in his chest.
They entered the infirmary, and there she was — Juliet, still unconscious, her usually lively face pale against the white hospital bed. The tubes and IVs that snaked around her arms only added to the surreal image. Pansy froze in her tracks, the sight of her best friend looking so fragile hitting her harder than she'd expected. Her lip quivered, and before she could stop herself, tears welled up in her eyes.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," Pansy whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't know..."
Blaise gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Pans. Come on, let's get you some air."
Pansy nodded, too overwhelmed to argue, and allowed Blaise to guide her out of the infirmary. As they left, Draco stayed rooted in place, his gray eyes fixed on Juliet's face. The silence felt heavy, the faint beeping of the medical equipment the only sound in the room.
Draco's mask of indifference slowly began to crack as he watched her breathing steadily, though too shallow for his comfort. Despite the irritation she often stirred in him — her reckless partying, her carefree attitude, the privilege she wore like an impenetrable shield — something tugged at him.
He sat down beside her bed, leaning back in the stiff chair, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar emotions swirling inside him. Her pale skin looked even more delicate under the sterile lights, and her hair fanned out across the pillow in soft waves.
He scoffed inwardly at himself for staying, but there was something about the sight of her like this — silent, vulnerable — that he couldn't shake. The usual fire and wildness that surrounded Juliet was gone, leaving behind something raw and real. He didn't know what he expected when he sat down, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.
"For your information," he said to Juliet's unconscious body, eyes darting around the room to scan if he could be heard by other people. "I'm only here because Pansy asked me to come."
Hours passed, and despite his efforts to stay awake, Draco's eyes grew heavier. Soon, exhaustion won, and he drifted off, slumped in the chair next to Juliet's bed.
Juliet stirred in the middle of the night, her eyelids fluttering open. Her body felt heavy, as though it were weighed down by the thick fog of exhaustion and confusion. Her head pounded, and her limbs were stiff from hours of lying still. Blinking a few times, she slowly became aware of her surroundings — the unfamiliar beeping, the sterile scent of potions, and the soft hum of magic-infused machines.
Her eyes darted down to the tubes connected to her arms, and her heart leapt into her throat. Panic bubbled up inside her as she realized she was in the hospital wing. The last thing she remembered was being in the bathroom, popping those pills... but everything after that was a blur.
Her breath quickened, and she was about to pull the IV from her skin when her gaze fell on the figure slumped in the chair beside her bed.
Draco Malfoy.
Juliet's panicked thoughts paused for a moment, her mind trying to make sense of why he was here. Draco, of all people. His head rested against the back of the chair, and his breathing was soft and even, as if he had been sitting there for hours. She hadn't expected anyone to care, least of all Draco. But here he was, asleep, as if he hadn't wanted to leave her side.
A small, tired smile crept across her face, despite the throbbing in her head. Draco's presence — unexpected as it was — gave her an odd sense of comfort. For a fleeting moment, she forgot about the panic and confusion that had threatened to overwhelm her.
She shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, and allowed herself to close her eyes again. Maybe she could sleep just a little longer, now that she wasn't completely alone.
As she drifted off once more, the ghost of a smile remained on her lips. Whatever tomorrow would bring, at least for now, she had a strange, quiet peace.