It was Dominique that found her, early in the morning, and it was Dominique whose scream echoed over the castle. Dom could instantly see what was wrong. The red that had dried mid-drip, the empty bottle, all the scars on her arms, and her ribs, not moving. She had gotten so skinny over the past year that Dominique could easily count the girl's ribs. For the first time in a long time, she was wearing something revealing enough that Dom could see her body. It was beautiful, in a grotesque way. All her angles were sticking out, her beautiful red hair was dried and broken.

"Lily," Dom said, beginning to shake her head. No. No. It couldn't be. Dom began to scream for help, her voice dry and painful in her throat. Lily. Lily. It was Lily, and she needed help. No one was awake, Dom began to think, until footsteps clattered on the stone, and a comfortingly familiar voice said, "Dom? What's the—"

"Lily," Dom said again choking her voice out. "Found her… like this."

"I'll get Poppy," Neville said, his face turning gray.

Dom nodded her head; she was unable to open her throat, for fear that the questions would pop out. Was it my fault? My fault? Did I drive her to this? Why? Why why why? Dom sank down on the floor, and kept staring at the blood stains, at the slightly open mouth, the closed eyes. At the knife sitting beside her, coated in a maroon sheen. Dom could see how dull the blade was; clearly this wasn't its first use. Everything spun in a sickening way. All she could see was Lily's red hair and Lily's red blood and LilyredLilyredLilyred. She closed her eyes and put her head between her knees and wished for someone to save her.

Footsteps once again clattered against the ground, bringing a breathless Neville and a pale and graying Madam Pomfrey. "Oh," she said, seeing Lily, seeing just how bad it really was. She conjured a stretcher and levitated Lily's limp form, along with everything that surrounded her. Neville pulled Dom up from the ground, and they followed Madam Pomfrey, who was walking quickly to the Hospital Wing while trying, in vain, to find a pulse, a heartbeat, anything.

Dom knew what was going to happen next, when they got there. They would try everything, in case there was some tiny spark of life within her. And they did. But Dom knew that there wasn't. She could tell when Madam Pomfrey rolled up her eyelids, and the brown pools were still. They were like pools of mud, hardened after a dry summer. Empty of life.

"Neville, go get her brothers. I'll floo St. Mungo's, to see if they have anything that could work, but it's unlikely. Tell them—" her voice cracked. "Tell them that their sister committed suicide last night in the early morning. Tell them that it's not their fault." Her eyes threatened to spill the tears they were holding in so precariously, and she turned to hurry away, rubbing her face with her sleeve.

"Dom," the headmaster said, "will you stay here… with her? I hate to leave you, but I need to get Albus and James."

Dom nodded. "Floo… Floo Ginny and Harry. And get Rose." He nodded, looking unsure. "And we need to tell all the family members before it gets out…" Dom trailed off, realizing how robotic she sounded.

"I will."

"Th-Thanks, Neville."

Dom sat down and took Lily's hand from the bed without even noticing what she was doing. She began to stroke the cold, freckled hand. Dom could see the bones in her hand without even trying.

"Why did you do it, Lily? I thought you were better. I stopped, why didn't you? I saw you eating, and I thought you were happy. You were laughing just yesterday. And now you're dead. Why?" Dom whispered, thinking back to last year, when they matched. They had both been chubby, and wanted to lose weight, so they started together. They did it together. They both started smoking, and purging. They were glamorous. They broke hearts together, all across the school. Dom and Lily, Lily and Dom. They had been fire and ice together. Every boy's dream. But Dom stopped over the summer. Lily didn't. And they grew apart.

"Lily, was it my fault? If I had kept at it, would you still be alive?" Tears began rolling down Dom's face. "Lily, Lily. Why?" She kept muttering under her breath as Madam Pomfrey appeared back in the room, looking drawn.

"Is there anything…?" Dom asked, gesturing to the body whose hand she had dropped as soon as she heard the older woman.

"There's one thing, it's a long shot." Madam Pomfrey took out her wand, and muttered an incantation under her breath. The blood flushed in Lily's cheeks for a second, before disappearing, leaving her pale under her freckles.

"Nothing," the nurse sighed. "I'm so sorry, Dominique."

"Not your fault," Dom choked out.

The Hospital Wing door opened with a crash, showing the sight of Neville and Albus, who seemed to be in hysterics.

"Dom! Dom, tell me they're lying. Tell me Lily isn't… She can't be…" And then his eyes fell on her lifeless form. Dom choked back a sob, seeing his expression.

"Lily, Lily no, please don't be, Lily, don't be dead, wake up, please wake up," he said, crouching over her, holding her gently.

"Mister Potter, I'm afraid she is gone," said Madam Pomfrey softly.

"No! She isn't! She's unconscious or something. Why aren't you doing your job? There's nothing wrong with her!"

"Look again."

Albus truly looked at his sister for the first time in over a year. He saw her bones, sticking out too far. The dried blood covering her arms and dress. How thin her face was. The crosshatching of cuts on her arms. The scars were in all shapes and sizes. Some were moon-shaped, like the end of her fingernails. Some were thin and deep, which echoed of a quill tip. But most had been cut by a knife. The same knife that sat next to her.

Albus sunk down to the floor. "Lily, Lily." He grasped at her hand, cold and stiff in death, and felt the crumpled piece of paper inside. He pried her fingers apart, in order to smooth out the paper and read it. The words inside caused him to curl into a ball by the side of her bed, shaking his head and whispering, "Lily."

"Albus, what does the paper say?" Dom asked, with a fearful expression. He balled it up and threw it in her direction. She bent down to pick it up, and read it. "No." She put it on the table, and sat back down in her chair, chin quivering.

"Where's James?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I have to go get him." And so Neville left again.

After James arrived, the room quieted as he looked at his sister, his only sister. "Why?" he asked, sounding broken.

"Poppy, may I use your fireplace to floo the Potters's?" Neville asked quietly.

"Of course."

They arrived quickly, and Rose ran from the Ravenclaw dormitories after Neville had gone to get her. There is nothing more painful in the world than the sound of parents who have lost their daughter. After that, Neville and Madam Pomfrey excused themselves to gather the rest of the family members, and give them privacy.

They circled around her bed, looking at her body, and the note she had left.

"Why did she do it? Do any of you know?" Ginny asked, looking around, not in blame, but in pain. She was in the kind of pain that only a mother can feel after losing her only daughter. "Lily."

The tears poured that day, as relatives came in one by one to see the her. The Potter girl. The one who killed herself, on March 10, 2024, at the age of 16.

She left them broken and reeling. They were lost without her.