I love you. Did you know? Is that why you've always been distant – just a little? You've always liked her more than me, I could tell. But I never gave up; my mum taught me to never give up. To fight for what I want, to fight with all my heart. And I'm sure if my sister's what's standing in the way of what I want, then my mum would support me. Because I want it – you – more than she does.
I know we're years apart. You'd say it'd never work; you're wrong. You're wrong a lot, I've noticed. But that's okay, because I still love you anyways. I don't see why you'd never make the effort; you'd never try. I could feel the chemistry, though. The sparks flying between us. The fireworks when we were together, just like at an American Muggle Independence Day celebration, like that one we attended when we were children. How is it that you didn't feel it too?
This is all your fault, I'm sorry to say. I don't want to blame you. Honestly. So maybe it's a bit my fault, too. Fact of the matter is, falling in love with you – the angel that is you – was my undoing. Just a smile from you could give me butterflies in the deepest recesses of my stomach. Just a laugh tied my heart in knots. Hearing your voice in my ear, as rarely as it happened, made me shiver in joy, and gave me goosebumps the size of Quaffles.
Watching you kiss her, love her; it drove me to the brink. I'd always known that there was something going on between you two – I watched you often enough, didn't I? – and I saw you both denying it. But I knew, and it drove me insane. You didn't get together after eighteen years and I thought maybemaybemaybe, maybeIhaveachance. I'd chant that every time I saw you, hoping for it to come true. And it never did.
You finally chose her, and I could tell. It was all over for me. No reason for me to go on living, when my reason for living wasn't mine anymore. You were hers; all I could think was nonononono, thiscan'tbehappeningIwon'tletitbehappening, whywhywhywouldtheydothistome? Never can up with an answer, mind you. So that's why I had to go. Because I'll never be happy here; not now that you're with her.
Are you happy now? Are you happy with her, my dear? I hope so, because it'd be stupid for me to have given up on everything for you two, just to find that it didn't work out. Pleaspleaseplease, remember that I love you. Just so that you know, and you'll always know. Because I gave it up for you, and knowing that you know how I feel (or felt) will make it all worth it. So be happy for me. I'm finally free, and maybe I'll finally be happy.
Tears dripping down his face, he folds the note. It's his turn to see her casket. But he gets out of line. He can't do it, can't see her like that. He wants to remember her in the best way possible. All icybluejoy eyes, shinycornsilkandsungold hair, freckles farastheeyecansee, happyhappyhappytoseeyou smile. The way she looked the last time he saw her, before he'd kissed her sister.
He basically killed her, and now he's paying for it. He's regretting never noticing her, not in the way she wanted. He'd always passed her over for her older sister, who shined much brighter without even trying. But now he realizes that she'd been better; she didn't shine, she glowed.
While her sister lit up the room just by walking in, she was more subtle about it. She'd tell a few jokes, give a few compliments, hum a tune, pull people to the dance floor, just to make everyone comfortable. Her sister was good at making other people feel like lesser beings; she'd excelled at making people feel good about themselves and others.
And now she's gone. And he never said goodbye. So the least he can do is remember her at her best, and not as how he'd found her (he was the one they'd sent to check on her when she hadn't been out of her room in days). At that time, she'd been all emptylifelessice eyes, limpyellowfadingsun hair, paleasdeathandcrimsonblood skin, finallyinpeacebutunhappy death frown.
He realizes now what he should've realized long ago. He didn't love her sister; he loved her. But now it's too late, and if she'd just told him, he'd have realized it sooner, and she'd still be here. With him. And they'd be living happyeverafter just like in fairytales. But she's gone, and it's too late. And he's sorry.
The Daily Prophet headline the next morning proclaims: WIZARDING WORLD SHOCKED
The subheading declares: SUICIDE OF BOY-WHO-LIVED'S NIECE, FOLLOWED BY SUICIDE OF GODSON, LEAVES QUESTIONS UNANSWERED