THE VISION THIEF - D. MALFOY

2. the truth

I stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. I wait for him to smile and tell me he's kidding, especially given the seriousness of this situation, but when he doesn't I realize he isn't joking. "Sorry, what?" I question. "I know you must be thinking I'm crazy, but I'm serious. Do you believe in magic Emma?" He asks once again. I take a second to think. Hell no I don't believe in magic. It's what everyone tells you as a kid. They tell you magic isn't real and eventually you believe them. I blink hard. "Not really." I say. "I figured you would say that." He sighs. "I understand if you think I'm joking right now, believe me I would too, but just trust me on this." He says. He quickly stands up before he shuts the French doors to the living room, and pulls the blinds so the light coming in from the windows on the door disappears. He then moves to the windows and closes the shutters. In an instance, the room is nearly pitch black, and I'm left to wonder what in the world is going on. 

"Now, I know it's pitch black right now, but watch closely." He says. "Lumos." He speaks. What the hell is a lumos- 

In a split second, the whole room is illuminated by a bright white light. I look around in confusion to find my grandfather standing across the room, holding something that looks like a stick, and the tip protruding a bright white light. He then points towards the chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a white jet of light shoots across the room and appears as if it is almost transferred into the light fixture, as the chandelier lights up. I look up in awe as the room returns to a normal state because of the now lit chandelier. I immediately stand. "How did you do that?" I exclaim. He grins. "Magic." He simply says. "So you're a magician?" I ask, furrowing my brow. He laughs, amused. "No darling, a wizard." He says. I stare at him with an open jaw, before I can't help but let out a laugh. "Did you just say you're a wizard?" I ask, still laughing. He nods slowly. "Don't believe me?" He smirks. "Well the thing you did with the lights was pretty cool, but I don't even know how I can believe this. It just defies the laws of the universe." I say. 

"I know, I know, but I need to prove to you that magic is real before I can explain anything else." He begins before looking around the room. "Pick an object in the room, any object." He says. I look at him in confusion before scanning the room for myself. I walk over to the large bookshelves and quickly look across the collection of hundreds of books. "The Great Gatsby." I say, still facing the shelf. Without any warning, the book comes lose and rapidly flies past my face, straight into the hands of my Grandfather. "What the hell?" I mutter under my breath. "Pick something else." He says as he sets down the book. I point to a dark green silk pillow, "The pillow." I say. He points the stick in his hand, which I assume to be a wand, no matter how crazy that sounds, and the pillow begins to float in the air. He moves his wrist slightly and it begins to float towards me. "See for yourself, there's no strings holding it up at all right?" he says. I look at him, before moving my hand above and below the floating pillow. I glance back at him, not exactly sure what to think at this point. "Ok I guess I can believe you." I finally say.

"Good," He smiles as he takes a seat on the couch once again. "Now I can begin to explain." he says. I sit back down in the plush airmchair I was previously seated in, and take a sip of my tea. Without warning, grandpa flicks his wrist towards the closed blinds in the room and opens the blinds making me choke on my tea. He can't help but laugh a little. I clear my throat and roll my eyes. "You know your parents could do magic too. Same with John and Alice." He says. "Are you being serious?" I question. He nods. "So this whole time I've been living with John and Alice? My whole life? You all could do all that fancy stuff with a stick?" I question. I'm almost mad that I am now just figuring this all out. He nods once more. "Precisely." he says. "Why are you just now telling me this?" I ask. "Your whole life we have only sought to protect you. When you were just a baby, you're parents died as you know. However, they weren't just killed in an accident. They were murdered." He says. I let out a small gasp.