Disclaimer: If you recognize someone, they belong to JKR. The others are all creations of mine to fill the gaps. Plus, any similarities are accidental and completely unintentional.

A/N: The Quidditch Trials is Part 1 of a four part story. It and its companions are a continuation of the world I began way back with my original Ted/Victoire series. While this trilogy will stand entirely on its own and does not require you to check out previous stories, those that have will notice details travel in between. I personally would recommend starting from the beginning of the T/V series, but I also took the time to write everything, so I obviously want you to do that. :) You don't have to.

Summary: Dominique Weasley has waited ages to visit the annual Quidditch Trials, which at seventeen she's finally old enough to attend. Before her last year at Hogwarts is set to begin, she's off to spend a week with the best amateur Quidditch players around. But Qudditch isn't the only thing she'll face as the week brings out all sorts of new feelings and experiences.

Personal A/N: I'm back! And so happy to be back. This story has been a long time coming and I'm happy to have actually gotten fingers to keyboard to make it happen. For those who have been with me since early on, here's hoping I don't disappoint because I know you've waited awhile for this update.

While I plan on keeping general author's notes in the story, I've noticed some of the more random ones don't always age well. This is why I plan on putting those in my Profile after postings. This would also include answers to questions people may ask or general shout outs and comments. They'll be there if you feel like checking them out.

You guys have always been awesome (so awesome) and I enjoy the reviews and feedback tremendously. It keeps me going. It brought me back! Thanks to all who have kept in touch over the years. You were the ones who really did make this story happen. :)

Prologue:

"It's probably better if we end it."

There she stood, feeling completely and utterly gobsmacked. Dominique Weasley was usually the one to deliver a crushing blow with some razor sharp wit; not be the one on the receiving end. She rarely let her guard down long enough to let other people to truly rattle her. The walls she'd built around herself were tall and practically impenetrable. That was the way she lived her life. But that was before she'd fucked up and stupidly let someone in.

It was a rainy and terribly humid July evening. The sun had been blocked entirely by the clouds, but it was still apparent that night hadn't quite arrived yet. Before her, averting his gaze to the ground as his dark hair hung low in front of his eyes, Henry Davies stood outside his home. He couldn't even properly look at her. Coward. The least he could do was have conviction in his words.

They'd been together—if one could truly call it that—for roughly nine months now. Their relationship hadn't been conventional, but nothing about the two of them ever had been. She'd only started paying attention to him in the first place due to a flagrant foul he'd committed on the Quidditch pitch years ago that nearly split her head open. She'd paid him back as soon as the match had ended by means of kneeing him in crotch in front of everyone watching.

They'd loathed each other after that. She hated him, his jet black hair, his stupid face, his tall and lanky frame, the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he flew on his broom. Just hearing someone mention him in conversation was enough to make her jaw twitch. They often said every cruel and horrible thing they could think of to one another. There had been nothing off limits when it came to their war of words, and they both fought that battle for years.

"This thing is," Henry mumbled as they continued to stand there, "we've obviously had an expiration date. You knew that."

That was fucked up way of phrasing it, despite knowing where he was going with this. Had she expected to marry him and spend the rest of her days by his side? Absolutely not. The idea had never once crossed her mind. They weren't that kind of couple. She didn't love him, but she had some sort of feelings for him. She'd gotten so used to having them that she'd assumed they'd keep at it a bit longer. It was easy.

When things between them had started to change, no one was more surprised than her. A classic tale of rivals falling for each other, but not nearly as happily ever after as some of the books would have led her to believe. She could say that for sure now. At the time, it had all happened so fast. One minute they were fighting as usual; the next, he'd kissed her in a corridor and taken her completely by surprise. She'd had to fight off the urge to hit him out of reflex. Even worse was that she'd liked it. She'd liked the feeling of lips on hers and his body pressed against her. She had liked it even more when he dared to push the kiss further. She experienced an entirely new set of feelings that day; many of which were causing reactions in multiple parts of her body.

"I knew..." Dominique finally said, now finding her words but feeling stupid saying them. "I knew you'd been acting oddly since graduation. But you always claimed I was mental." She let her gaze harden. "Why didn't you say something months ago? Back when you were obviously getting bored?"

He shrugged, the sound of rain hitting the pavement all around them. "If you thought I was getting bored, why didn't you say something?"

"I did say something!" she snapped, though she hadn't said it explicitly. She had told him he was acting differently; she'd called him out for wanting to spend all of his time with his friends—friends he knew she hated. She had suspected he was doing it on purpose, spending time with people he knew she wouldn't be caught dead around. She should have trusted her gut.

After that first kiss in the corridor she had found herself frequently returning to him for more, despite her better judgement. It wasn't a relationship—it didn't resemble any of the things her friends had—but she didn't know what to call it. In the beginning, they'd barely spoken to each other; they would spend weeks acting perfectly detached from one another. When they did come together, it was only to fool around and snog. They'd barely speak, but they could always find time to pull into a corner of a deserted corridor and feel each other up. Physically they moved fast, with touching and snogging quickly leading to whatever else they—quite literally—could get their hands on.

There was an insatiable nature when it came to the physical aspect that Dominique couldn't get enough of. She'd never experienced anything like it; she'd never been with anyone before. He was her first everything. They way he kissed her, the way he touched her—she'd never known someone could make her feel wanted. Emotionally or socially, they still barely knew each other; physically though, she could tell you just how many freckles he had on his inner thigh or give you a perfect description of his orgasm face. It made the lack of any other connection they had seem worth it.

She had never in her life wanted a boyfriend, even once they'd started messing around. The whole idea of one seemed like something she could never quite get behind—the affection, the commitment, the responsibility—she didn't want any of that. But she had been surprised to find herself wanting something more after months of the physical. She wasn't quite sure what more meant, though if you asked her friends, they were convinced it meant she had feelings for him and wanted things to get more real. She refused to accept that and denied it to anyone who brought it up.

"Whatever you say," Henry mumbled again, his tone sounding irritated, as if this conversation was now inconveniencing him. What a prat. She'd managed to suppress those familiar feelings of rage toward him for nine months, but they were suddenly coming back with a vengeance. It was starting to feel like the old days.

"You're such a dick," she said, forcing herself to not break down in front of him. It was hitting her now, the wave of emotions that she'd been fighting the last few minutes. She didn't cry in public—that was a hard rule for her. She sure as hell wasn't going to start in front of him. She would never give him that satisfaction.

He sighed loudly, though it wasn't entirely cruel. "This was always a thing of convenience. You knew that. You're going back to school soon. I'm not. What's the point? I'm doing you a favor."

"A favor? I don't leave for another month," she snapped, though it sounded pitiful the second it had left her mouth. It was as if she was trying to reason with him when he'd already made up his mind. "And you know bloody well, this was more than a convenience. Nine months isn't a fucking convenience."

In retrospect, their relationship had never been good. The signs of him pulling away were now clear when she looked back. Once graduation and parties and celebrations started, he had begun to change and distance himself. She had thought that maybe once summer started, things would relax a bit since they'd have so much more free time, but that wasn't the case either. She'd barely seen him this summer. Evidently, he had a reason for that.

"You're right," he conceded, though he didn't sound entirely convincing. "But I can't help but feel it's run its course. It was a good ride."

A good ride? A good fucking ride? He was comparing what they'd just spent the last nine months doing together to a day trip on the Hogwarts fucking Express. She wanted to scream at him; to tell him how much he was fucking things up. How they had a good thing; they could be together, but have no real attachment or responsibilities to each other. How they didn't have to be one of those stereotypical couples who followed all the rules. They matched well with their weird quirks and brash personalities. She wanted to say all of this to him, but if she so much as tried, she would have cried. She was barely holding it in as it were.

"Fuck you," she said, turning on her heels and walking several paces into the rain. If he'd said anything else or tried to stop her, she didn't know. Within seconds, she'd already Apparated away.