Written for another liker! Sorry it's mega late! Potterlock in which John was an Auror but he left the service for a quiet life, and Sherlock doesn't know that he is a wizard. By the way, more shameless plugging, if you haven't yet, go like Johnlockian on facebook! Here's the link: pages/Johnlockian/407244259397751
John rushed about the flat. Waving his wand in satisfaction. It wasn't often his flatmate was out for the day without him, giving him a chance to use his magic. He watched happily as the items in the room sorted themselves back into place. He had missed being able to use his magic every day. That was the number one disadvantage to living amongst the muggles. He felt as if he were hiding a part of himself. He had gotten pretty good at hiding that part though, if even the world's greatest consulting detective couldn't figure it out.
Steps sounded on the stairs. John froze in place, hiding his wand quickly by stuffing it down the back of his pants. He had never had his wand on his person in Sherlock's presence before, always too afraid that Sherlock would see it. Sherlock busted in the flat, stormed dramatically over to the couch, and threw himself down on it in a wild fit that spoke of seeking attention. John rolled his eyes and exhaled a deep breath he had been holding. John took his time, slowly traipsing over to his chair and sitting down, careful to sit so he wouldn't break his wand.
"What is that?" Sherlock asked, without looking at him.
"What's what?" Sherlock's head snapped to the side, his eyes narrowing, his lips pursing.
"That large wooden rod you have shoved down your pants, and don't be daft, you know what I mean." John felt his mouth go dry suddenly.
"Erm . . . It's . . . nothing."
"Don't lie, it's obviously very important to you, or you wouldn't have taken such care not to snap it when you sat, and you wouldn't have hidden it from me." John knew it was against the rules, knew he could have his magic stripped for good, but he honestly thought the only way Sherlock would leave him alone is if he told the truth, even if he didn't believe it, he would obviously see that John did, and either admit him to a psychiatric ward or just leave it be. John took the wand out and held it in his hands before him.
"Sherlock this is my . . . my wand."
"Your . . .what?"
"Did you ever wonder how the tea makes itself in the morning? Or how I manage to clean the flat so quickly? Or how I seem to work miracles at the surgery that no one has ever even heard of before?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John's words, his face incredulous as though he didn't understand.
"Those aren't all normal human things?" Of course. John was finally showing his flatmate how bloody spectacular he really was, and the damn arse only assumed every human was equally as magical.
"No Sherlock, they're not." John almost yelled, and then he lowered his voice, aware of Mrs. Hudson downstairs. She was might tell the ministry if she found out John told Sherlock the truth. "I'm a wizard Sherlock." He said, plainly. John watched as Sherlock deduced his face. It was like watching someone read a book, watching their eyes flit across the page, John was getting so good at decoding his best friend it was as if he were in Sherlock's brain with him sometimes. He watched as Sherlock checked his eye movement for tell-tale signs of lies, his forehead for sweat. He watched as Sherlock realized John was telling the truth, or at least believed he was. Sherlock realized the truth and he just stared. Now Sherlock's thought process was lost to John, if there was a thought process at all. Maybe his brain had shut down. John just waited.
Minutes passed. John looked up at the clock and watched as time ticked by. The detective didn't move. It hardly even seemed he was breathing. Finally John asked,
"Sherlock?" And that seemed to break the trance. Sherlock sat bolt upright on the sofa.
"Prove it." Sherlock demanded. "Prove you're a wizard." John should've been expecting this, but to be honest, he wasn't. What magic trick could he preform that Sherlock couldn't come up with some false excuse for? Oh, the patronus charm! Of course! He summoned up a happy memory, one with Sherlock in this very room.
"The victim couldn't have done it, it's against the rules!" John had shouted, agape at the audacity of the man before him. Sherlock got up and stormed around, waving his arms enthusiastically.
"WELL THE RULES ARE WRONG!"
It shouldn't have been a happy memory, John should have been angry about it still. But to be honest it made him laugh. He had even laughed then, and Sherlock had snapped at him for laughing but it couldn't be helped. He laughed with affection for his friend. He summoned up his patronus charm and the little being made of light flowed from the end of his wand and went to circle around his best friend. Sherlock sat up and stared at it in awe.
"What does this do?" He asked, trying to poke it, but it scooted back happily and then twined itself around Sherlock's arm. John chuckled.
"It's supposed to ward of dementors, monsters that steal your happiness."
"Why is it an otter?" The patronus and the man both looked at him at the same time, waiting for an explanation. It was then that John realized how alike his patronus was to his best friend. He was lost for words.
"I . . . I don't . . . wow it looks just like you." John stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Sherlock and the otter both cocked their heads to the side.
"I ward off your unhappiness?" Sherlock asked, confused. John chuckled again.
"Yeah. I guess you do, when you're not the one causing it." The patronus charm evaporated and Sherlock stood up.
"So you're actually a wizard?"
"Yes. Yes I really am. But you can't tell anyone you know or I'll be reported." Sherlock nodded briskly and went over to the bookshelf.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, no one must know, so we'd better get Mycroft's cameras out of here, even though he'll just have them replaced next time he's out." John laughed again. Sherlock turned suddenly.
"No!" John nodded, still laughing. "Mycroft too?"
"He's a squib."
"A what?"
"Well, technically you are both squibs. A human born into a wizarding family with no magical powers. It caused Mycroft a lot of trouble, so they decided not to tell you at all."
"So my parents?" John nodded.
"How else would they have put up with you two?" Sherlock's face suddenly saddened.
"So . . . you are only able to . . . tolerate me through magic?" John stood up and crossed the room to Sherlock, issuing a small charm to push the man closer to him as he kissed him softly on the lips. He came out about being a wizard today, might as well come out all the way.
"No Sherlock, I am able to tolerate you through love." When John looked up at his best friend, nervous of what he might see, he just saw a small blush playing across Sherlock's sharp cheekbones.
"Oh. I see."
"That's all you have to say?" Sherlock pulled John in by his jumper and planted a frantic kiss on his lips.
"It's all fine." He told his doctor. "Care to show me more magic tricks?" John couldn't believe the words coming out of Sherlock's mouth.
"You have no idea."
And I didn't even kill everyone this time!