Joy lit up Hilda’s adorable and shiny features and her internal organs were allegorically bursting at the seams with excitement. Her auburn suitcase was clutched so tightly in her left fist that the rounded projections in her delicate hand had gone pallid with the endeavor to be a sentinel of the bag; guarding it from aggressors of the thieving kind that loitered in the shadows. Her suitcase held many (mint condition) quills from killdares, frittergulls, whizzlefloops, ravens, and a single Pheonixclaw quill. (It, as I cited prior to this, is quite infrequent and posh.) She had her robes recently dry cleaned, and they were inside her valise, neatly folded and color-coded as if they were on display at the Gap store. Her fresh-off-the-press textbooks were stacked precisely corner to corner, free of any frays or abnormally enlarged corners, since they were all the exact same size. Her elixir and potion making apparatus were neatly systemized in such a way so that they would not seep from the bag and saturate the supplementary contents. Her personal chattels were primly stacked in a miniscule corner. Her makeup was fresh and free of usage, and was of quality kind.
And finally, she had a new supply of scented candles for when the light dimmed over the horizon and she wished to be either studious or social. Also, she had her pets. She didn’t have any human pets, but she did have Witch pets. She had the same pets as Gilda. She had: a male, yellow pufflenuff that was named Tango, a female zicklehax named krookee, female killdare named Sheelah, and a male Pheonixclaw named frare-eekonan. “Hey mom,” Hilda commenced nonchalantly. “When we get to the portal bench may I perform the combination? I’ve studied it unremittingly and assiduously and I believe I am now primed to execute it.” Hilda said in a sophisticated tone as an attempt to induce her mother to agree to it. “Sure dear.” Mrs. Grant replied, prompt to riposte. Hilda was knocked for six. “Really?” She asked with her eyebrows glued to her hairline. “Sure dear you’re old enough.”
Hilda’s eyes glistened with euphoria and fervor. But she managed to keep the rest of herself appearing composed in what was the utmost of sophistication. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and went to retrieve her wand, but then realized that the wand she had was not activated and hadn’t worked for the past twelve centuries. “Uh, heh, ummm…” Gilda began. “Oh! Right.” Hilda’s mother remembered. “Here sweet.” She handed the wand she possessed to her daughter. Hilda withdrew the wand and flicked it about the air mumbling citations and concentrating hard, making the boards shift and glow. When they formed a violet, copper-rimmed portal, Hilda said her final goodbye.
“Well, goodbye mother. I shall leave a girl, and return a woman.” And with that and without a second thought, Hilda stepped through the cool portal and just barely heard her mother’s faint response, “Don’t forget to write!”
