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

A/N: Something Found is Part 2 of a four part story. I DO NOT recommend continuing without checking out Part 1 The Quidditch Trials. You'll be missing things if you don't. Don't miss things.

This story and its companions are a continuation of the world I began way back with my original Ted/Victoire series. While this trilogy will stand completely on its own and does not require you to check out the previous stories, those that have will notice that 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. I obviously want you to do that. :)

"You're home," said Henry Davies, standing there with his hands in his pockets and an oddly kind smile on his face. "I'd been coming by all week."

Dominique Weasley continued to stare at him from her front door. She didn't even blink, not until she realized she was holding her breath and her lungs were starting to burn. Why was her ex here? What did he want? She didn't know what to think or say, so she did the only thing that made sense. She slowly shut the door in his face.

"Who was it?" her best friend, Sarah Kirke, had asked from the living room.

She didn't turn away from the door. She was staring at it with the intensity that one might if they were studying for an exam; trying to memorize every detail. "Henry."

Sarah inhaled sharply from somewhere behind her. That had been anticipated. Sarah wasn't fond of Henry—none of her friends were after the breakup. Henry Davies, her ex...what? Boyfriend wasn't the right word, but he was something. He'd chucked her weeks before and it had shaken her up, but she'd been on the mend recently. She'd gone on holiday to France and also to the Quidditch Trials, where she'd managed to hook up with one of the best looking guys there while also realizing there were other—better—boys in the universe. It had taught her there was life after Henry. She didn't need him.

"What did he want?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know. I shut the door."

"Is he still there?"

"I can't see through the door."

Sarah went to check through the window, though it was unnecessary since Henry knocked once again. Both girls exchanged looks. Dominique was at a loss. She'd assumed she'd kicked him out of her system, but now all she felt were conflicting desires for him to both leave and stay at the exact same time. How could she want to see him but also want to run away?

"Tell him to fuck off," Sarah said, glancing back out the window. "Want me to? You know Louis will."

Louis, her brother, who was currently upstairs showering. He hated Henry as much as Sarah did. He'd never been a fan, but he'd always kept his opinion mostly to himself; he was one of the few people that understood the more you pushed her, the more she felt the need to do the very opposite. It was how she worked. If he knew Henry was downstairs, he'd have something to say about it.

Everything was suddenly happening so quickly. Why was he here? What did he want? He'd been coming by all week? That's what he'd said. What could he possibly have to say that warranted a single trip here, let alone multiple? Her mind was reeling. She had to talk to him. He'd looked good from the ten seconds she'd caught a glimpse. Shit, why did that matter?

"I…" Dominique said, taking a deep breath. "I'll do it. I'll go talk to him."

"You don't need to talk to him," Sarah spat. "Just tell him to go fuck himself—"

"Hey, love," Louis suddenly called from the top of the stairs. He'd emerged from the shower with only his trousers on and carrying around a towel in his hand. He was smiling widely, his eyes on his girlfriend. "You're a sight. I missed you."

"Heeey," Sarah said, now looking conflicted. She evidently wanted to see Louis, but clearly felt compelled to see what was happening here.

"Come up," Louis called back down before disappearing from sight. If Dominique knew them, they would probably be up there for a bit. If it took them a half an hour to say goodbye on a normal day, it would take them just as long to say hello again. There would probably be a lot less clothes this time.

"Just a sec," Sarah called, still staring at Dominique. "Whatever Davies has to say it doesn't matter. You know that."

She shrugged, feeling perfectly capable of handling this on her own. She wasn't a child and she wasn't afraid of him; she'd just been caught off guard before. "Lou's waiting. You should go and see him. It's been a week. Isn't that the longest the two of you have ever been apart?"

"Dominique."

"Sarah," she mimicked before another knock followed. She didn't hesitate that time and reached to pull on the handle. Henry was still standing there, looking confused, but she felt far more collected this time now.

His eyes went straight to Sarah, who wasn't even attempting not to glare at him. "Sarah," he said without much sincerity. The feeling of distaste was mutual.

She didn't respond; she instead made a spectacle of scoffing before turning to walk up the stairs. Dominique distinctly heard the word, "Arsehole" as she walked away.

Dominique turned back to him, having caught him on the tailend of an eyeroll that was presumably aimed at Sarah. He'd gotten a haircut since the last time she'd seen him. Before it had been longer—past his ears with his fringe hanging in his face. He'd cleaned it up a bit and taken it a bit shorter. It looked nice. She could actually see his eyes now.

"Look," he began. "I know you probably don't want to see me."

"What do you want?" she asked, stepping out onto the porch and shutting the door behind her to avoid any stray ears that may be trying to eavesdrop. "Must be important if you felt the need to come by daily."

"I was hoping to talk to you," he said, watching as she walked straight past him toward a nearby chair. "I guess you were out of town."

"France."

"Right," he said, nodding his head. "You'd mentioned that. I'd forgotten."

That wasn't surprising. When did he ever listen? She sat down and stared at him. Now that she properly looked at him, he was dressed nicer than usual. His clothes looked newer—not his usual old t-shirts and beat-up trainers. He must have been shopping lately.

He went and took the seat beside her, though didn't immediately say anything. He was absently running his index finger up and down his thumb as he stared out at the sea in the distance.

"Are you going to talk?" she asked. "You came here for some reason."

He turned to look at her. "I feel I fucked up."

"What else is new?" she muttered, leaning back in her chair and glancing out at the sea herself. "You're a fuck up. It's what you do."

"I deserve that."

"'You deserve that," she mumbled to herself with a small laugh. "Don't even get me started on the things you deserve."

The front door opened then, and out came Louis. He was fully dressed now with Sarah in tow. Dominique was genuinely surprised to see them, seeing as she'd been convinced they would try and get in a quickie before Diagon Alley. It seemed they were both more concerned with what was happening here. She almost felt special to know that she trumped their reunion sex.

"Weasley," Henry said, throwing Louis an obligatory—but clearly forced—nod. "It's been a bit."

"Why are you here?" Louis said.

"Louis, stop," Dominique said, throwing him a look. She didn't need a protector stepping in. What was he going to do? Rough Henry up? That would be a sight. Tell him off? She was fully capable of doing that on her own and he knew it. Yes, he was clearly the better wandsman, but she had a wand, too. She knew how to use it. Not that it would come to that.

"Nic," Louis said, "can I talk to you?"

"No," she said, still staring at him. "I'm in the middle of another conversation right now."

His face tensed up. He was annoyed and she knew it. She knew it better than anyone because she caused that look more often than anyone else did.

She chose to ignore him. "And it's a private conversation. Aren't you going to Diagon Alley anyway?"

"Are you not coming?" Sarah asked.

"No, she's coming," Louis said without missing a beat.

"Go on without me, I'll meet you in a bit. It'll give you two some alone time. You haven't seen each other in a week, after all."

Louis pulled a face. "You can't possibly...?" He laughed rather humorlessly.

She and her brother stared at each other; silently daring the other one to push this. If he, for one second, thought that he was going to intimidate her in any way, shape, or form, he had another thing coming. Did he hit his head and forget who he was dealing with?

"Fine, fuck it. Do what you want." He looked over at Henry before turning back to his sister. "I swear to Merlin—"

"Bye, Lou," Dominique interrupted, throwing him a blunt wave.

It was Sarah who tugged on his arm and pulled him, rather begrudgingly, toward the steps and out into the garden. She could distinctly hear her tell him, "You know you can't argue with her when she's—" but they both disappeared the next moment; gone without a trace. She was going to get an earful from both of them later—especially her brother—but she didn't care. Let them.

"I won't keep you from your plans," Henry said, causing her to look back at him. "Wouldn't want to give your brother anymore reason to hate me."

"As if you give a shit what Louis thinks."

He laughed at that. "No, I really don't…" He shrugged. "Look, I know things ended shitty, but I've been thinking about you constantly."

She looked back out at the sea. As much as she enjoyed hearing that in a selfish way, she couldn't help but think he wanted something. Thinking about her constantly? He'd barely thought about her when they were together. Why would that have changed?

"I get that we don't make sense and that no one in our lives wants us to be—" He gestured between the two of them, "you know."

She noticed he was doing a masterful job of not using any terms that would otherwise refer to them being together or a couple. It was almost a skill how much he avoided talking about an actual connection.

"But shit, I feel like we've got something, you know?"

"I had considered that, yeah." She turned to look at him. "I still don't understand why you're here. You don't want to get back together, because we were never really together in the first place. You made that clear. And if you want to change that, then three days before I leave for the next nine months seems like a really stupid time to suggest it. We've only ever been what we were because it was convenient and easy. You told me that. Me being off at school isn't either of those things."

"You're right."

"What do you want, then?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "I want you. I'm not sure how, but…" He sighed. "However, you'd have me."

What the fuck was he talking about? Was he listening to himself? 'However that she'd have him?' She was going back to Hogwarts—far, far away from him. They'd never see each other. The best they could work out would be he could come to Hogsmeade on her free days and they'd...what? Chat over a butterbeer? They didn't chat. Their relationship had been 80% sex and 20% idle chit chat that served as a precursor to sex. If he missed anything, it was the sex.

"I miss what we had," he said quietly. " And I had to try. Maybe the chance to see you when you're home. Have the option—"

"You want the option to have sex when I'm home," she said bluntly. "Just say it."

"If we're being honest," he shrugged, turning his body toward her. "Fine, then yeah. I miss that. I miss you. I miss being inside of you."

"Stop."

"You said to say it. I do miss it. And I'd like to think you do, too. We both liked that part.

She hated herself, but she did miss it. She missed the closeness, the familiarity, the comfortable feeling of knowing what was happening and what to expect. She absolutely hated herself for feeling that way, but it didn't change the fact she felt it. She also hated that he knew that about her. He knew he could play on that and make her feel a bit weaker. She had to remind herself that after sleeping with Stuart, he wasn't her only option. She could find other blokes.

"I'm doing alright for myself," she finally said.

"I've heard."

She looked over at him. Did he know already? Henry's best friend—Griffin Giggleswick—had been at the Trials and she knew he'd gotten wind of her night with Stuart. Had he already told him?

"About you and Reynolds," he said, though he looked pained to say it.

She smirked a little. It seemed Giggleswick was a little stooge and did tell his mate everything he'd heard. How predictable. "You heard right, then." She looked back at him. "So, see? You can be replaced. And fairly quickly, I might add."

"You want me to admit I'm jealous?"

"Are you?"

"Insanely."

She continued to stare at him. Was he really? Her chest swelled a bit; she was happy to hear it. Good. He should have felt jealous. She'd upgraded and there wasn't a single thing he could do to change that now.

"When Griff told me, I fucking punched a metal post." He held up his hand to it to her, where, sure enough, it had bruises all over his knuckles. It must have happened a few days earlier. The purplish welts looked as if they were closer to healing than being fresh.

"That was stupid."

"No shit," he said, glancing down at his hand and slowly flexing his fingers in and out. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm lucky I didn't break it. I don't even know what came over me." He glanced over at her. She was still fairly close considering she'd been looking at his hand a moment earlier; his face wasn't far from hers. She could really see his eyes now. They had always been a warm shade of brown.

"I want things to be good between us," he said quietly. "That's all. If good means we can occasionally get together and do whatever, then…"

She laughed, but not because she was amused. He was so transparent. She actually had to give him credit for his shamelessness. He wanted them to be on good terms so they could casually have sex. She'd never in a million years thought she'd be having this conversation today. "You're ridiculous, Davies."

"Back to calling me Davies again?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

"It's your name."

"Yeah, but you stopped calling me it not long after we started messing around. I haven't heard it in awhile. Brings back memories of when we started this."

"Yeah, well, Davies reminds me of when you were nothing more than a dickhead who was the bane of my existence," she said, staring right back at him. "It's easier to hate you when I call you that."

"And Henry was?"

She hesitated for a moment, wanting to look away from him but somehow glued to staring into his eyes. "Henry wasn't so bad."

"So, I need to get you to start calling me Henry again?"

She finally forced herself to look away, pulling herself to stand up and get away from him. "Henry's dead to me."

He quickly stood up from his chair as well. "He's not." He stepped closer to her and she made the mistake of letting him. "It's your call, but I know you miss it, too." He reached out and ran his fingers up and down her arm, which caused her to immediately get goosepimples.

Fuck. This wasn't good.

"I…" she stammered, thinking about nothing more than what was happening on her right arm right then. "Look, no—"

He leaned in and kissed her. His familiar lips on hers; she did nothing but let him. Once he realized he wasn't getting smacked or cursed away, he went in harder; kissing her more fiercely and pulling her body toward him. She was lost entirely in the moment; her head swimming with so many thoughts ranging from, 'This need to stop' to "But it feels good. It feels comfortable.'

She didn't stop it. She even kissed him back. She was all in at this point.

"Is anybody else home?" he asked, breathlessly, his hands now moving up her body.

"No." She closed her eyes and let herself fall in. He knew her spots and she already knew where this was going. She was too weak to resist it. "Just get upstairs."