Advanced Summoning || Lesson One

Deep in the back of the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an abandoned room, usually locked behind twisting corridors and paths of rubble. It took a bit of skill to maneuver through downed shelves and murky hallways dripping with mysterious liquids, some magical, some certainly not. A putrid stench emanated as the students climbed, hiking their way into some sort of dark dungeon in order to reach their final destination: a scrappy, chipped-up door with a cast iron handle. Only the bravest would venture to this classroom.

On the front was scrawled nothing more than Advanced Summoning. It looked as if it had been engraved with a pencil after long years of wear and torture. At first glance, the normal student would question what would happen if the door was ever opened, and who would be their teacher. Would it be a raving, frothing madman, foam oozing from his grotesque lips as he curled his hands in strange formations? A frightening nightmarish creature who did not speak a lick of a language?

As the first student tiptoed into the room, they were pleasantly surprised to see a man in his early thirties, his tanned skin shining in the little daylight there was present in the room. He was busy scrawling a letter on a ratty desk, the only piece of furniture in the room. The rest were all cans on which to sit, and small pieces of wood on which to write. The man looked up, unshaven and with unruly dark chocolate hair, eyeing the students with almost a look of disgust. “Ah...so you made it to the most dangerous class of them all, huh? Nothing more than shocked to see your pathetic faces!” He ushered them to their seats, a mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm in his tone of voice. ”Here here, take a seat.”

Once he returned to the front of the classroom, the man swept his hair out of his equally dark eyes, clasping his hands and introducing himself. ”Apologies...for this wreck. This class is severely underfunded...apparently none of the administration seems to think my course has value.” The man, exceptionally formal with his posture, bowed at the students. ”My name is Anatole Evans, Professor of Advanced Summoning.” He took out a piece of parchment, handing it to one student to pass it around. ”Here is another list of names you may call me by.” The list was ridiculous, listing names ranging from “Annie’s Whole” to “Apple Bowl” to even “Aristotle”. “I will answer to quite frankly anything, except one name you must never use.” Anatole’s eyes narrowed, staring right through one Ravenclaw student’s soul. ”Corridor kid.”

Anatole spit on the ground, whacking the blackboard with his bare hand. ”Onto the class! Advanced Summoning.” He waved his wand, and like every teacher ever, the name of the class suddenly appeared on the board before them. ”Aka, as I like to call it, how to make people in Hogwarts appear right before your eyes. Trust me, you will discover why it is Advanced.” He drew this confusing symbol on the board...it looked like some sort of gargoyle’s head with two eyes, spinning like a washing machine in motion. ”Some people are more challenging to summon than others, let me say. In this class, you will learn the ins and outs of different people and how to bring them into your current world.”

A hand shot up, but Anatole dismissed it. ”Save them until the end! You can’t let my mind wander!” For some reason, Anatole was oddly frantic to explain this. He had always possessed a deep passion for things like this: trolling people without them acknowledging it was rude. ”This is a subject I absolutely love. Don’t let me lose it!”

Another hand shot up. “Excuse me, Anatole? Are you even employed here at---”

Anatole’s voice had become a harsh hiss. ”I said, HUSH! No one needs to know!” The man paced back towards the door, taking out another large aluminum can. It was filled with small, identical touchscreens, a shell encasing them all. ”These, well, you all must know what these are. These are cellular devices, or phones. Twenty years old, don’t complain! These are not to leave this room, nor shall you tell anyone that I granted these to you for this class specifically.” Anatole pulled out one of his own. ”First, turn on the device. It will automatically redirect you to a different page, where you will have to log in. First and Last name, please. Your password is yours to make up. Whatever you type in that box, you will have to remember, so don’t forget!”

The same hand from the first time shot up again. “Uh...Anchovy? What’s the symbol on the b--”

Apple Bowl walked over toward the board, resting his head on it in disbelief. ”Do you have no patience? You will never be able to summon if you do not have patience!” With a grievous sigh, Anatole turned back toward the class. ”Now, today we are beginning with a challenge: summoning the Transfiguration Professor, Sergei Yornikovych. His process is very specific, and like his class, if you make one wrong move, you will fail painfully.” Annie’s Whole slid a finger across his neck, hoping to strike fear into the already uncomfortable students. With yet another wave of his wand, his device’s screen projected onto the board. ”Careful use of emojis will have to do here.”

“Wait, what the heck? Emojis?” A Gryffindor complained.

”For the last time, HUSH, this is my class.” Anatole tapped the eyes emoji. ”This, the eyes emoji, has to be typed in at the right time with the right remark. Watch, and learn.”

Anatole’s nimble fingers typed in the phrase as he read it aloud. ”How is that coffee, Sergei?” He inserted the eyes emoji. ”Class, now here is the key. I launch this message onto the device, and…”

The door flung open with a pound. Sergei stood there, his eyes wider than the emoji itself. Holding a black, black coffee, he raised an eyebrow at Anatole. ”Why, it’s just fine, Anatole. I am on my third cup.” Sergei smiled at the disheveled Professor of Advanced Summoning, and with a nod, he was about to depart.

”Wait,” the young man called, smiling at Sergei. ”Since I am not rather fond of coffee, may you get me some tea?” His pupils grew wide as he imitated the emoji he had sent.

Sergei flashed one more large pair of eyes at Anatole, placed two fingers to his cheek like he was the thinking emoji, and pivoted on his heel. ”We will find out.” Instead of walking out of the room, he disappeared. Like magic.

”Now, the trick to advanced summoning is to keep the conversation intact, because if you don’t, your subject grows less interested and just...disappears, like so.” Another hand shot up from a Ravenclaw, and for the last dang time, Anatole dismissed it. ”Before you ask, yes, that was the true Sergei. Yes, he was unaware and does not have any knowledge of this class. Yes, no Professor has knowledge of this class...for reasons...not to be explained.” The Advanced Summoning teacher suspiciously scratched his temple. “This is less a practice of illusion, more a practice of pushing your conversational skills to their limits while putting into use a practice of illusion.” Anatole paced around the dingy classroom, more of the strange liquid dripping from the ceiling. He observed the students on their devices, trying to type up a witty comment. ”Try your own witty comment. However, don’t hit send unless I tell you to.” Anchovy grumbled. ”I want my tea, so make it good. Grab the man’s attention, then throw in the eyes, make him look!” He twisted his disjointed hand, symbolizing the grabbing of attention. ”Now, Mister Eager Ravenclaw! Send!”

The Ravenclaw pushed the button, and Sergei did not appear. ”Wrong moment, ha! You must give the man enough time to prepare me tea before you summon him.”

“But you said send, And A Pole!”

”Exactly! Trick statement!” Anatole pumped his fist, keeping his head up as he surveyed the dungeon. ”Another trick to summoning in general is to mimic the speech patterns of your target. Instead of saying ‘Hey Serg, how’s your coffee?’ I’d say, ‘How is that coffee, Sergei?’ Eye emoji, send.” He imitated some preppy teenager when he said the first option. ”Also, if you type exactly what I just typed before, he is sure not to return to your presence.” Anatole’s hand whacked the board again. ”Got it? Good. Now turn off your devices and place them in this basket, or else I’ll have the passageway outside my room eat you alive. I count, you know!”

The students anxiously nodded, gathering their things. Anti-Mold checked his pocketwatch, one of the few classy things hidden within this frazzled man. ”They don’t have a bell down here and it usually takes students way too long to escape my room, no idea why, but go ahead and head off. I don’t need you here anymore. Riiiiing!”

Somberly yet cautiously, the students exited, one by one trying to dodge the hazards outside the broken wooden door. With a whip of his wand, the door slammed behind the last student, Anatole kicking his feet up on the desk. He counted the devices, one by one, beatboxing to himself. ”The cycle never gets old.”

With a message from his own device (reading: “I’m expecting you to be done by now, Yornikovych… *eye emoji*”), Sergei returned, materializing from thin air with a steaming glass of chamomile in his hands. ”Yes, I am done, just like you supposed, Anthill.” Every time Sergei was summoned, he somehow came up with a new nickname for Anatole. ”Got one for myself too. Coffee grew bland.” The Transfiguration Professor raised both eyebrows simultaneously.

Anatole smiled at the older Professor, who was still coffee-addicted and never grading his students’ homework even after twenty years. Some days, Anatomy could even remember when he was a student of his in Transfiguration. ”I suppose. It always does, doesn’t it? One reason the drink never grew on me...” He took the tea, sipping it delicately, almost like a prince. ”So glad you decided to join me. I have missed you dearly.”

Sergei laughed, a small tear coming out his eye. Anatole mimicked him perfectly, doing the same.

After they had recovered from their fit, they turned back into each other’s eyes, both open, like two eye emojis staring directly back at one another.




One. Explain (1-2 lines is alright) why Sergei might have not answered to Figure 1-A’s summoning. Context may be found in the conversation itself (on Discord) or in the note at the bottom of this homework section.
Two. Why do you think this class would be called Advanced Summoning rather than just Summoning (Hint: Specifics)?
Three. Would you actually take this class? In five lines, tell me why or why not.

If you actually want to take this class seriously (for no good reason or reward, just to gain my respect and waste some time), Owl me (Anatole Evans) your answers with the title “Advanced Summoning Homework”.

Figure 1-A below:

Context for Question I. regarding Figure 1-A:
Sergei has constantly been in and out of the classroom (aka the Discord) and Anatole (the advanced summoner) has been summoning him back to back, Sergei somehow constantly answering. This message was sent in the middle of a long conversation, the conversation escalating on both sides of when this message was sent.


- If you like this quote-unquote class, please be nice and give me inspiration by the way you act on the site or the site’s Discord.
-Legitimately, you don’t have to do the homework.
-[But if you do, have five lines and more than 20 words, unless specified. Yeah, I’m every other teacher.]
-Be completely immature. I do not care.