To Tickle A Dragon
By JK Fie'r
Summary: Gina has a secret, and it's one that might spell trouble. Crossover with Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Bill or Harry Potter.
JK: -cough- Yes people, a Harry Potter crossover, yes indeed. And yet… I don't think that anyone has written one for The Bill before. If they have, I would like to know.
This fic was inspired by my mother… Well, I say inspired, what I really mean is forced out of me.
While I should really be working on my other stories - and my beta work - this one has been bugging me quite a bit recently. So, without further ado, let the fic begin!
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Prologue
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"Look at me Craig. I'm a witch."
Craig quirked the barest of smiles, before turning back to his drink. Gina smiled softly to herself. There was no way anybody could have gotten anything from that sentence beyond a joke between two friends.
She was a witch. It didn't mean that she shouldn't be careful. Passing it off as a joke between herself and Craig was risky, but she felt it necessary in this instance. Her sergeant needed the reassurance.
Yeah, that was it.
It wasn't that she wanted someone to know.
Of course it wasn't.
And if that were true, a tiny part of her muttered, then you're a fish.
Damn.
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Chapter One: sine canem iace dormitus
Subtitled: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
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Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock…
If that clock didn't stop doing that, Gina was going to… was going to…
Oh, the hell with it, she was going to keep ignoring it, no matter how much it got on her nerves. It was just another piece of furniture, in a room best described as a crime scene, and at worst described as a nightmare.
In fact, considering the rest of the room's state, it was probably amazing that the clock was still here at all, let alone in working order.
"It's not looking very promising," the expert finished up, and Gina tuned back in.
"Pardon?"
"Any chance that the poor bloke died of anything but a heart attack from the sheer shock of it all. No marks on him. Either whomever did this found him lying dead here in the first place, or he came in afterwards, saw the mess, and collapsed. Of course-" here the woman snapped off her latex gloves, standing and looking at the mess about her "-I'll arrange for a post-mortem and fingerprints. Who knows, something could turn up. I wouldn't count on it though."
"Hm? Oh, thanks."
CID still weren't here yet. Gina had a feeling that this was a Good Thing.
There are always ways to tell whether or not a place belonged to someone who practiced magic. Pictures that moved were always a pretty good clue, but no Wizard who lived around too many muggles would have such a thing out in the open.
Wands however, were another story altogether. She'd found that in a corner of the room. No Wizard worth his salt would misplace his wand in a place like that, and it was at just the sort of angle that an Expelliarmus charm would send it flying to.
When you were a Witch on the Police Force, you tended to notice things like that. What others might take for a small stick, Gina knew as a wand. What a well-meaning Crime-Scene Investigator might take a picture of, Gina knew was a complex mathematical equation, written in the runes used for Arithmancy.
And what a few might see as a cloud of smoke in a fire, Gina knew to be the Dark Mark.
Thankfully, there was no fire, and no Dark Mark either, but the death of this Wizard still worried her.
Her past had been bound to catch up on her sooner or later. Until then, she'd just let the sleeping dog lie.
For now, however…
Gina checked that the wand was still in her pocket, then hurried outside to greet the CID officers, whoever they were, knowing full well that they wouldn't find a thing.
Maybe she'd send a message to the Ministry later.
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JK: Comments? Criticism? Go right on ahead, say it. Flames may be used to make s'mores, but that's about it.