Hook
Juliet returned to the ball after a while, the warmth and laughter of the Great Hall swallowing her up as soon as she stepped back inside. The music was still loud, people were still dancing, and nothing had changed — except for one thing.
There, on the dance floor, was Draco. But he wasn't alone.
He was dancing with another girl. Another tall, leggy blonde who looked like she had just walked out of a fashion magazine. Juliet recognized her immediately — one of the girls from Ravenclaw, the kind who was always surrounded by admirers — much less admirers than Juliet, though, as she'd liked to add. The girl was laughing, twirling in Draco's arms as if they'd been dancing together all night.
Juliet felt her stomach twist, a strange sensation washing over her. She had never been jealous before. Not once in her life. It wasn't something she understood — why should she, when she always got everything she wanted? When she was always everyone's first choice? But as she watched Draco move with the girl, a feeling she couldn't quite name settled in her chest.
She wasn't used to being replaced. And yet, here Draco was, acting like she hadn't even been his date to begin with.
The room felt suddenly too loud, too crowded, too much. Juliet's heart pounded in her ears, and her fingers itched to do something — anything to take back the control she always had. So, she did what she knew best. She drank.
Without a second thought, Juliet downed a bottle and strode across the room, her eyes darting toward a group of boys lingering by the punch table. They were older students — handsome, broad-shouldered, all staring at her the moment she approached. She flashed them a wild grin, her hand sliding into one of their arms as she pulled him toward the dance floor.
"Let's dance," she said, her voice dripping with confidence. The boy didn't hesitate, eager to comply.
And just like that, Juliet let loose. She danced with every guy in the room, her body moving with reckless abandon. She laughed louder, twirled harder, her skirt flying as she threw herself into the music. Every time a song ended, she'd down a couple of shots and found a new dance partner, not caring who it was as long as she wasn't alone.
But no matter how many guys she danced with, her eyes kept darting back to Draco. She caught glimpses of him in between the whirls and spins of the dance floor. He was still with that one blonde, still twirling her, still laughing in that quiet, smug way of his. And every time she saw him, something inside her burned hotter, angrier.
By the time the night had stretched on, Juliet was far from sober. The alcohol she had smuggled earlier was long gone, and the boys she had danced with had all blurred together in her mind. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind clouded with anger, jealousy, and the unfamiliar sting of being overlooked.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. The walls of the Great Hall felt like they were closing in, and her head spun from the music, the lights, the endless noise. Without a word to anyone, Juliet slipped out of the hall, disappearing into the darkness of the castle corridors.
She wandered aimlessly for a while, the silence of the empty hallways a stark contrast to the chaos of the ball. The cold air bit at her skin, sobering her up just enough to realize she was alone. Truly alone. Her vision blurred with the haze of too much alcohol and frustration, and she stumbled through the corridors, not caring where she ended up.
Hours passed, and by the time anyone noticed she was missing, Juliet was nowhere to be found.
Back in the Great Hall, whispers started to spread. "Where's Juliet?" "Has anyone seen her?" Even Pansy and Daphne, who had been laughing and dancing, now wore worried expressions as they searched the room for their friend.
Draco, still with his blonde partner, cast a glance around the room, his smirk faltering just slightly as he realized something was off. Juliet was gone. No trace of her. And for some reason, despite himself, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in his gut.
He told himself he didn't care. But as the night wore on, and still, no one had found her, that lie became harder and harder to believe.