With only one place in mind, she race through the hallways until she reached her destination, the abandoned girls' lavatory. Her hand tentatively reached up and pushed open the door, revealing a circle of overflowing sinks and a row of green stalls to the left. She stepped forward, which caused her pale feet to be met with the icy cold water that had come from the sinks. She rushed over to the taps, not caring if water splashed up and wet her robes. She twisted the taps off, wincing when each of them made a stubborn, creak that cut through the eerie silence like a knife. Finished, the girl then slowly turned on the balls of her feet and looked up at the stained glass window. If you looked close enough you could see the pale figure of the ghost, Moaning Myrtle, sitting silently on the window sill, crying.

"Myrtle, why are you crying?" she asked, despair ebbing away and being replaced with worry. The pale figure turned towards her and then, before she could blink, Myrtle was floating right in front of her.

"You know perfectly well why I'm crying, Isabella," Myrtle mutters and even though her voice was barely above a whisper, the human girl could hear how hoarse it was,

"What about your future? I thought you were aspiring to be a Healer? You were going to go to France and study medicine," the ghost tried to plead, convince the girl that she would be giving up too much.

Isabella brought her shoulders up and then let them drop down, guiltily looking down at the ground. It was true, Isabella was planning on going to study in France, but things change. People change. With an even softer voice, Myrtle tried to convince the girl in front of her with a last attempt, "What about your father? You can't leave him alone, not after losing Astoria and Scorpius,"

At these soft words, Myrtle watched as the girl in front of her froze and then burst into tears. As the clear droplets slide down Isabella's face and struggled to grasp a crumpled, tearstained letter that she had stashed in her pocket and held it up in front of her. Her shoulders shaking in silent sobs as her inky black hair created a curtain hiding her face while she waited for Myrtle to read the letter declaring her father, Draco Malfoy, was dead.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella," Myrtle said, sorrow weighed at her words as she silently floated closer to her, trying to offer her friend her silent comfort. Isabella's hand creeped inside her robe pocket again, this time, she brought out what appeared to be a doll's handbag cradled in her palm. She then grabbed her wand and whispered a reversal spell causing the tiny bag to back to a large, brown leather bag and pulled out a wooden glasses case. Myrtle turned her back and soon enough heard the snap of the case opening and closing. Turned around to see round, vintage reading glasses with black rimming adorning Isabella's face making her pale blue eyes sparkle as they chased the words in the aged, leather bound book. Despite the circumstances, Myrtle smiled at the sight of the girl before her as she floated over.

"Per mortem manet in anima," Isabella repeated again for the fifth time, making sure that she was pronouncing the Latin correctly.

With death the soul remains.

Isabella started practicing wand movements when Myrtle floated over to her and asked Isabella,

"Is that the book you told me about, the one with the spell that will turn you into a ghost after you kill yourself?"

Isabella looked stopped the wand movements and looked up at Myrtle, uncertainty written all over her face as she answer,

"Yes,"

Happiness flooded Myrtle's being a few seconds before the guilt hit her. Oh, how she would love to spend the rest of eternity with Isabella but her whole being rejected the fact that in order for Isabella to be with her for the rest of time, she would have to give her life.

"Please, Isabella! Don't do this, you can't do this! You have your whole life ahead of you. You have friends that love you. You have goals to reach." Myrtle said, even if her heart wasn't saying what her lips were.

"What life, Myrtle? I have no friends except you, my family is dead!" Isabella screeched as she slammed her book closed.

"I'm ready,"

Myrtle let out a resigned sigh, she could see there was nothing stopping Isabella from doing this and her own conflicting emotions were just going to make everything more painful.

"Okay," Myrtle replied as she watched Isabella place the book down, clenching her wand in a white-knuckled fist.

Isabella's hands were sweating, her heart was beating, her limbs were stiff, and her heart swelled with anticipation as she met the ghost's gaze.

"Per mortem manet in anima," Sparks of magic crackled in the air and the scared girl was surrounded in pale glowing light. Once the light disappeared, Isabella made her way over to her bag to complete the last task. Her hand reached in a brushed against the cool surface of the full bottle of Dreamless Sleep. She grabbed it then turned around to meet Myrtle's eyes again as she slowly the bottle.

"I'm scared," Isabella admitted.

"I know," Myrtle responded with a look on sympathy on her face.

"Do you love me?" Isabella asked, needing final reassurance.

"I will love you always, Isabella. You know this," Myrtle said, her tone reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

"I love you too, always," Isabella declared and she then lifted the bottle up to her mouth, without breaking eye contact with Myrtle, and swallowed it all. She collapsed a few seconds after that, her thrashing heart slowing to stop while the darkness consumed her, quieted her mind, and put her at ease.

The next day, a first year screamed upon finding a dead girl's body. Madame Pomphrey showed up, informing everyone that Isabella Malfoy had died of a drug overdose on February 16th. No one seemed to notice the two ghosts sitting on the window sill, holding hands.