Using These 8 Words - October 2019

Ashley Marie

Staff member
Create a short story or poem using these 8 words.
Bonus points if you can use the first word, first.

Perfect, hibernation, fragile, crystal, seed, comfortable, eigenvector, and nasty.


Head of Ravenclaw House
Hermione studied the essay, brushing the feathers of her quill against her chin. After weeks of trying to teach Draco the more advanced mechanics of Arithmancy, he had finally approached her with confidence, holding out the parchment, pridefully.

"Malfoy, this is perfect," she said. "Truly, I couldn't have done better. Your theory about the heritage number - I never would have thought of such a thing!"

"It just made sense to me, given my...background," he drawled.

She pointed at one of the lines in the essay. "Do you really think this? That in a past life you were a dragon awoken from hibernation?"

"Maybe," Draco mumbled, his cheeks tinging pink. "According to the book, my personality number is - " He made a face. " - fragile."

"I don't think you should doubt yourself," Hermione said, reading the line to herself again. "Really well done, honestly. The bit about the crystal brain and the comfortable silence of compartmentalization - I don't think I've ever read anything so profound. You're really going to impress Vector with this. I mean, we haven't even gotten to the chapter on eigenvector language, but you've covered it with a seemingly flawless understanding of it."

"Good news for me. I could use some good marks in that class." His silver eyes trailed across the sky. "Looks like a nasty storm may be rolling in. We ought to get back to the castle."

With that, they collected their belongings and quietly started their trek through the snow.


New member
Ollivander observed the perfect black ash the boy brought in. He asked,

"How did you get it?"

The boy grinned wide and answered,

"My friend told me where to find it. Actually, she lives there."

"There?" Seeing a green creature peeping from a pocket of the boy's white shirt, Ollivander imagined a toad waking up from hibernation.

"Could you please make my wand from the wood?" He pleaded with Ollivander for consent. "And... I want you to use this as the core." He took out a seashell from the pocket of his trousers.

It looked fragile, but beautiful. The inside of it threw a tiny rainbow which glimmered under the lamp of the shop.

The boy was now looking into a crystal ball on the desk with much interest. "Can you predict the future through this?"

"No. I placed it for only my entertainment." He noticed the scattered sunflower seeds by the knife. He had already planned to cut the ash wood.

The boy smiled and seemed to be more comfortable than before. He looked up the piles of boxes which got longer upwards like eigenvectors. "How many wands have you made?"

Ollivander shrugged, "I don't know." He watched the boy again. It seemed that he had no nasty mind. "What's your name?"

The boy answered, "Newton Scamander." He kept looking at the piles of the wand boxes with a great fascination.