Pairing: Theo Nott X Fem! Character X Cedric Diggory
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : Jules spent years hating Theodore Nott. He was cruel, arrogant, and always knew exactly how to get under her skin. But in fifth year, everything changes when the two agree to a fake dating arrangement to make certain people jealous. What starts as teasing and stolen glances slowly turns into late-night conversations, lingering touches, and feelings neither of them were supposed to catch. Theodore becomes Jules’ escape from the pressure, expectations, and loneliness that follow her everywhere. But some people are destined to destroy each other no matter how hard they try to hold on.
warnings/tags: 18+ content (read responsibly!) fake dating trope, enemies to lovers , swearing, emotional constipation, sexual tension/ suggestive banter + character "glowup" & kissing.
Trigger warnings will be placed before chapters when necessary.
Please read responsibly ♡
notes: this chapter hold a veryyyyyy dear place in my heart & I hope you guys get to adore just as much as I do! Wanted to give yall a background of Jules & Cedric!
December 25th 1994 Last Christmas
Snow flakes danced in the pale morning light. Juliet watched them melt against the glass of the train compartment, her heart fluttering in that helpless, stupid way it always did whenever she thought of him. Cedric had asked her—actually asked her—to spend part of Christmas with him and his family.
She'd tried to play it cool, of course.
"Oh, right, yes, sounds nice, I suppose."
Now, remembering it, she cringed, she'd practically combusted.
By the time the train pulled into Ottery St. Catchpole, her stomach was a knot of nerves and excitement. She stepped onto the snowy platform, clutching her bag, breath puffing into the cold air.
Cedric was leaning against a wooden post, scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, hair dusted with snowflakes. He straightened at the sight of her, a smile spreading across his face like sunrise.
"Hey, pretty girl," he said, waving with that easy, warm gesture that never failed to undo her.
Her heart did that ridiculous flip it always did. She walked toward him, and he pulled her into a tight, warm hug that made the winter air feel insignificant.
"You alright?" he murmured against her hair. "Journey not too miserable, I hope?"
Juliet laughed softly. "Only nearly froze to death, thanks for asking." She admired the rosy flush on his cheeks—he always went pink in the winter.
Cedric brushed a loose curl from her face. "Should've told me. I'd have brought a blanket."
"And you're freezing," he countered with a grin. "Come on. Mum's been buzzing since dawn."
He lifted her bag before she could protest, swinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
"You do know I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own bag, right?"
"Of course," he said, smirking. "But you won't, because you have me."
"Just let me be polite and carry my girl's bag," he cut in. "And I like helping you, so don't argue."
Her cheeks warmed, but she let him have this one. Cedric opened the passenger door of the old blue car parked nearby and waited until she was inside before shutting it behind her.
The car heater hissed to life, filling the space with warm, cozy air faintly scented of peppermint. Cedric slid into the driver's seat and shot her a grin before starting the engine.
"Mum insisted I pick you up myself," he said as they pulled away. "She said it'd be 'rude' to let a guest Floo when the roads are perfectly clear."
Juliet smirked. "She doesn't trust you not to crash, does she?"
Cedric glanced over, mock offended. "I'll have you know, Jules, I'm a brilliant driver."
"You nearly went into a hedge last time."
"That lamppost came out of nowhere."
He cut her off with a look. "Carry on, and I'm turning around and sending you home on the next train."
She laughed properly, and Cedric's whole face softened. He loved that sound; she knew he did—it always made him look like he'd won something when he heard it.
The drive through Ottery St. Catchpole was quiet and peaceful: cottages with smoking chimneys, snowy hedgerows, and faint glimmers of Christmas lights in every window. Juliet let her head fall lightly against the cold window, eyes fluttering shut.
"Tired?" Cedric asked gently.
"You," she murmured before she could stop herself.
Cedric blinked, taken aback, then smiled that slow, warm smile he only reserved for her. "Good. Because I've been thinking about you for weeks."
Her stomach flipped. "Cedric..."
He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, suddenly bashful. "Look, you don't have to say anything. I just... wanted you here. For Christmas. It felt right."
Juliet's throat tightened. He said things like that so easily, like honesty came naturally to him. Like he didn't know how dangerous it was for someone like her to fall for someone like him.
She looked out at the falling snow, voice barely above a whisper. "It feels right to me too."
Cedric turned onto a narrow lane lined with frosted bushes, stopping in front of a warm-looking stone cottage glowing with golden light. Smoke curled from the chimney, and a pine wreath hung on the door.
As soon as they stepped up the path, the front door swung open.
"Juliet!" Claire Diggory rushed forward, apron dusted with flour. "There you are! I was about to send Amos after you. Thought you'd driven into a lake."
Cedric groaned. "Really, Mum?"
Claire kissed Juliet's cheek warmly. "Darling, come in — you must be freezing ."
"Only a bit," Juliet laughed.
Amos appeared behind Claire, booming, "Merry Christmas, Juliet! Ignore him — he did drive into a ditch three years ago."
"Once!" Cedric cried in despair.
And just like that, the Diggory house wrapped Juliet in warmth. Fairy lights twinkled along the bannister, a giant Christmas tree stood proudly in the sitting room, and the smell of cinnamon and something delicious wafted from the kitchen.
Claire clapped her hands. "Cedric, show her to the guest room — and don't keep her too long. Dinner's nearly done."
Cedric took Juliet's bag upstairs, calling over his shoulder, "Mum, she's not a tourist! She knows where things are!"
Claire ignored him. "Juliet, dear, make sure he hasn't left a Quidditch kit on the bed again."
Juliet snorted. "Wouldn't surprise me."
Cedric's voice echoed back, "It was one time!"
Juliet followed him up the stairs, smiling despite herself.
Cedric pushed open a familiar door—his room, warm and neat as always, smelling faintly of cedar and peppermint.
He set her bag down and turned to her, hands in his pockets, looking a little shy.
His voice softened. "I really am glad you're here."
Juliet stepped closer, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "Me too."
He let out a small breath, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing lightly along her skin. The warmth of his hand against the winter chill made her eyes flutter shut.
"Can I...?" he whispered.
Cedric kissed her—gentle at first, then deeper, warmer, pulling her closer as snow fell softly outside his window. Slow, sweet, perfect.
When they pulled apart, Juliet's heart was thudding wildly.
Cedric rested his forehead against hers. "Merry Christmas, pretty girl."
Juliet's lips curved into a smile she couldn't stop. "Merry Christmas, Ced."
Claire's voice floated up the stairs.
"Dinner, you two! And Cedric, if you're making her late, I swear—"
Cedric groaned. "She thinks I'm trapping you in my room."
Juliet shrugged, teasing. "Maybe you are."
His ears went pink. "Come on, before she comes up here with a wooden spoon."
They headed downstairs, warm light spilling into the hallway. The table was already set: golden candles flickering, steaming dishes laid out like a feast—beef pie, roasted potatoes, honey-glazed parsnips, thick gravy. Proper Christmas comfort.
Claire beamed. "Sit, sit! Ced, don't hover like you haven't eaten in a year."
Juliet took the seat beside Cedric, who nudged her knee gently—a silent you alright? She nudged back, a quiet yes, I'm fine.
Amos lifted his glass. "To Christmas," he said warmly, "and to having Juliet with us this year."
Juliet flushed. "Thank you. It's lovely, truly."
"Oh, nonsense," Claire said, waving a hand. "We're thrilled. Cedric hasn't shut up about you all term."
Juliet choked on a laugh. Cedric buried his head in his hands, mortified.
Amos grinned. "He even cleaned his room for you."
"I always clean my room," Cedric muttered.
"You do not," Claire said. "The last time I went in there, I found a sock fused to the underside of your bed."
Juliet laughed—bright, uncontained—and Cedric shot her an incredulous look.
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"Sorry," she said, still smiling. "But a fused sock, Ced? Really?"
"It wasn't fused—! It was—! Dad, tell them it wasn't—"
Amos shrugged. "Looked fused to me, son."
Cedric looked personally injured, and Juliet squeezed his hand under the table to comfort him, still giggling.
Dinner settled into a comfortable rhythm. Plates passed, candles flickered, warmth radiated through the room.
"So, Juliet," Amos said, slicing into his pie, "has Cedric shown you the broom shed yet?"
Juliet raised an eyebrow. "The shed full of half-broken brooms? Yes."
"That shed birthed a young prodigy," Amos proclaimed. "Cedric was flying before he could walk."
"I was not," Cedric said quickly.
"You were," Claire confirmed. "You got hold of one of Amos's practice brooms and it lifted you halfway up the orchard."
Juliet's eyes widened. "What, at three?"
Cedric groaned, covering his face. "Mum, please—"
"You were shrieking with joy," she continued fondly. "I was shrieking with terror. Amos was chasing the broom with a rake."
Juliet laughed so hard her stomach hurt. "A rake?"
"It was the nearest thing I could grab!" Amos said defensively. "Didn't think I'd be fathering a human Bludger."
Cedric nudged Juliet's arm. "Don't listen to them. They exaggerate everything."
"Oh, sweetheart, we really don't," Claire said sweetly.
Juliet leaned her shoulder into Cedric's. "This is brilliant. Please continue."
Cedric whispered in her ear, mock warning in his voice, "You're going to pay for this, pretty girl."
His hand slid over to rest on her knee—just close enough to make her breath catch.
She shot him a look meant to be stern and utterly failed. "Behave," she mouthed.
Juliet nudged him, grinning.
Claire continued obliviously, "Remember the Christmas he tried to enchant his sled, Amos?"
Amos chuckled. "Shot straight into the neighbour's goose pen. Nearly caused an international incident."
Juliet covered her mouth, laughing again. Cedric slumped dramatically in his chair.
"Why did I invite you again?" he muttered.
Juliet leaned closer. "For entertainment, clearly."
His eyes were warm, glowing, and Juliet felt that familiar tug in her chest—the one that had terrified her for so long. She'd finally stopped running from it.
Claire began clearing plates. "Juliet, darling, could you help me in the kitchen? Cedric will only drop things."
Juliet rose, squeezing his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll tell her all about that lamppost."
Cedric stared, scandalized. "Jules!"
Juliet laughed and followed Claire into the cozy kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes to go back to the dining room while Cedric and Amos enjoyed their first round of food.
"So, Juliet dear," Claire said gently, "tell us about your family. We've heard bits from Cedric, but only bits." While they both sat back down
Juliet's smile softened. "Er... well… Astoria my older sister—you've probably heard of her."
"Very talented girl," Claire said kindly. "Top marks."
Juliet nodded. "Yes, she's brilliant. Always has been."
"And your parents?" Amos asked, curious but gentle.
"They're... good people," she said finally. "Just... strict. They expect a lot."
Claire nodded. "Families can be a lot of things. Good, but difficult sometimes."
Juliet exhaled slowly. "Exactly that."
Claire reached over, patting Juliet's hand. "Well, you're safe from rules tonight, darling. You're family here."
Something in Juliet's chest softened, achey and warm.
"Thank you," she murmured. "Really. Thank you."
Cedric's hand tightened around hers beneath the table—quiet, steady, proud.
When the last plates were cleared and Amos levitated leftovers into enchanted containers, Claire nudged Juliet toward the kitchen.
"Come on, darling—help me with dessert. Cedric can stay put. He's only useful when there's Quidditch involved."
Juliet grinned. "It's alright. I could use a break from his heroic broom mishaps."
In the warm kitchen, counters cluttered with baking tins, half-iced gingerbread, and a massive trifle layered like stained glass, Claire handed Juliet a tea towel.
"Just dry those bowls for me, love."
Juliet took it, letting the hum of the Diggory kitchen settle around her. Claire moved efficiently, flicking her wand to stir custard and check the oven.
After a moment, she spoke softly. "You know... Cedric's never brought a girl home for Christmas before."
Juliet froze mid-swipe. "Oh. I—didn't know that."
Claire smiled. "He's had crushes, little things. But he's never asked anyone to spend the holidays with us. That's special."
Juliet swallowed, pulse racing. "I—I didn't think it meant that much."
"It does. To all of us. But especially to him."
Juliet looked down at the bowl she was drying, suddenly shy. "He's... incredibly kind."
"He cares for you very much," Claire said gently. "I see the way he looks at you—like he's already trying to memorize everything."
Juliet's breath caught. "I care for him too."
Claire smiled knowingly. "I know."
"Oh, sweetheart," Claire said fondly, "I've been married long enough to recognize young love when it's standing in my hallway, blushing like it's caught stealing biscuits."
Juliet laughed, soft and embarrassed.
Before she could reply, familiar arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against a broad, warm chest.
"Are you stealing my mother from me?" Cedric murmured into her ear.
Juliet jumped. "Cedric! Merlin—don't sneak up like that."
Claire rolled her eyes affectionately. "Honestly. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"
"I did stay put," Cedric said, leaning down to kiss Juliet's temple before straightening abruptly. "For approximately forty-six seconds."
Juliet grinned. "That's a new record."
Cedric narrowed his eyes playfully. "Careful. I'll drop you in a snowbank."
Claire intervened smoothly. "If either of you go outside right now, you'll slip and break something valuable. We all know how clumsy Cedric can be-“
Claire waved him off. "Go on, both of you. Amos is making hot coco. Cedric, stop hovering over Juliet like she'll vanish."
Cedric flushed but took Juliet's hand anyway, tugging her gently back toward the sitting room.
As they walked, Juliet whispered, "Your mum is going to tease you forever."
Cedric squeezed her hand. "tell me about it"
They reached the doorway, the glow of the fireplace spilling onto the carpet. The Christmas tree sparkled, the room warm and scented with pine and cinnamon.
Cedric leaned in, brushing her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
"You doing alright?" he asked softly.
Juliet looked at him — truly looked — at the boy who had kissed her upstairs like she was something precious, who had invited her home like she belonged.
She nodded. "Yeah. I'm... really alright."
Cedric smiled, gentle and relieved. "Good. Because I want to show you something."
"You'll see." He tugged her lightly toward the stairs, excitement bubbling in his voice. "Come on."
Juliet let him pull her along, laughing.
She had no idea where he was taking her —
but she trusted him completely.
Cedric tugged Juliet up the last few stairs, stopping in the narrow landing where a single window overlooked the snowy orchard behind the house. Everything outside was still, quiet, blanketed in white — the kind of winter night that looked like it was holding its breath.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
Juliet blinked. "Now? It's freezing."
"Yes Now," Cedric said, as if that explained everything. "Come on. It's perfect out."
He was already pulling on his boots by the front door when she caught up. Juliet bundled herself into her coat and scarf, and Cedric opened the door just enough for a rush of icy air to slip in.
She shivered. "You're mad."
He grinned. "Only a bit. Come on, pretty girl."
They stepped out into the snow.
The world outside was utterly silent — no wind, no voices, just the soft crunch of their steps. Cedric laced their fingers together, pulling her closer as they walked down the path toward the orchard.
Moonlight caught on the snow-laden branches, turning them silver. Their breath lingered in fragile clouds.
Juliet's voice was soft. "It's beautiful."
Cedric glanced down at her. "Yeah. It is."
She looked up just in time to catch him staring at her instead of the scenery.
"Cedric," she whispered, suddenly breathless. "Stop looking at me like that."
"I can't," he said simply.
Her cheeks burned hotter than the winter air would ever allow.
They walked deeper into the orchard until they reached the clearing where the snow stretched untouched, smooth as silk. Cedric stopped, turning to face her properly.
"Jules," he said quietly, hands still linked with hers, "I, brought you out here for a reason."
Cedric took a breath — not nervous, exactly, but careful.
The way someone speaks when they're carrying something important.
"I didn't just ask you to come for Christmas because it 'felt right.' I mean, it did — it really did — but there's more to it." He swallowed. "I like you. A lot. More than I've liked anyone."
Juliet felt something inside her soften, melt, ache.
"You didn't have to bring me out in a blizzard to tell me," she whispered, a small laugh escaping her.
"Yeah, well," Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “Yeah, well,” Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “if I’d said it at dinner, Mum would’ve cried and Dad would’ve started talking about weddings.”
Juliet snorted. "Probably."
Cedric squeezed her hands. "But I'm serious. Jules... when you're around, I feel—" He searched for the word. "—lighter. Happier. Like everything makes more sense."
"And I know your family's strict," he said softly, "and I know you've had to hold a lot in. But with me, you don't have to do that. You can just... be."
Juliet looked away, blinking hard as the cold nipped at her lashes. "Cedric..."
He cupped her cheek gently, turning her face back toward him.
"You don't have to say anything back," he murmured. "I just needed you to know."
Juliet leaned into his hand, heart pounding, throat tight.
"I like you too," she whispered. "More than I should. More than I planned."
Cedric's smile was slow, warm, disbelieving. "Yeah?"
He kissed her again — deeper this time, snowflakes catching on his eyelashes, their breath warm between them. Her hands curled into the front of his coat, and Cedric pressed his forehead to hers when they parted, both laughing softly for no reason at all.
"Come on," he whispered. "Before your nose freezes off."
They walked back to the house with their hands still tangled together.
Later that night, after coco
The house settled into quiet.
Cedric poked his head into the living room. "Jules? You awake?"
Barely. She was curled under a knitted blanket, warm and heavy-eyed. "Mmhm."
"Come upstairs," Cedric said softly. "I've got something for you."
"what are-" she said before he cut her off
He offered his hand. "Come on."
She followed him to his room, the only light coming from the little string of fairy lights above his bed. It cast everything in soft gold — warm and intimate and very Cedric.
He gestured for her to sit on the edge of his bed.
Cedric rummaged through a drawer, clearly trying to be subtle and absolutely failing. Then he sat beside her, holding a small wrapped box, tied with silver ribbon.
"I got you something. I know we said no gifts, but—"
"—I panicked," he finished.
Juliet laughed softly. "Open yours first."
She pulled a small package from her bag and handed it to him. His eyebrows shot up. "You panicked too?"
Cedric opened it carefully — and froze.
Inside was a Quidditch glove. His glove. Repaired. Polished. Restitched by hand in places he'd torn crashing into the pitch wall that one memorable practice.
His voice went soft. " you fixed it?"
She nodded shyly. "You said it was your favourite pair. I thought... you might want to keep it."
Cedric swallowed hard, emotion tightening his voice. "I love it. Thank you."
Then he nudged the silver box toward her.
Juliet unwrapped it — slowly — and when she opened the lid, her breath caught.
A small silver star on a delicate chain.
Cedric's voice was quiet. "You've always liked the stars. And you... you feel like one. To me."
Juliet's throat closed. "Cedric... this is beautiful."
He reached behind her carefully, fingers brushing the back of her neck as he clasped it. Juliet shivered — not from cold.
"Perfect," he murmured. "It suits you."
They stayed like that, close, quiet, breath mingling.
Cedric whispered, "Do you want to go to bed? It's late and. you were already falling asleep "
Juliet shook her head slowly.
“Stay here. Just… stay with me a bit.”
They lay down on his bed, facing one another, blankets pulled over them. Cedric tucked an arm beneath her waist, gentle but sure.
Juliet rested her forehead against his collarbone, breathing in cedar and peppermint and warmth.
"You comfortable?" he murmured into her hair.
She nodded, eyes already drifting closed. "Very."
Cedric pulled her closer, protective, soft.
"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."
Juliet's voice was sleepy and sincere.
The snow fell silently outside his window.
And for the first time in a very long time, Juliet fell asleep feeling completely safe —
wrapped in warmth, in arms that loved her, in a moment she would never forget.
