AN: Alright next chapter up! Thanks to Lucy, my awesome beta!

I revamped the end of this chapter a bit to get it back on track. I intend to finally update this very soon. Strongly considering a Johnlock approach but not entirely sure yet.

Please review!

Being cornered again, John looked up at his flatmate, but he knew that he wouldn't get away with lies this time. It suddenly hit him, that Sherlock had only ever started to be so incredibly clumsy, after John had repaired the skull. He'd had a bad feeling about it from the start, but he had done it for the sake of his friendship with the detective. And now it had blown up in his face.

The Statutes of Secrecy forbade any witch or wizard telling a muggle what he or she was, of course with the exception of married couples with children or muggleborn wizarding children. 'Damn the man who invented this,' John thought, 'this guy probably never had to deal with Sherlock bloody Holmes!'

If he told Sherlock and anyone found out, they would erase his memory. He knew how the spell worked, and he could do such a thing himself, but meddling with someone's mind like this would leave marks. And Sherlock being who he was he would find something out again, and again and again. His other option was putting Sherlock off his track, like he had done in the alley this morning. But he had been incredibly mean when he did it. Truth being told Sherlock did have the emotional range of a spoon sometimes, but this time he had actually been right about what had passed between him and Anthea. And obviously sulking didn't keep Sherlock occupied for long anyway.

"Sherlock look this isn't as simple as that...," John started, trying to get away from Sherlock's grip on his wrists.

"Why?" the detective answered, glaring at John, not letting the doctor move even an inch.

"If I tell you, there will be consequences, Sherlock. Serious consequences." John replied, once again trying to reason with the detective. But he knew already, before he had finished talking, that it was no good. It only made Sherlock loom even closer over him.

"Alright, alright Sherlock, we will talk," John then said resignation clearly audible in his voice.

"Then talk, John!" the other demanded, still not letting go of the doctor.

"Not like this. Come on let's sit and I'll try to explain..." John answered with a sigh. Convinced that the doctor wasn't trying to get off the hook again, Sherlock dropped his arms and flopped himself onto the couch, his eyes firmly on his companion.

"You must keep secret what you hear now. I'm not supposed to tell anyone, and the only exception to this rule are spouses, children or parents, OK Sherlock?" John asked the detective with a serious voice, sitting down next to Sherlock. Waiting until the other had nodded his consent before continuing.

"Magic exists. There are some people who can cast spells to do all sorts of things, like transfiguration, transport, conjure objects out of nothing and so on. Almost anything you can imagine. Those people are called witches or wizards. Can you follow me so far?" John started, watching every one of Sherlock's reactions but the detective stayed remarkably calm.

"I'm not stupid John, of course I can follow. So you point a stick at something and then poof? What is this magic, some kind of genetic thing?"

"So you saw me repairing the skull right?" John asked, as it had been the only time he had actually used his wand for anything. "Figures... But yes, basically that's it. As for your other question. I don't know. But magic is usually inherited from the parents, so I think it may be some combination of genes. There are also witches and wizards from entirely non-magic families though, like myself. Childred are born with it."

"Yes I saw you, I was looking for it when you sneaked into your room, so I waited in the closet," Sherlock replied, before asking some more questions. "And how did you learn this? Where? And why are you a doctor then if you can do this magic thing?"

"There is a school for magical children, that's where I learned. And I am not a normal doctor, I'm what they call a healer. That's the magical version of a doctor. I was in the army to find out if the non-magical soldiers were unknowingly attacked with any magic devices. It does happen." John explained, still watching Sherlock closely. " You seem to take this well Sherlock..." he started, but was interrupted by the detective.

"If you rule out all impossible solutions, the remaining one, however improbable it seems, must be the right one. My words, remember? This concept of magic is very ... fascinating.", Sherlock replied with his usual calm demeanor, pondering a moment before he continued, "And this is a complete secret? How? From your rambling explanation it sounds as if wizards are very well organized."

John nodded, "Yes, they are, we are. There's a wizard government so to say. It's there to make sure that non magical people don't find out about magic, and that no wizard can use his power over innocent people. It happened before and it caused a lot of damage, so much that it was noticable for muggles, that's non-magical people. The last time just in the late nineties."

"Really, late nineties?", Sherlock ansered to John last revelations, gazing at the doctor with slightly narrowed eyes, "damages like wreaking havoc all over the country? I always wondered why this bridge in Brockdale collapsed in 1996, I looked at the reports and there were no signs of any cause I could think of."

"Summer 1996 was the first year of the war. And you are right," John started in a tone suggesting the unspoken 'as usual', "that bridge was destroyed by dark wizards... I was a healer on the scene.", he continued with a much more subdued tone. With a sigh, he leaned back into the couch for a moment, before his head snapped towards the detective again, "Seriously Sherlock? I tell you magic exists and all you ask is if you were right about one of your previously unsolved puzzles?"

"Do keep up John, when do I let mysteries unsolved if I can avoid it?", Sherlock replied unfazed by his friend's snappy tone, " speaking of which, what was that stunt you pulled with Anthea today?"

"Anthea? She's a witch, an auror to be precise, uhm you could best describe that as some magical bodyguard or police. They are really skilled in combat and defence but also in a lot of other stuff. Healers and aurors have a lot of training in common, the healers have medical classes and less offensive skills though. We are still pretty good combatants, especially when it comes to defensive spells. For that reason wizarding tactical teams often consist of a healer and an auror for example when we are placed as a watch on important muggles, to protect them. There are wizards out there who would, given the chance, magically force someone from the government to do what they want, or even impersonate those persons. It's Anthea's job to protect Mycroft against such occurences."

"And what happened today then?"

"She tried to read your mind. I don't know why though. Maybe she tries it on everyone around your brother on a regular basis? I felt it though and blocked her. That's what ruffled her feathers today" John replied with a smug smile. "Watch it outside of this flat though Sherlock, I was not lying when I said it is forbidden to say a word to any non-magic person. There are trained wizards to erase any memory of magic in non-magic people. That is very dangerous though and can cause damage to the brain. I don't want them to lay their hands on you. And believe me if Anthea finds out she will report it. She already tried to break into our minds today. I can block her out but I can't protect you against everything."

At this now Sherlock did look slightly alarmed. While the prospect of magic was more fascinating than alarming to him, the idea of someone meddling with his brain was apparently too much.

"So we keep quiet about this then?" he asked with a more genuinely concerned tone.

"Yes, until we can think of a solution to this problem."