AU! WARNINGS: SUICIDE.

WRITTEN FOR QLFC, RESERVE LEAGUE

SEASON 9, ROUND 8

Beater 2: a relationship that withstands hardships

WC: 1888

"It's all my fault," James whispered, staring at Lily's room. The room was made as if it were just waiting for her to come back, the bedsheets still rumpled, the wardrobe door tilted open and a mess of clothes trailing from the door, ones she'd never wear again. Tears streamed down his face and he sniffled, not bothering to wipe them away.

"It's not your fault, Jamie," Albus muttered, placing his hand on James's shoulder. His voice was deep and hoarse. Albus must've spent the past few hours crying, thought James.

James' head felt fuzzy, his eyes ached and he rested his head against Albus' shoulder. Everything felt like too much. The sun shone brightly outside (despite the forecasted rain), the birds chirped on the window ledge, and low greying clouds peppered the sky. Lily had loved days like this, and it was his fault that she wouldn't see any more of them.

"It is!" James sobbed, burying his face into his brother's jacket as tears ran in rivulets down his face. "If I had just listened to her...if I had just paid attention to the signs...Lily would still be here with us!"

"You couldn't have known, Jamie," Albus murmured gently, his hand still on James's shoulder. "Stop blaming yourself. If it is about knowing the signs, then this is on me, too."

James tilted his head to peer at Lily's room. The walls were painted pastel-pink, and the bookshelf was littered with old toys and keepsakes from her years at Hogwarts. James noticed their family photo framed on the bedside table, in which Lily's brilliant smile widened every time James tugged on her hair, and a round of fresh tears gushed down his face.

"But I was the one she came to, Al. If I hadn't just pushed her worries to the side like they meant nothing, she wouldn't have...she wouldn't have done this. She wouldn't have killed herself. Merlin, just saying that hurts. Everything hurts, Al...She deserved the world, she deserved to live a happy life. Out here with us! Not in that cold, dark box in the ground with no life."

Albus was quiet as he rubbed James's shoulder in a meaningless gesture of comfort. Outside, the clouds rumbled, and raindrops began to pitter-patter on the roof, their sound soft, yet still noticeable, with Lily's voice no longer drowning the sound of it.

Although his eyes were trained on Lily's bed, which was still unmade as if she had just left to grab a snack, James couldn't see it. All James could see was his only sister's limp body with her wrists slit and her skin almost blue. The image played in his mind's eye over and over again. It was scarred into his very soul so deeply that nothing else he tried to do could take his mind off it. His father stood just near the wall, his arm around their mother's shoulders as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

His mother hadn't stopped crying since she had discovered Lily's pale corpse in the bathroom with the floor around her slick with blood. James could still hear her screams, and he whimpered in pain, covering his ears as the heartwrenching shrieks echoed in his mind, bouncing around in his skull and growing louder with each minute that passed since then.

James had never heard his mother cry before. He hoped he would never hear her make such pitiful sounds ever again. But he couldn't blame her, not when terrified howls had ripped from his own mouth the moment he had seen the bloodied water and Lily's head beneath the surface, her bloodied wrists lying on the edge of the bathtub, her long red hair floating on the wine-coloured water forming a macabre halo.

James clenched his eyes shut and tried to force the image out of his mind, but it just refused to stop haunting him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake off the memory, couldn't lock it away. Not when he was hurting so much. The scene just kept playing on repeat, mocking him for being so useless.

Guests milled about downstairs with the Weasleys, which left the Potters alone to grieve for their only daughter's untimely death. James shuffled closer to the bed (leaving the comfort of Albus' shoulder) and fell onto his knees with a soft thud, dimly aware of the pang of pain in his thigh.

Did Lily feel more pain when she died? James thought, trying to imagine his sister's last moments.

The clouds growled in warning, and the rain dinged furiously off the roof, the drops drumming against the windowpane. So much rain fell that the sound blurred into one long, whirring mess of white noise. James choked on his sobs.

Lily had loved the rain. The moment the first drops of rain fell onto the ground, Lily would run out the door with her arms stretched out and a huge grin on her face. As soon as the droplets would hit her face, she would let out the most beautiful laugh James had ever heard, her long red hair swivelling about her waist as she twirled under the sky, her mouth open and waiting for the raindrops to hit her tongue. She would always yell at her brothers, "Come, play with me!"

James wished with all his heart that he could hear her gleeful shout just one more time.

James would join her immediately, splashing about her and laughing heartily, but Albus would need a little bit of prodding. Still, the latter would awkwardly walk out into the rain, and Lily would rush towards him, screaming, "Catch me, Albie!"

James's tears increased, and his shoulders shook as he thought of Lily lunging at Albus and their brother—now only his—squealing in a high-pitched voice before catching her by her waist. Sometimes, Albus would accidentally drop her into the mud, where she would lay, laughing and making 'mud angels'. James would jump in after her, and to Albus's annoyance, they would drag him down beside them. Because things like jumping into puddles and making mud-angels were only made more beautiful by sharing the experience.

They'd had such a wonderful relationship, so where had it all gone so wrong?

James wracked his brain for the moment, any moment that would indicate the pain Lily must have been feeling. With a jolt, he realised the last time he had seen his little sister truly happy was when she had graduated from Hogwarts three years ago. Merlin, he could still remember the huge grin she'd had on her face and the twinkle in her eye when she had stepped off the stage and ran towards them, her certificate in her hand.

After that, her life had spiralled, and no one had seen the signs—or they had ignored the signs.

"She came to me last week, it wasn't the first time though," James whispered to no one in particular. He could feel the weight of his father's gaze as well as Albus's. He needed to get this off his chest; he didn't know if it would ease any of his guilt, but he had to try...just like Lily had.

"What happened?" Albus asked, prompting him to go on.

James had already had the conversation with him, but he figured Albus realised he needed to talk. Albus had always been the more perceptive of the three siblings; James wondered if Lily had gone to Albus instead of him, would she still be alive?

James's breath hitched in his throat as he tried to compose himself but failed. "She told me she hated her life...hated her job...hated everything. She couldn't stand anything...I told her it was fine. We all went through that at some point. Everything would work out for the better…that she just needed to get a grip, stick through it and it would be alright soon..."

"James," his father whispered, and his mother let out another heartbreaking wail that echoed around the bedroom.

"It's my fault, Dad. I failed her. I'm so fucking sorry," James choked out. "If I hadn't told her to just go back and try again...if I hadn't told her she was fine and just imagining monsters that weren't there...if I hadn't told her—"

"You didn't know what she was going to do, James," his father said, his tone both gentle yet strict. His father was treating him with the care they should've given to Lily. "You can't blame yourself. We should all have seen the signs. We should have paid more attention to her when she didn't act as she used to or when she told us that things were fine. We should have done something. You are not to blame."

"But she didn't come to you, did she? She came to me, and look at where it landed her. I joked about it. I said she'd be fine, that we all go through a period of feeling lost after Hogwarts, but I should have had the decency to not joke about it. I should have listened because now it's all my fault she's..." James ended in a whisper, his words coming out broken. He felt broken, too; his whole body ached, his stomach spasming with cramps, but it was his heart that felt the worst. Torn apart into millions of pieces then stomped down upon in the dirt until nothing remained. Maybe that's what his heart had always been like, and that's why he'd ignored the signs?

"It's not your fault," his mother whispered, stumbling over and falling onto her knees beside him. She wrapped her arms around James's shoulders and kissed his temple, her tears mingling with his. "You couldn't have done anything to change her mind. We all know how strong-willed she was, don't we? Don't you remember how she snuck out of the house with your father on a mission?"

James sobbed and laughed at the same time. He remembered that day well. Lily had been five years old, but she had been incredibly determined to be the hero. She had stolen the Invisibility Cloak from the drawer and had clung to their father's robes before he had Apparated to the Ministry. Their father had brought her back an hour later, both amused and worried with her actions.

"How will we get through this, Mum? I miss her so much…" James whispered, his voice cracking on his last words as his mother tightened her hold on him.

"We'll get through this together," she said firmly, trying to wipe her tears with her sleeve. "We are not going to make the same mistakes with each other."

Albus crept closer and bent down to wrap his arms around her, and she scooted closer to James to make room for his brother. A few seconds, they were joined by his father, who wrapped his arms around them from behind, trying to comfort them as best as he could.

The four Potters knelt there by Lily's empty bed and cried.

And beside them, hidden in a world just out of sight and just out of reach, their only daughter cried with them. Death didn't have the love and affection she was yearning for either. She was as alone in death as she had felt in life.