Chapter 4 - Magic

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"Well that was dramatic." Mrs. O'Sullivan stood up her back to a grand fireplace, decorated with flying ravens. Thomas blink once, twice to confirm but the raven were flying across the mantel. The marvel of seeing the wood grain move and breath with the bird amazed Thomas. Sitting in trees that made the sides. Taking notice of Thomas staring eyes, one turned and winked at him.

"Your-your ravens are winking." Thomas gaped in wonder. Could wood always do that? No, then perhaps the O'Sullivan's were demons like the Rows claimed. If they were... Thomas looked at the smiling women, and colourful boy who had saved him. He wouldn't care.

"They do that." Mrs. O'Sullivan waved that off. Lars groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You know Mother." Lars came over and pulled Thomas away from the fireplace. To the purple and cherry wood settee that was before it. Pushing Thomas by the shoulders, he got him to sit. Thomas looked at the wood of the settee but was a bit sad not to see any moving parts. "I doubt Thomas has seen that sort of thing before." Lars sat beside Thomas. Patting his knee, he got Thomas's attention. "I must say Thomas you're taking this rather well."

Thomas shrugged. I mean teleportation to another room? A bit shocking. Thomas couldn't say it was normal by any means, but neither was pointing a stick at people. Calling people muggles and Thomas still hadn't forgotten about that. Having a fireplace where the carvings moved, it was all strange. Peeking around Mrs. O'Sullivan he could see a few ravens now perched on the top of the mantle. Strutting around while he looked on. It was more fascinating than scary.

"Oh, right!" Mrs. O'Sullivan tapped her fist into an open hand. "I tend to forget the small details." Mrs. O'Sullivan grabbed a yellowed envelope from behind one of the birds. "This will straighten things right up." She passed Thomas the letter. Taking in with gentle hands, Thomas looked at the front of his first ever piece of mail.

"That's how you're going to explain it?" Lars slapped his forward with his palm. "I should have waited for Father." Lars grumbled beside him.

"The Nest?" Thomas asked out loud. Wondering where that was after reading the emerald green letters. That were addressed Mr. T. Cloverleigh, Second Floor- Joint Room, The Nest.

"He hasn't even opened it yet, and you've already confused him." Lars sighed and slumped to his corner of the settee.

"Oh hush." Mrs. O'Sullivan knelt in front of Thomas. Her hands rubbed his knees. "This is the Nest. This is our home." Thomas nodded at those stormy eyes. Not ready to believe that this nice place was his home. That despite only seeing one room, it was already way nicer than the orphanage.

"Open it and I'll answer any questions." Mrs. O'Sullivan folded her legs down, getting more comfortable on the floor. Thomas looked at the floor. The carpet looked nice and soft, but shouldn't she be on the seat and him on the floor?

"Mother likes sitting on the floor." Lars spoke up. Leaning back, comfortable in his slouched position.

"It's true!" Mrs. O'Sullivan nodded and clapped her hands together. "Traditional seating is so restricting!" Thomas nodded, many chairs back were hard and uncomfortable. Maybe the floor is better. Thomas looked at the cushy cream rug Mrs. O'Sullivan sat on. It did look comfy.

"Can-can I sit with you?" Thomas stuttered out, wanting to try it but not wanting to seem needy or anything.

"The more, the merrier!" Mrs. O'Sullivan scooted back in her skirt and Thomas slid of the settee and sat on the floor. It was better! "Better?" Thomas nodded it was much softer than the settee, and he could stretch his legs out too.

"You've gone and ruined him mother." Lars laughed, flipping his legs onto the settee to stretch out. "More room for me." Lars grinned. Thomas shook his head, and he felt a rare smile form on his lips. Everyone was so happy here.

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