Volcanoes Melt You Down

"You give me miles and miles of mountains
and I'll ask for the sea"

Volcano – Damien Rice

I own a Fender, a large bed and too many books to count. Anything else isn't mine.

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The thing is that Victoire, well; she's your home.

For so many years she has played several roles in your life, her name has taken a plentitude of meanings: best friend, girlfriend, lover, partner, and future wife.

She was your satellite, the star you looked for guidance, and she has been, without a fault, always there for you. She was there whenever you cried over your parents, when you finished Hogwarts, when you lost his virginity to someone else that wasn't her.

She was there when you got your first flat, when you quit your first job, when you had had trouble paying your bills. She was there when you had to bury your grandmother and she'd cried with you, for you, and taken it up to herself to make you smile again.

She's such an intricate, vital part of your life that the possibly of not having her in it anymore seems inconceivable, a foreign and scary notion that terrifies you, not just because of the story you two share, not just because you somehow feel like you own her something, but because your love her.

You love her gentle hands, and her easy smile, and the way her hair tumbles across her back. You love her goofy laugh and the confident way she carries herself, the quiet authority in her voice.

You love how she curls up around you while she sleeps, the way she smells, and how she always looks so sunny even in the greyest mornings.

There's a place on your life that no one could ever take but her, and while it isn't fair of you to betray her like you have, you just can't help it.

See, the thing is that Victoire is your home.

But Lily, wild, curious, relentless and too-young-too-forbidden-for-you Lily, well, she has crawled and sneaked her way into your blood and your thoughts and your heart, and she won't let it go.

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You should be ashamed; you should be covered in disgust and regret.

But when she kisses you, you're not, you can't bring yourself to feel anything but her, but wanting and aching and she's everywhere, wrapped around you, turning your thoughts foggy, your actions faulty, and you fallfallcrash.

There is no decency, no dignity in what you are, in what you are doing.

There is only Lily, only her eyes and her lips and her skin, and you're not afraid anymore, you don't really think about the consequences of this brief, devastating kiss.

You don't feel ashamed, not yet, but you will.

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It's not easy, letting Victoire go.

They were good together, they made sense, and so unlike this impossible, crazed thing you have with Lily. Being with Victoire has always been easy, almost like a second-nature of yours.

You fell for her, and she fell for you, and it was as easy as the two remaining pieces of a puzzle. You were meant to stay that way for the rest of your lives. You and Victoire, you just fit,and it was as simple as that.

But now you have to let her go.

You were dishonest, unfaithful and it makes you sick to your stomach, how you ended up being the guy who broke her trust, broke them up and broke her heart.

And even though you hate doing that to her, hates yourself for it, you also know you can't keep on pretending like you don't love someone else as well. Enough is enough, and you can't keep on lying to everyone, including yourself.

You have to tear you and Victoire apart because you're selfish, because you're a masochist and you want the pain - you'll burn your whole life to the ground and live with the shambles of it if it means you can be with Lily, the girl that's too young, and too wild and too complicated to possibly know better than to want you, to choose you.

Lily and Victoire – they both should've known better.

So there you are, willingly putting an end to all the years and the future you were supposed to share with a blond-haired girl with the sweet smile and the gentle hands.

You can see it in her eyes when you say the words ("I've kissed Lily") that not only did you cheated; you've disappointed her as well.

It physically hurts you, seeing the sadness in her eyes and the defeated way she holds herself just so that she won't cry in front of you; and you don't understand how you can love someone so much, so deeply, and have it so that it's still not enough not to make you love someone else, not want something (someone else) more.

And the fucked up thing is that she should have been enough.

She gave you everything, she has been your home for so many years, and this is what you do, this is what she gets – you packing your bags and walking away.

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You're so grateful for having her, you are.

You're grateful for all those memories, and for everything you taught each other about companionship and desire, and you don't think you have it in you to see her happy with somebody else (can't stand the thought of it), but you're still chasing after things you're not supposed to have and it's not fair to string her along, to bring her down with you.

But while you have made it an art of it, living with denial, you can't lie to her. While you love her, and it's cruel and impossible, you're also in love with Lily.

She deserves better, Victoire.

She deserves someone who will fully be with her, and not someone who can't keep his eyes (and his hands, and his lips) from the red-haired volcano that is her cousin, the one that burns you in such a way that makes it impossible to ignore its pain, to deny the existence of such a force of life.

So you tell her the truth, and you accept the hurt and the blame that comes with it, because you're tearing everything apart, all the things you were supposed to have with Victoire - the house, the children; the growing old together.

You try to tell yourself that you've had your time together, and even though it didn't lasted a lifetime like it was supposed to, there were good times nonetheless.

You try to tell yourself that maybe someday she will see it like that too, that maybe someday she will forgive you (forgive them), but it sounds like a hollow promise, an empty consolation. It sounds like the lie that it is, especially when she's looking at you like that, like she has never seen you before, as if you're the dirt underneath her shoes and she's too disgusted to listen your voice, too disgusted to even look at your face, and you beg, but...

What's the point?

What is the point of making her listen to your apologies, your excuses, when she knows you so well (too well), that no amount of apology can excuse the fact that while you're sorry for the pain you've caused her, you're not sorry for Lily?

Victoire looks at you and she sees the truth in your eyes.

She looks at you and she sees that even while you fit perfectly, flawlessly even, you also need the struggle, the passion that only the freckled-faced girl who's too young, too wild and too complicated was able to awaken in you.

Victoire takes one look at you and simply knows, knows that when you're with Lily, well, that's how you know you are alive.

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You leave the home you've built together with suitcases filled with half-packed clothes, tender memories and regret.

You leave, and everyone judges you, and Victoire keeps silent while Lily holds her head high in defiance, and everything explodes right in front of your eyes.

You leave your home and you move into a room at The Leaky Cauldron because it doesn't feel right, getting a flat right away, or moving in with Lily.

Nothing feels right, your skin doesn't feel right under your fingertips, and you have no idea how to pull yourself together, how to even begin to understand.

The fact is that one night, while it was snowing, Lily kissed you and you kissed her back, and nothing was ever the same.

You wonder if you would've changed anything, had been given the chance.

Sometimes you think you wouldn't, but most days?

Most days you have no idea how to even get out of bed.

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A.N: A little three-chapters story that has been sitting on my hard drive for a long, long time. Like Teddy, I'm torn between those two ladies - I absolutely adore Teddy and Lily, but there's a soft spot for him and Victoire as well in my canon-loving heart. I've figured that since I'll be posting a Lily-centric one-shot in the next days and I'm turning "Things That Got Lost In The Dark" into a three chapters history as well, I should just get this out of the way first, otherwise I'll just confuse myself.

This story is clearly unbeta-ed, as everyone can tell. But please, if you drop by and read this, let me know if you enjoyed it. Next chapers will be form Victoire and Lily's POV.