Title: Science & Magic

Summary: CSI x Harry Potter crossover. What happens when investigating a murder scene and there is no explanation for the cause of death? Well, one CSI gets a surprise visit from a family member that reminds him of his past and helps him to solve the case. AU

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or Harry Potter. Sorry fellas, but I don’t.

A/N: I’ve been meaning to cross over these two things since I absolutely love both of them to death. So, here it goes.

Chapter 1

One dark, stormy night, twenty-six year old Sean Fortunus was sitting in his home in Las Vegas when a surprise knock came to his door. Who would possibly be calling at this time of night? Slowly, he pulled out what seemed to be a wooden stick from his sleeve and shouted in a British accent, “Who’s there?”

“Mr. Fortunus, its Mr. Stonewall from across the way. I just wanted to see if you had a cup of sugar. I seem to be all out.”

Mr. Stonewall’s explanation for calling so late seemed a bit sketchy, but if it really was him, he couldn’t keep him out in the rain for much longer. With his stick still in his hand, he cautiously walked over to the door. Slowly, he took a deep breath and opened the door, pointing his stick at the man. And it was a good thing he did, because he had never recognized the man. “You’re not Mr. Stonewall!”

Suddenly, the eerie man pointed a similar stick to Mr. Fortunus and muttered something under his breath. A green light shone out from the point of his stick and sent Mr. Fortunus flying back into his house, his face full of death. The stranger smiled and placed his stick beneath his cloak and walked back into the rainy outdoors. As he stood in the middle of the rode, a loud CRACK! sounded around him and he was gone in a flash.

---

The rain had just let up as a large black SUV pulled up in front of Mr. Fortunus’s house. Surrounding the car and the house was yellow crime scene tape and a number of reporters. It wasn’t long for the car to finally come to a complete stop and for two men to step out of the car. The first was an old man with grayish hair that seemed rather intellectual, yet intimidating at the same time. The other was a slightly younger man with brown hair and a cheerful look. Their names were Gil Grissom and Greg Sanders, each from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. They were there to examine the death of Sean Fortunus. As they made their way to the front porch, they were met by Captain Jim Brass, long time friend of both. “Hey guys. Welcome to the home of Mr. Sean Fortunus. He was found by his next door neighbor, Mr. Jack Stonewall.”

Brass led Grissom and Sanders into the living room where they found David Phillips kneeling next to the dead body. “What do you got, Super Dave?” asked Greg.

“Dead male in his twenties. Based on liver temp, I’m guessing he’s been dead around six hours.”

“There seems to be no signs of trauma,” stated Grissom.

“Well, sometimes it takes a body longer to reveal bruises and abrasions. We should be able to know more after autopsy,” replied David.

Grissom shone his flashlight on Mr. Fortunus's face as Greg knelt down next to David. "This seems a bit weird, doesn't it?" asked Grissom.

"I guess it depends on your interpretation of weird," was Greg's reply as he stared at the stone face of the Mr. Fortunus.

"Why don't you go ahead and take the body. I'll take the scene," stated Grissom.

Both Greg and David looked at Grissom in shock. "Are you sure? I mean, if you want to take the body, you can. I was just trying to get a better look at…" began Greg.

"No, you go ahead. I could do with a change," replied Grissom as he went to process the scene. As Grissom walked away, Greg turned to David and said, "Well, that was weird."

David just nodded as Greg took his own flashlight and scanned the body. It was odd. The body was lying straight, he wasn't at any weird angles and there were no bruises insinuating any harsh blows. There was only one explanation that kept popping into Greg's head, but he put it far back in his head as he possibly could. They couldn't possibly know that he was here…could they? "Is it alright if I can search him now?" asked Greg.

David took one more glance at the body and replied, "I don’t see any reason why not."

Greg thanked David and went on to search through Fortunus's pockets. As Greg went over the man's sleeves, he felt something hidden. Slowly, he pulled it out only to come up with what looked to be a fancy stick. Greg's eyes shot open wide as he pulled the thing into view. "What is that?" asked David, noticing the weird find in Greg's hands.

"Uh…I don't know. I'll just take it back to the lab and…uh, find out," said Greg a little shaky.

Grissom heard the tremor in Greg's voice, but continued to examine the scene. Slowly, after Greg was done examining the body, he stood up and told David, "Why don't you go ahead and take him back to the morgue."

David nodded and called in the rest of the coroners to haul the body away. As they placed the body on the gurney and rolled him away, Grissom walked up behind Greg and asked, "Are you alright?"

Greg practically jumped out of his skin as he turned to look at his supervisor. "Yeah, I’m fine…just, uh…"

"Why don't you go get some rest. I can call in Nick to help process the scene. You look a little worn out anyway."

Greg shook his head, replying, "No, I'm fine…really…"

"Greg, this is not a suggestion."

Realizing what Grissom meant, Greg nodded and gathered his things as he headed out to the car. Before he left, he turned to Grissom and said, "Oh Grissom, can you take the w…weird stick I found in his sleeves back to the lab for me? I'll process it when I get back."

Grissom nodded in confusion as Greg placed the bag with the stick on the table and walked out of the scene.

---

Meanwhile, far in a different country stood a rickety old house consisting of a large, but poor family. From inside came a shrilly, British woman's voice sounding, "Arthur! Arthur, come quick!"

The shouting came from a plump woman with red hair in a dress and apron. From the top of the stairs came the man formerly known as Arthur, dressed in dirty, old clothes and a silly bowler hat. "What is it Molly?" he asked.

"Take a look at the Prophet!"

Arthur came walking over and took the paper from Molly's hands. It was a newspaper with the headlines:

MINISTRY OFFICIAL FOUND DEAD IN HIS HOME IN AMERICA

"Is that…?" began Arthur.

"What was Fortunus doing out in America anyway?" asked Molly.

Before Arthur could answer, a young girl of nineteen and a boy that could not have been any more than twenty came walking down the stairs. The girl had flaming red hair, as did her brother. "What's going on?" asked the girl.

"We heard raised voices," continued the boy.

Molly and Arthur exchanged glances, unable to respond to their children. The boy and girl sighed as they walked up to their mother and father and the girl said, "Are you going to tell us or are we going to have to figure it out ourselves?"

"Well, you see, Ginny dear…" began Molly.

The boy, knowing that his mother was going to relay some rubbish to them, took the paper from his father's hands and read the article. "Wait, is that…?" began the boy.

Ginny came walking over and looked at the picture. "What does this mean, Mum?"

Before Molly could answer, the boy shouted, "Hey! Is that Eric?"

The family looked into the picture and saw the moving form of a man no more than age thirty-three examining Fortunus's body. "Merlin's pants! It is Eric! So that is what Fortunus was doing in the states," stated Arthur.

Ginny and the boy looked at their parents. "Are you going to be telling us what's going on now?" asked Ginny.

"Of course not, Ginny," replied the boy as he took his cloak from the coat rack and walked outside. "And where do you think you're going, young man?" demanded Arthur.

"I'm going to find Eric. He'll tell me what's going on."

"RONALD WEASLEY! YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" shouted Molly.

But Ron ignored her and ran out into the middle of the yard. Arthur, Molly and Ginny went running after him, only to see him disappear with a loud CRACK!

---

Greg had just returned home, ideas and memories buzzing in his head. As he slammed the door closed, he threw his keys onto the kitchen counter and fell onto his couch. How could this possibly be happening? He had been so careful all of these years, where had he gone wrong? As Greg lay on his couch and threw a pillow on top of his head, a knocking came at his door. "Go away!" came Greg's muffled voice.

But the knocking continued. Frustrated, Greg threw the pillow off of his head and proceeded to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a boy of twenty with flaming red hair. "E…Eric?" asked the boy in his thick British accent.

"Ron? What are you doing here?"

TBC…

I know, evil cliffhangers. ; p Please read and review!