Hello everybody! Thank you for following my story, and for the enthusiasm some of you have expressed for it in the comments.

I have good news, and I have bad news. Bad news first. This story is discontinued, and I have no intention of posting more updates for it ever. Sorry.

Now good news: I am posting a re-write of it from scratch with story direction.

What happened is that I started writing it like fan-fiction, posting it unedited and chapter-by-chapter. For the new fic - called simply Secrets of Magica - I will post 3 chapters every 3 months, a better schedule for me.

I have also started writing an original novel, which is what's kept me from writing updates. That obviously takes priority, although I intend to keep updating the new SOM every three months steadily. The plan for that story is to do seven books, each of at least about 70k words. It will of course be free of charge, being fan-fiction.

Within 3 months, I will post the first 3 chapter of Secrets of Magica, Book one.

The following is the unfinished chapter 28, which I have NOT proof-read: So excuse the presumably many mistakes.

Winter break was over, and all the students had returned to Hogwarts. It had been an uneventful few weeks, and one of the best times of Harry's life. He had been left alone, well fed, and had even found pleasant company in the form of Theodore Nott.

Nott was quiet and extremely reserved, and reminded him of Hermione to a point. But there was something different to Nott, a form of sophistication that Harry immediately came to admire. It seemed impossible to upset the boy. Other than Tom Riddle's diary, Theodore was the only boy of Harry's age who stayed in the Slytherin dorms for during the vacation.

Even Harry had enough tact not to ask why. But during the great feast to welcome the students to school, Theodore and Harry sat together.

"So", Harry said, "the ministry didn't use to interfere at Hogwarts at all?".

Theodore shook his head. "That's what I'm telling you. The ministry has changed, from what it was. Changed from how it was meant to be. It was only established to enforce the statute of secrecy - see? All the rest of its power came as an addition."

Sometimes, when Theodore talked, he sounded like an adult. This was one of those times. Harry frowned. "How did that happened? If they didn't used to have power like that, how did they get it?".

Theodore smiled, the conversation very much going his way. "Corruption. When they first started checking houses for traces of ritualistic magic, what they now call "dark" magic, they claimed only to look for traces of certain and very specific spells, such as balefire. Then they added another spell, and then another. Today, there are hardly any defensive charms that are still legal. Even in self defence."

"Even in self defence?". This did not sound very plausible to Harry. "Why? If every cutting spell is illegal, does that mean that the one people use to, uhm... is that one illegal?".

There was a spell which was only used in the Slytherin dungeons. The older children used it on each other, in a dangerous and painful game called "base". Different teams would fight it out in the Slytherin dungeons, to either neutralize the other team or storm into their "base". The spell would cut you where it hit, and healing potions would remove the wound afterwards.

Theodore nodded. "Yes. Playing base could be punishable by Azkaban, depending on how the law is interpreted. Of course, since the Wizengamot consists of noble houses and plenty of Slytherins, nobody would ever be convicted for the game. But the principle is the same." Theodore had a frankly amazing knowledge of wizarding law and customs, saying his father had bought him expensive tutors in every relevant topic.

To Harry all of this was fascinating. It was a bit dry, sometimes, but it was real. Real magic and real laws. The ministry of magic, the actual wizarding government, had highly trained experts who enforced and interpreted these laws.

When he had heard about aurors in the path, wizards who hunted dark wizards, he had thought it sounded exciting and glamorous. As Theodore described it, they were little more than glorified policemen, who usually dealt with things like cursed muggle artefacts and tax evasion. In some cases, he said they were little more than extortionists.

Harry and Theodore both finished their meals and started on desert. But just as everyone had filled their plates a loud and clear "plink plink plink" was heard throughout the great hall. Headmaster Dumbledore was tabbing his glass, and Harry was surprised to see that the teacher's table was swarmed by men wearing the familiar coats of aurors.

Theodore frowned. "Speak of the devil". Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat, seeming as ancient and mysterious as ever.

"I hope, dear children, you will all forgive me for interrupting your deserts. I have an unfortunate announcement to make. There has been an attack on magical Britain, and you will all have to return to your dormitories. You will be told everything once you get there."

They were all led away by prefects and teachers, then, with a grim professor Snape hearding any who delayed. No Slytherin found it wise to talk, although the children of all other houses were whispering.

They soon arrived in the dungeons, and everyone turned towards their head of house. He did not keep the truth from them for long. "Azkaban has been breached", he said. "The Muscowites are currently considered likely suspects. We believe this is relatiation for perceived British support for the fall of the Soviet Union."

There was a long silence, and a lot of children look at each other confused. Snake smirked. "The Soviet Union, for those of you who do not know, is the muggle institution of control created by the Muscowites. It has allowed them to extend their influence beyond traditional borders, and now it has collapsed. They are blaming us."

There was whisper but Snape cut it off. "Silence! There is more. While the security of Azkaban has been restored, a number of escapes have already been confirmed. This includes Bellatrix Lestrange, Bartemious Crouch Junior and Antonin Dolohov." The silence that had already fallen became absolute.

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That's all, I'm afraid!