Dear Rose,

I'm sorry. I shouldn't be, but I am. I never hurt you, so that's not why I'm apologizing. I'm apologizing for never being good enough for you. I'm apologizing for having stood by you for almost seventeen years, and never being given a chance by you. I'm apologizing for killing myself on my seventeenth birthday – happy birthday to me – and for never seeing you come of age. I'm sorry for leaving you.

I couldn't take it anymore, though, Rose. The world was a cruel place for me – you were my only bright spot. I had few friends, and you know my family loved me dearly, but it was not their love that I craved – it was yours. It was always yours. It was always your love that I longed for, and always you that my heart belonged to. I would follow you to Hell and back just for one smile, one giggle, one sign of your happiness.

It killed me, you know. Your illness – it's called bulimia in the Muggle world (I looked it up) – didn't affect just you. It hurt me, to see you hurting yourself like that. It hurt me, to find you crouched above the toilet, forcing yourself to vomit. It hurt me to see you become skin and bones. It hurt me to keep seeing you relapse, no matter how many different treatments you received. I tried to help you, honestly. I did whatever I could to help you feel better. You know that anonymous letter your parents received first year, the one that prompted them to sign you up for a therapist? Well, I sent that letter. I wanted you to get better.

I've had a crush on you since we were eight. I didn't realize it was love until fourth year, I think. But you've always been it for me – the one I wanted to spend my life with. Seeing you fall for Teddy at nine, and experience your first bout of bulimia after finding out that Teddy loved your cousin Victoire – it broke my heart. I think I was already in love with you, even back then. Knowing that you felt so strongly for someone twice your age made me feel inadequate. But I stayed strong. I would always stay beside you, no matter what.

I missed you when you stayed at St. Mungo's that first year. I cried every day, and wished for you to return home to me. And when you came back, I thought you were healed. I thought you had given up on Teddy, and I would have a chance. But no, you were still hung up on him. And you went back to St. Mungo's again. And I missed you – my best friend – once more. And you came home the second time, and I hear – straight from your lips – that you were finally over Teddy Lupin. I was happy. I was so happy. I finally had a chance.

We started at Hogwarts, and we started drifting apart. I tried to hang out with you as much as I could, but then you fell for Scorpius Malfoy. And it started again. Scorpius liked your cousin Roxanne. You felt inadequate once more, so you started with the bulimia again. I watched as you fell apart, but this time you couldn't stay at St. Mungo's for a year of rehab.

Six years went by, and you saw a therapist once a week. I never told you, but your parents asked me to keep an eye on you. They wanted to make sure you weren't having any more episodes. But you did. And every time you forced yourself to vomit in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I owled your parents. I'm sorry for spying on you, by the way, but it was for the best.

The ball last night was the last straw. You looked so…incredible. So beautiful, so stunning, so amazing. I couldn't believe my eyes. And you danced with me. If only for a few minutes, you made me the happiest almost-seventeen-year old in the world. You were in my arms, and all of your attention was on me. I was in heaven. I don't know why, but I decided to confess to you. To confess that I loved you. And then I kissed you. It hurt me when you didn't kiss me back. When you started crying, and ran away. But, because I loved you, I followed you. That's when I finally heard the truth from your lovely lips.

"I'm sorry, Lysander. I love you, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with Scorpius Malfoy. Did you know that he came to the ball with my cousin Lily? I saw them on my way to the Great Hall. They looked so good together. I made a stop at Myrtle's bathroom and vomited. I'm sorry."

I was speechless. Not again. We all thought you were better. That's why the therapist stopped coming. We thought you were over Scorpius. We trusted you. I wanted to tell you all of these things. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. So I stood up, and began to plan. I didn't know what to tell you when you asked me where I was going, when you begged for me to not leave.

My head was reeling. I finally realized that, though you were it for me, I'd never be it for you. I'd always be your best friend, never your boyfriend. You'd never even consider me as boyfriend material. 'I love you, but I'm not in love with you.'

The clock in the courtyard struck midnight. I couldn't stay. I was hurting too much. My plan had been formulated. So, just as in the fairytale your mother used to tell us – you remember Cinderella – my time had run out. The magic was fading. I said goodbye, and I left. You probably thought that I went back to the Ravenclaw dorm, but I didn't. I took one of the secret passages into Hogsmeade, and Apparated – yes, illegally – to our favorite spot. I Apparated to the lake where we used to go swimming on hot summer days, and watch the stars on cool summer nights. Where we were happiest.

That's where I'm writing you this letter, Rose. You are the only one that gets a letter before I do the deed. Before I take my life. Because I love you, and I have always loved you. I sincerely believe that I've loved you since the first time we met, both of us only a few weeks old. You've always had my heart. You're the one I'm going to miss the most when I'm gone. The only one who's ever truly mattered to me. And that's why I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we never had a chance.

Always remember: You are beautiful – no matter what anyone else says or thinks or does – and I will always love you. Always.

Yours forever – in life, death, and afterwards,

Lysander Xavier Scamander