The Date
The walk to Hogsmeade was quiet. The crisp morning air carried with it the faint smell of damp earth and pine. Neither Juliet nor Draco said much as they left the castle and made their way down the winding path toward the village. It wasn't exactly awkward — well, maybe it was — but it wasn't unbearable either. Juliet held the Edelweiss in her hand, still slightly thrown off by the gesture.
She glanced at Draco from the corner of her eye. He walked with his usual straight-backed posture, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes fixed ahead. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about his silence today that felt different. Less hostile. More... careful, maybe?
Juliet's thoughts swirled in confusion. Why was he doing this? Why now, after all this time of snarky comments and cold stares? She wanted to ask, but every time she opened her mouth, the words got caught in her throat. Instead, she settled for walking in silence, her mind spinning as the village of Hogsmeade slowly came into view.
As they entered the bustling village, filled with students enjoying their weekend, the air grew livelier. People were laughing, darting in and out of shops, and sipping butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks. Juliet felt a pang of nostalgia for the countless times she'd been here with friends, throwing back drinks and causing a scene. Now, she was walking next to Draco Malfoy, of all people, and it felt like she was in some sort of alternate reality.
"Do you want to go in?" Draco's voice snapped her back to the present. He was nodding toward a quiet little café tucked between Honeydukes and Zonko's Joke Shop.
Juliet hesitated. She hadn't expected him to ask. "Sure," she finally said, trying to sound casual.
Inside, the café was warm and cozy, with small, round tables and flickering candles casting soft, golden light. It wasn't overly crowded, just a few other students sitting here and there, chatting over pastries and drinks. Draco led them to a table by the window, and they sat down, an awkward pause settling between them.
Juliet fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, feeling weirdly out of place. This wasn't a date, she reminded herself, despite the flowers. It couldn't be. Draco Malfoy didn't date people like her—especially not her.
"So..." Juliet began, breaking the silence, "what's this about?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's what about?"
"This." She gestured vaguely between them, trying to find the right words. "The... flowers. Asking me to come here. What do you want, Malfoy?"
He shrugged, though his jaw tightened slightly. "What, I can't ask you to come to Hogsmeade without some ulterior motive?"
Juliet narrowed her eyes. "That's not really your style, though, is it?"
Draco leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Maybe I don't always fit into your neat little boxes, Van Der Hart."
"Maybe you do," she shot back, unable to resist. "Or maybe this is about the favor you think I owe you."
Draco's face hardened. "It's not about that," he said sharply.
Juliet raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "Then what is it?"
Draco didn't respond right away. His gaze dropped to the table, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup. There was a tension in his posture, something he was holding back.
Juliet leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "Come on, Malfoy, out with it. Why am I here?"
He glanced up at her, his gray eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you always need to have a reason for everything?"
"Yes," she replied, crossing her arms. "Especially when it comes to you."
He sighed, looking away for a moment, before finally muttering, "Maybe I just wanted to... spend some time with you."
The confession hung in the air, awkward and uncertain. Juliet blinked, genuinely taken aback. "What?" she asked, her voice softer now.
Draco's eyes flicked back to hers, and for a moment, the cold, detached exterior he usually wore slipped. He seemed... almost vulnerable, like he hadn't meant to say that out loud but couldn't take it back now. "You heard me," he muttered, his voice tense.
Juliet stared at him, unsure what to say. She'd never seen Draco like this before. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Draco shrugged, looking out the window to avoid her gaze. "Maybe I wanted to get to know you. Maybe I got tired of all the crap people say about you. Or maybe..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. "Maybe I don't even know why."
Juliet blinked. For once, she was at a loss for words. Draco Malfoy, the cold Slytherin prince, wanted to spend time with her. Not because of a favor, not to get something out of her, but because... he wanted to? It didn't make sense. It didn't fit.
Juliet let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "You're serious, aren't you?"
Draco looked back at her, his expression unreadable. "Does it look like I'm joking?"
Juliet bit her lip, still trying to wrap her head around it. This whole situation felt surreal. She leaned back in her chair, studying Draco, searching for any sign that this was some kind of game, but all she found was an unfamiliar tension in his eyes, like he was waiting for her to say something.
For the first time in a long while, Juliet didn't know what to do. All she could manage was a small, hesitant smile. "Okay," she said quietly, "I guess we'll see where this goes."
The café continued to hum with the quiet murmur of conversations, but at their table, the silence between Draco and Juliet lingered. After their strange exchange, both seemed uncertain how to continue, and yet, neither moved to leave.
Draco took a sip of his drink, eyes cast downward, while Juliet absentmindedly played with the petals of the Edelweiss he had given her. She still couldn't believe he had brought her flowers. It was so un-Draco-like, and yet here they were, in a quiet café, trying to navigate this sudden, confusing shift between them.
Juliet finally broke the silence with a small chuckle. "This is weird."
Draco looked up, frowning. "What is?"
"This. Us. Sitting here." She waved her hand in the air as if that explained everything. "I mean... we're not exactly friends, Malfoy."
"No, we're not," he agreed. His voice was steady, but there was a hint of something darker underneath, like he didn't enjoy being reminded of that fact.
"So why bother?" Juliet pressed. "Why now? After all these years?"
Draco's eyes flashed, and his jaw tightened slightly. "Does everything have to be a game to you, Van Der Hart?"
Juliet raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk despite the tension. "You tell me. You've been playing them since we first met."
He didn't respond right away, but something in his posture shifted. He leaned forward slightly, his expression hardening. "Maybe I'm tired of the games. Maybe I'm sick of pretending that I don't—" He stopped himself abruptly, biting down on the rest of his sentence as if he had nearly revealed something he shouldn't have.
Juliet's smirk faded, her curiosity piqued. She tilted her head slightly, watching him with those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see too much. "That you don't what?" she asked softly.
Draco clenched his jaw and looked away, staring out the window as if the bustling crowd of students outside might offer him some escape from this moment. "Nothing," he muttered, though his tone betrayed that it was very much something.
Juliet narrowed her eyes at him, but for once, she didn't press. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what he had almost said. The idea that Draco Malfoy — Draco Malfoy — had any sort of feelings for her was too bizarre, too impossible.
Instead, she leaned back in her chair and shifted the conversation. "So," she said casually, "you've gone to all this effort to sit here with me in this cozy little café. What now? You going to lecture me about how I'm wasting my life or something?"
Draco's lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. "No. I think you've heard enough of that."
Juliet laughed, a genuine sound this time, though it held a trace of bitterness. "You have no idea." She took a sip of her drink, then glanced out the window, watching the students outside with a distant look. "It's funny, you know? Everyone always thinks they know what's best for me. That I should just... stop. Stop partying, stop drinking, stop..." She trailed off, her voice growing softer.
Draco watched her, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Maybe they're right."
"Maybe," she admitted, her tone surprisingly open. "But they don't get it. I don't want to stop. Not really."
"Why?" Draco asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Juliet didn't answer right away. She stared down at her drink, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup as if the answer lay somewhere in the swirling liquid. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost vulnerable. "Because then I'd have to deal with it."
Draco frowned, leaning slightly closer. "Deal with what?"
Juliet glanced at him, her eyes flashing with a brief, almost haunted look. "Everything."
The weight of that single word hung in the air between them, heavy with all the things left unsaid. Draco studied her for a long moment, and for once, he didn't press. He could see the cracks beneath her carefree exterior, the things she hid behind the parties and the smiles and the loud laughter. It was unsettling, seeing Juliet Van Der Hart like this — unguarded, even for a second.
He shifted in his seat, unsure of how to respond. Part of him wanted to scoff, to tell her to grow up and face her problems like everyone else. But another part of him—the part he barely acknowledged—felt a strange sense of understanding, a connection to the way she masked her own pain. After all, wasn't he doing the same thing, in his own way?
Juliet noticed his silence and forced a smirk back onto her lips. "Don't look at me like that, Malfoy. I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."
Draco's eyes darkened. "Is that why you were drinking alone last night?"
Her smirk faltered, and for a split second, she looked like she might actually answer him truthfully. But then she shrugged, the mask slipping back into place. "Everyone has bad nights."
Draco stared at her, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He hated how she could brush things off so easily, how she could pretend everything was fine even when it was so clearly not. And yet, he understood it—because he did the same thing every day.
Before he could say anything more, Juliet stood up, grabbing the Edelweiss flowers from the table. "Come on," she said, her voice light and casual again, as if they hadn't just had a moment of raw honesty. "Let's get out of here before the whole school thinks we're planning a wedding."
Draco rolled his eyes but followed her out of the café. As they stepped back into the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, the tension between them seemed to ease, if only slightly. Juliet fell into step beside him, twirling the flowers between her fingers, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.
"Thanks for the flowers, Malfoy," she said, glancing at him sideways. "Didn't know you had it in you to be so sweet."
Draco snorted. "Don't get used to it."
Juliet laughed, a real, unguarded laugh, and for a moment, Draco felt something shift between them—something subtle, but undeniable. They were still who they were, still enemies in many ways, but maybe, just maybe, they weren't as far apart as they both liked to pretend.