The Luxe Diaries

The next morning, Juliet slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the grogginess as the hospital wing came back into focus. Her head still throbbed, and her body felt weak, but she was more aware than she had been the night before. The quiet hum of magic in the room was familiar, but what caught her attention most was the sight of Pansy standing at the foot of her bed, wringing her hands anxiously.

"Juliet..." Pansy's voice was soft but filled with remorse. The moment Juliet looked up at her, Pansy hurried forward, guilt evident in her wide eyes. "I am so, so sorry for what happened."

Juliet blinked, her mind still foggy, but Pansy's words began to sink in.

"I didn't mean for things to get so out of control," Pansy continued, her voice cracking. "I was just so mad, and I didn't realize how much pressure I was putting on you. We may fight — Merlin knows we fight a lot — but at the end of the day, we're sisters, Juliet. You know that, right? We're meant to be together. No matter what."

Juliet stayed silent for a moment, taking in Pansy's words. Despite everything that had happened, the guilt in her best friend's eyes tugged at her heart. She knew Pansy well enough to understand that this apology was genuine. Despite all the chaos and drama, there was an unspoken bond between them that was hard to break.

Pansy, sensing Juliet's hesitation, continued, "Can I make it up to you?"

Juliet faintly smiled using all the energy her system had left. Her appreciation for Pansy was beyond words.

"Tonight?" continued Pansy, hope glimmered in her eyes. "I could host a party? Thank the guy who saved your life?"

Juliet chuckled, throat raspy from her recovery. Though Pansy's words did strike her curiosity. How had she been found? She was sure she'd blacked out in the abandoned women's bathroom. How could a guy have found her?

"Who did end up finding me?" she asked.

"Cedric Diggory," answered Blaise with a hand on Pansy's waist. "He was on his way to the Hufflepuff common room and he heard Moaning Myrtle screaming bloody murder." His chuckle echoed in the ghostly state of the infirmary.

"I owe him my best friend," said Pansy, with her heart on her sleeve. "What do you say?"

Before Juliet could respond, Blaise's whisper eroded Pansy's ears. "We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts in a bit. Might want to be ready for that."

Pansy nodded, glancing back at Juliet one last time. "We'll talk more later, okay? Rest up. I'll be visiting you in between classes." With that, Pansy and Blaise left the infirmary, the sound of their footsteps growing faint as they disappeared down the hallway.

Draco hadn't moved from his seat at all even with Blaise and Pansy gone, and with classes starting in about two minutes. Juliet's eyes drifted toward him before the flickered to another area of the room.

An awkward silence hung in the air between them. Draco's expression was unreadable as he avoided looking directly at her. Juliet couldn't shake the image of him passed out beside her bed, and she knew she had to say something.

"So..." Juliet started, her voice hoarse but steady. "You stayed the night."

Draco's jaw tightened, and he glanced away, as if the mere mention of him staying the night was irritating.

"Pansy made me," he muttered, his tone dismissive. "She wouldn't shut up about how someone had to stay with you. Her voice gets so irritating when she's upset, I figured the only way to get her to leave me alone was to agree."

Juliet raised an eyebrow, studying him. It was classic Draco — always deflecting with snide comments or excuses. But there was something in his eyes that told her there was more to it than that. He had stayed, whether he'd admit it or not.

"Right," she said, not bothering to hide the hint of amusement in her voice. "You stayed because Pansy forced you. Got it."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair, still refusing to look directly at her. "Don't get any ideas, Van Der Hart. It's not like I care or anything."

"Of course not," she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. "Why would you?"

The air between them was thick with awkward tension, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Draco finally glanced up at her, his gray eyes locking onto hers, and for the first time, Juliet saw something flicker across his face — something like concern, though he quickly masked it with his usual indifferent expression.

"Look," he said, and Juliet awaited the judgement incoming, "you can't keep doing this. Getting trashed, putting yourself in danger... It's reckless."

Juliet's smile faded. His words, though harsh, struck a nerve. She knew he was right, but admitting that would mean acknowledging everything she'd been running from — and putting an end to that meant facing it.

"I didn't mean to," she said quietly, her eyes dropping to the bedsheets. "I didn't... I didn't want it to go that far."

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "It doesn't matter what you meant to do. The point is, it happened. And next time, you might not be so lucky." It sounded like a threat the way he'd said it, but Juliet had gotten used to Draco's pessimism.

"You could've left," she said softly, finally meeting his gaze again. "But you didn't."

Draco's expression tightened, and for a brief second, he looked as though he was going to snap back with one of his usual sarcastic remarks.

"Don't make a big deal out of this, Juliet," he said, his voice cool again. "You were passed out. Someone had to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit. That's all."

Juliet held his gaze, her lips pressed into a thin line, as she fought the urge to smile. Despite everything, she could tell Draco had stayed because he wanted to. Maybe he didn't want to admit it, but she knew.

As Draco turned to leave, the tension between them remained thick, but it wasn't the same tension as before. It was something heavier, more complicated, like an unspoken understanding.

To put his misery to an end, she spoke, "Draco?"

He paused, glancing over his shoulder, his eyes barely meeting hers.

"Thanks," she said softly. "For staying."

Draco didn't respond. He just nodded once, curtly, before turning and grabbing a book off the side table and flipping through the pages.

As he'd ceded on saying anything further, Juliet leaned back against the pillows, her mind still reeling from the conversation. Draco Malfoy was an enigma — cold and distant one moment, and then strangely protective the next. She couldn't figure him out, but one thing was certain: whatever this was between them, it was far from over.