American Royalty III

Part 32: Dead Girls Dont Talk

The Great Hall was alive with its usual muted buzz, students chatting over breakfast while the smell of bacon and toast filled the air. At the Gryffindor table, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Seamus sat together, exchanging stories about the holidays and trying to keep their spirits up in the increasingly tense atmosphere of Hogwarts.

As the morning post arrived, dozens of owls swooped through the hall, dropping letters and parcels onto the tables below. Neville, half-listening to Seamus recount a Quidditch match he'd watched, absentmindedly reached for the Daily Prophet that landed in front of him. He froze as his eyes landed on the front page.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, the paper crinkling in his grip.

Ginny looked up sharply. "What's wrong?"

Neville didn't answer, just turned the paper so the others could see. The front page displayed a large black-and-white photograph of Kit, dressed in full royal attire. She looked poised and regal, her dark hair pulled back into an intricate braid, a delicate silver crown resting on her head. Beneath the image, bold letters declared:

"PRINCESS KATHERINE JACKSON DEAD IN THE LINE OF DUTY"

The article was brief and offered little explanation, only stating that Princess Katherine, known to many as Kit, had died during an operation in America. The exact details were omitted, leaving more questions than answers.

Ginny's face went pale as she grabbed the paper and read the headline again, as though hoping she'd misread it. "No..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Seamus leaned in, his expression incredulous. "She's dead?"

Luna tilted her head, her usual dreamy expression replaced by something more solemn. "Well, that does explain a few things..." she murmured, though her voice lacked its usual lightness.

Neville, his hands clenched on the table, shook his head. "This doesn't make sense. Kit was taken by You-Know-Who. We know that. What if..." He trailed off, unable to voice the thought forming in his mind.

Ginny, however, said it aloud. "What if they killed her? What if the Death Eaters... and the Prophet's just covering it up?"

Her words hit the group like a thunderclap. The Daily Prophet had grown infamous for toeing the Ministry's line and twisting the truth. It wouldn't be the first time they'd hidden the Death Eaters' crimes.

The hall around them was growing louder as more students read the paper. Whispers spread like wildfire, and soon the entire hall seemed to be buzzing with speculation. Even some of the teachers looked shocked and were speaking in hushed tones.

The Gryffindor table remained silent as Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Seamus processed the news. Ginny's stomach churned with dread. The thought of Kit being killed—tortured and discarded like so many others—was almost too much to bear.

Then the doors to the Great Hall creaked open, and the murmurs fell into an eerie silence.

The royals entered: Will, Nico, Annabeth, Percy, Connor, Hazel, Frank, Reyna, Thalia, Clarisse, and Leo. All were dressed in black, their mourning attire stark and somber against the warm glow of the hall. There was an undeniable weight to their presence, a grief that radiated from them like a physical force.

Ginny's sharp eyes scanned their faces. Even the usually fiery Thalia seemed subdued, her blue eyes rimmed with red as though she'd been crying. Percy's jaw was tight, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided everyone's gaze. Hazel clung to Frank's arm, her face pale and tear-streaked, while Leo, who always seemed to have a joke ready, walked with his head down, his expression unreadable.