"I, er, I dunno." Good job, Watson. That was totally believable. "Where did you find it?"

"Under the loose floorboard beneath your bed. I have to applaud you; it wasn't easy to find." Of course it wasn't easy to find. I'd used a charm to disguise the crack.

"Really? I have no clue what it is?" I needed to play my cards just right. With any luck, he'll have just found it and not remember last night.

"Interesting piece of wood. Seems to be made from oak, just over ten inches long, and carefully carved and polished. It has a handle, meaning it is meant to be held like so." He demonstrated by taking the wand in his right hand and flicking. I flinched, but he was a Muggle, so I wasn't in danger of him cursing me. "It's made for a hand smaller than mine. Yours, on the other hand, appears to be just about the right size."

Did he remember last night, or was he just deducing. He was really good at making it seem like he knew more than he actually did. But he did remember things from last night that really shouldn't have. I was standing on a very dangerous fence. On one side, I was in danger of breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, and on the other, Sherlock was about to be hauled off by the Ministry and kept in some sort of protective custody. After all, they couldn't let a Muggle who was resistant to Memory Charms wander around with their secret.

"Hm, that's strange," I replied. Now was definitely not the time to break. "I've never seen it before."

"Then you won't mind if I burn it?" he asked as he strolled over to the fireplace and held the wand just far enough above the flames to avoid damage. I hadn't even noticed there was a fire.

"Stop!" I said sharply. So much for keeping the secret. "It's mine."

"I thought you might see sense." He stepped away from the grate, but instead of handing the wand back to me, he slipped it back into his pocket. My eyes followed the motion, and I knew he saw it.

"So, John," he began as he flopped into his chair. I winced. The wand had magical reinforcement, but I really did not want to put it to the test. "What do you know?"

I slowly lowered myself into my chair. "How much do you know?" Sherlock's scathing expression told me exactly what he thought of that question. "It's important," I added. "I have to know before I can tell you."

"Why?"

"Because there are rules I have to follow."

"You want to know what I know?" His tone had slipped into a very dangerous one. "Very well. I know that there's a place in London where I can fall through a solid roof for absolutely no reason. I know that with the flick of a stick , people can break the rules of physics and do the impossible. I know that there was a murder that made a person drop dead from nothing. I know that my best friend know exactly what happened but refuses to tell me a word about it." Sherlock's voice had risen through the entire speech until he was yelling. He sounded...hurt?

"So the Memory Charm didn't work then?" Of course it didn't. Sherlock's mind just didn't follow the rules.

"So that's what that was? You tried to make me forget?"

"Not me. Them. Muggles aren't supposed to know."

"About?" He was leaning forward, he fingers were steepled in front of his chin. There were a myriad of emotions splashed across his face. Confusion, anger, hurt, and that longing for knowledge. I rarely got to see that side of him, but when I did, I sort of like it.

"Magic." Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Sherlock? Are-are you okay?" Great. I broke him. All that amazing brainpower, and I had to be the one to break it.

His eyes snapped open. "I'm fine. Just processing." He closed his eyes again, but a moment later, they snapped open. "How does magic work?"

Of course he'd go to the most complicated question first. "No one really knows. There's a lot of study in Magical Theory, but there's nothing definitive.

"And there is a large population of…?"

"Witches and wizards. And yeah, it's fairly sizeable, especially after the war."

"What war?" The question came immediately.

"You think crime only exists in the Muggle world?" I asked wryly. "There was a...dictator who overthrew the government. We're such a small, tight-knit community that it really wasn't that hard. Too many people wanted to believe that everything was fine when that was far from the truth."

"You said there was crime. I'm assuming there is law enforcement as well."

I combed my fingers through my hair. I was going to be here forever. "Yeah, there's two branches. The first is the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. They deal with everyday stuff. Mostly has to do with anything that might expose us."

"And the second branch?" he prompted.

"The Aurors." There might just have been a hint of reverence in my voice for that one. "They hunt dark wizards."

"I see." Sherlock contemplated this for a moment. "I assume you are a wizard as you have a wand."

"Yeah." And there it was. I was going to have to figure this out. I had no idea what I was going to do about this. Sherlock looked far too delighted by that.

"You were an Auror."

I laughed harshly. "Was it really that obvious?"

He smirked. "Of course."

"What gave me away?"

"Beside the blatant longing in your voice when you mentioned it? You have previous law enforcement experience, but not at the level of a beat officer. You have the skills of someone who dealt with dangerous people in an official capacity. Some would attribute that to your military service, but it runs deeper than that. In the military it was shoot or be shot. In law enforcement, containment and questioning were key. You've demonstrated an ability to do both."

I raised my hand to stop him as he drew breath. "Got it."

"How did you learn magic?"

"Boarding school. Hogwarts. It's actually the one that the girl went to. Best school you can go to. Only one in Britain."

"And where we were last night?"

"Diagon Alley. Mostly full of shops. It's where we buy magical supplies. Potion ingredients, robes, books."

Sherlock's eyes brightened. "How do I get in? You can't all just fall in like that."

"No, there's an entrance. You have to have a wand."

"So you can go in."

"Yeah." He was looking too excited. Like he was going to ask-

"Can you bring me with you?"

Yep. "No, Sherlock, I can't. It's against the rules."

"Forget the rules!" he said with disgust.

"I can't Sherlock. Do you have any idea what will happen if they find out that the Memory Charm didn't work on you? Our most important rule is to remain secret. At all costs."

"They'd put me under arrest, I'd escape, and probably gain vital information in the process."

"No, Sherlock." He was rather thick at times. "They'd capture you, and they'd put you somewhere where you can't escape, and they will never let you go."

He snorted. "You think there's a prison I can't escape from?"

"A magical one, Sherlock, yes. Remember, they break the rules of physics, as you like to say."

"What do they do for those with families who are not magical?"

"They have exception. Families and significant others are allowed to know, but they have to be sworn to secrecy."

"We can do that."

"Do what?" Did he really mean what I thought he meant.

"We can pose as partners. That way, you don't have to worry about them trying to take me, and I can get the vital information I need to solve this murder."

It was crazy. Why would I pose as Sherlock's partner? I'd be torturing myself. he didn't want me like that. Still, it might actually work.

Shit.