Fred and George exchanged startled glances as they noticed that their little sister wasn't home yet. They had seen her as they had been returning home and she had promised that she was on her way back. They had taken a detour before reaching their home.

Ginny should have been home already.

Unlike the other royals, the Weasleys preferred living among the people instead of within lavishly decorated buildings and using quills made from high-quality peacock feather. There really wasn't a point in drinking water so purified it held no function other to add liquid to the body. A quick trip to the shop gave them exactly the same result except in a plastic bottle instead of a glass goblet. It was a strange kind of pride that filled them whenever someone looked surprised at their status and how they lived.

Of course, their lack of money had also contributed to their current lifestyle. They had only one heirloom left, and that was the one that Ginny had worn for several years now. Almost everyone had been against the idea of her wearing that particular locket, but Ginny had been adamant. She had insisted that she was able to protect herself and they had allowed it.

Reluctantly.

Those kinds of things tended to attract the wrong kind of attention, especially when Ginny was often found wiping the silver until it shone. She had probably been held up at a friend's house. It wouldn't do for them to worry over nothing, and it probably was nothing. Ginny often couldn't stop talking once she had gotten started.

Two hours later, and even their mother was anxiously glancing at the clock every few minutes with a worried air hanging around her. It only took a moment of eye contact with their mother for the twins to kick back their chairs and start heading out, wands in hand.

That was the only other thing that was an indication of their status in society: their ability to wield magic. Only those with royal blood were able to cast spells and enchantments, and that set them apart from their neighbours even as they tried to blend in. It caused a rift between them that could never be crossed.

A few words later and they were heading towards the place where they had last seen Ginny. It would be a pretty good starting spot, and they could move around the surrounding areas afterwards. They were sure that Bill, Charlie, or Percy wouldn't mind helping despite the late hour, but they needed to make sure that it wasn't simply a false alarm first. It would be pointless rousing everyone if Ginny had been convinced to have dinner at someone else's home again.

A sinking feeling grew more prominent with every friend they met that hadn't seen Ginny in hours, or informed them that Ginny had been on her way home. The temptation to call for help was only growing by the minute, along with their sense of worry and panic for their sister.

Their dread grew with every step they took, and they had even resorted to checking if Ginny was hiding in an alleyway somewhere.

So when they first heard the crunch of glass under their feet, they didn't think too much of it. There were broken bottles everywhere. Occasionally there was a whiff of firewhiskey as well, but that seemed to be common in the alleys. The liquid was sold freely here during the night that much was common knowledge even if Fred and George had never really seen it for themselves.

The metallic smell of blood had been the first thing that alerted them to something being wrong. Despite not knowing who it was, they ran into the alley. If anyone needed help they would give it. That was what their mother had always told them. It was never something that was offered in return, but that wasn't their choice.

Flicking their wands to light the dim alley, they were stopped cold by the sight of the body before them. It was perhaps one of their worst nightmares coming to life, and everything they had originally feared but had prayed was untrue.

Ginny lay on the glass-covered ground that glittered around her in the light from the tips of their wands. A few of the shards held the precious ruby liquid of life that had left her body earlier. A knife lay embedded into her body with dried blood clinging to every inch of the blade. Empty bottles lay near her crumpled body.

Fred knew that he needed to tell his mother, or someone, about what had happened but his body felt like it was shutting down with every moment that passed. Ginny was his younger sister, and she was supposed to have outlived him. He should never have needed to experience this sight.

Numbly, George whispered a charm that would send a message to his mother. She needed to know, or she would be worried sick about them too. He didn't want to add any more grief or worry to the situation.

Out of the corner of his eye, George saw Fred kneeling near Ginny's body. The knees of his pants were darkening with her blood but he didn't seem to care as he tenderly caressed his sister's red locks. George felt like doing the same, but someone had to make sure whoever had done this wasn't still there.

"George!"

He turned around in alarm, eyes darting from side to side in search of any danger.

"There's something written on here," Fred waved around a small piece of crumpled paper, "But it doesn't look like Ginny's handwriting."

I'm sorry.

Written for Game of Life challenge: pride

Written for Triwizard Tournament Round 3: Murder Mystery

Written for Rubik's Cube: Royalty!AU