BLOOPERS 2018 || Advanced Summoning

“We are gathered here today to remember the exquisite life of an exquisite spider. Denise Blackburn, loved by most, if not all.” The Deputy Headmaster held a somber umbrella, staring down at the ground where there laid only a single white rose. There was no corpse on which to bury, just a simple, temporary memorial for Blackburn’s beloved pet. The rose would probably be picked up by a bird, finding some material for a nest for their young, or even swooped off somewhere far away from here like Denise.

Of course, Ackerley was not aware of this agonizing fact. All his mind could conjure is how much he missed the spider, crawling on his desk, greeting him with a beady-eyed grin (that is, if spiders could grin). The spider was one of his prized possessions, the Holy Grail, the best friend, the sole ally, or even the Discord vent channel he could vent to when he was sad. The spider would understand his every emotion, since it couldn’t connect with human words. What it couldn’t do in speech it---she could do with spider-sized hugs.

Now, Ackerley was forced to stick to people-sized hugs. Those seemed bland and lacked feeling, they lacked tension, they lacked the passion that the spider gave him. Denise was like his second wife, his side girl for when Matilda wasn’t there, for when Matilda wasn’t there, Denise always was.

And another plus: Denise Blackburn rolled off the tongue better than Matilda Blackburn.

The converse was also true. When Denise wasn’t there, Matilda tried her best to be there. She stood there this afternoon, sharing the umbrella with the grieving Deputy Headmaster. This sudden...consumption certainly didn’t hit her harder than Ackerley, but she had been attempting to sympathize. She knew this strenuous grief took a toll on her now husband.

Ackerley manned up and continued his eulogy to the arachnid. “You all might not understand the impact she has had on my life, in fact, I doubt you do.” His mind scanned through all the options he could say next. “What a woman couldn’t have had, Denise had…” “She was my everything, and I don’t mean the Ariana Grande Album.” “There was a reason Denise always stayed near my bicep, and it was because she needed to reinforce me to be strong.” It all seemed too...what was the word...shady. So, he settled on what he knew was true. With an angered scowl, Ackerley called out, “Denise must have tasted sour in that fiend’s mouth. He must have had some guts to kill her….k-kill her heartlessly like that.”

The Professors exchanged glances, watching their boss cry for once. A single tear ran down his chiseled cheek, and Matilda clutched him close. It would be a tough time for their family.

Sipping some coffee from a mug, Sergei looked across the makeshift grave at the couple. “Blackburn, I hate to break it to you, but Dorian owled me and said he liked her flesh. He said it tasted like…” Sergei paused for dramatic effect. “Chicken, or barbecue on a nice, hot day.”

Ackerley, face flushed with red, looked up at Sergei and almost fainted. It couldn’t be true. His spider tasted like...chicken? Yes, the tarantula did have a bit of meat on her, but not that much to be considered chicken. “Ch...chicken?” The word stuttered out of his mouth as he fell to his knees, burying his head in the grass and continuing to sob. “N-Not chicken. It couldn’t have been! That fiend must have sent that owl out of spite! He wanted me to feel bad...a-and sadly...he got his way…” His voice was muffled by sobs and the words were choked out like his spider one by one.

Matilda fell to her knees beside him, wrapping her arm around her husband’s back and giving a deadly stare to the Bulgarian. “Sergei! Have a heart!” She inclined her head toward Ackerley’s ear, whispering small condolences. “Shh..it’s alright, he was just joking, Dorian didn’t actually send an owl to him, it’s just a joke...shhh....Denise must have tasted terrible, you’re right…” They were sweet to each other, and as of now, the only married couple both resigning and teaching at Hogwarts to this day.

“I have the letter on me.” Reaching deep into his coat pocket, Sergei pulled out a letter, opening it in the rain. The ink began to bleed a little bit, but he showed it to the circle of Professors. “Right there, his signature. ‘Signed, Dorian Gray’. Does anyone know what this ‘8D’ means? Maybe you do, Sorrel, you’re young, right?” He passed the letter to the curly-haired Herbology Professor.

Sorrel took the letter in her slim hands, moving under Matilda’s umbrella to make it out without the ink smearing. “Okay, you old coon, I’m surprised you don’t know this. Listen up for a little lesson. This ‘8D’ thing is one of the predecessors to modern emojis, called emoticons. If you turn the letter sideways it looks like a smiling face, which makes no sense on a letter meant to disturb Boss Baby here.”

Ackerley kept crying and ignored the snide comment right at him. “Sorrel! You, have a heart too. Can’t you see he’s suffering?”

“Sorry,” Sorrel called, handing the letter back to Sergei. “It was irresistible.”

“And am I wrong, or do you have plants to tend to?”

Sorrel moved out of the umbrella, her curly hair immediately falling flat. “I left the greenhouse windows open so they could get the rain. They’re okay. The ones who don’t need it are placed in the back.” She crossed her arms, shrugging. Sorrel hadn’t changed much between the day she first got hired and twenty years later. “But anyways, let him cry. He needs time.” She stood back, nodding at Maya Galim, Muggle Studies Professor. She must have given her a rundown of what emoticons were.

Lear stepped forward, taking a seat in the rain in front of the white rose. “Change the subject. We need to get back to the real reason why we are here today. Denise. Wonderful spider. I’ve even had third years complain to me that the class isn’t ‘Care of Magical Creatures’ without her. Anytime I’d touch her she’d nip me.”

Sergei sipped some more. “Really? Interesting. She used to pull the hairs off of my arm with her small little spider mouth. Adorable, really. Too bad you have no hair.” Lear shot a glance at Sergei, who just chugged the rest of his black, black coffee, tipping it towards the sky. “But that’s none of my business.”

The grounds just stayed silent for a moment. No one spoke, and Ackerley just wept. He might have even eaten some of the grass as the rain avoided the Blackburns and their umbrella. It was a grisly, grim day in Hogwarts’ history.

Matilda seemed to have had enough of the awkward silence at the funeral, and while her husband’s whine-fest was coming to a close, she stood up and said, “Thank you all for coming out in this dismal weather, but I believe it’s time we get back inside. Who knows what the school is up to when we Professors are absent.” She lowered her tone, coming closer. “I would let him down easy these next few days. The Prefects already know, and I’d suggest you do not tell common students. I will, like you, leave Ackerley be. I trust that he will come back inside once he’s done saying his...goodbyes.” She bowed her head leaving the umbrella closed beside Ackerley and departing, leading out the other Professors. Matilda looked back at her husband in the rain and felt a raging sense of some inexplicable pain. She was sorry for him.

“M-Matilda.” Ackerley’s head pricked up from the dew-drenched field and met her eyes for a fleeting moment. “Stay.”

“Ackerley...je ne peux pas...les étudiants…” Matilda kept drifting away, turning to walk backwards in order to talk to him. Quite a big deal was being made over an argument so petty just like Denise’s death. And of course, she had to break out into anything remotely passionate in French.

A head tipped around, hearing Matilda’s desperate French. The Professor watched her, noticing her terrible grief both for her husband’s spider and having to leave him out in the rain. He threw his fingers through his scarlet hair as he saw the woman, and with as little force as necessary, he pushed her back out, away from the crowd, towards her husband. “Go!”

Matilda ran towards her husband, falling down in the mud in front of him. They were adorable, just like they were when they were teenagers. The one thing that changed was their expressions. Instead of beaming with joy towards one another, all that radiated was gray sadness, whether it be over the spider or the love that may or may not have existed. “Je fais confiance aux étudiants. Ils sont des bonnes personnes. Mais Denise...Denise...”

“Tais-toi!” Matilda reached out to him, clutching his wavering torso, about to collapse once more like a defective drawbridge to a castle. “Elle fait tu triste. Je sais. La tarantule est morte.” She watched him shake and cling to the mud beneath him, desperate for any memory of his real wife, Denise. Like the caring woman she was, Matilda placed her hand on his shoulder, repeating the fact. “La tarantule est morte. The spider is dead.”

“Don’t remind me...let this all be an oddly vivid dream, let the hawk never have swooped down and swallowed her up, let her have never tasted like chicken…” Ackerley’s orbs grew glassy and glazed over and his tears had a mind of their own. “Let me wake up, Matilda. Pinch me.”

Matilda handed him a concerned look and then did what he said. “Not that hard!” Ackerley’s tears were no longer of grief, but of pain. Her fingernails were sharper than he had remembered. The two of them laughed along, and for a moment, the downpour of rain sputtered to a halt. The sky, once grayscale, seemed to blossom and open up. And like that, the situation got lighter as well when the sun came out. They sat there together, the single white rose of memory laid between them.

Speaking of that white rose, a shadow of a hawk cast down on the couple from above. It was making its daily rounds, curving with the sprightly sun. He turned at a forty-five degree angle, plummeting towards the center of the couple, snatching up the only memory of Denise with his beak.

The Blackburns both jumped back at once, Ackerley screaming childishly and Matilda scooting back about two feet. “That hawk! It was Dorian!”

“Dorian’s the hawk?”

“Didn’t you know? He studied closely with Sergei and is now a hawk animagus; the same hawk who ate my beloved--”

Matilda shot forward, pressing a finger across the Deputy Headmaster’s lips before he could finish what he was about to say. “Your beloved pet. We get it, dear. She’s dead. Don’t bring it up again.”

She tilted her head until it reached his shoulder, and suddenly, Ackerley shoved her head off as he stood up, screaming at the silhouette. “Matilda, get out your wand! Help me get him down from the skies!”

“Wh...why?”

“Don’t question me! You’ll see in a moment.” Ackerley whipped out his wand, pointing it at the bird and firing all sort of charms at the helpless and usually harmless bird. Matilda just watched in a mixed state of flabbergasted awe and utter shock and disbelief.

Narrowly, the hawk disappeared around the end of the West Tower, hidden from the view of the now muddy Deputy Headmaster. Ackerley was growing tired of running around after Dorian and Max since their last encounter, but those two troublemakers still hadn’t given up. “Ackerley! Relax. Please, come inside with me and we can sip some wonderfully warm tea, just like we used to.” Professor Barrows’ story was one of beautiful coming-of-age, how even beneath her wrinkles she looked stunning like she had twenty years ago (and even at Beauxbatons and before). She, like many, longed for the sweet moments of the past. Her hand locked into his like a key into a binding, and she refused to let go. “Ackerley, please? For old time’s sake…”

“Alright,” he remarked back, beaming beneath his graying hair, “I will come...in an instant. Just let me solve this, and I will be up to your room when the tea is ready.”

“Oh, I suppose. Take as much time as you need.” She hid her internal feeling of defeat well. Keeping her rather firm head high, she strolled off through the murky field, hurrying back to the castle and to the seventh floor.

Meanwhile, Ackerley kept his eyes toward the skies, waiting for the hawk to roundabout again.

And much to his liking, the animagus turned the corner, this time with a scroll in his meaty talons. The Charms Professor fired one more charm at the bird before it released its cargo, the letter falling into the man’s hands. “Dorian! Get down here!” The man rubbed his temples, his voice growing sore and hoarse from screaming at the bird who might have not been listening. Rolling his eyes, he picked at the seal until the folded paper opened.

“Dear Mr. Blackburn,

It’s challenging to say you’re sorry for eating someone’s beloved spider---and that’s partially why I will not concede to your demands. I’m not sorry for eating her, because honestly, if I didn’t, the situation might have gotten a whole lot worse.

But about Advanced Summoning, I know you still won’t listen to me on that, but Max and I were on your side about getting rid of the program. It was just too dangerous for everyone, even though it did seem really, really cool. But the bad kind of cool. Yeah. Do you have any idea how Anatole transformed into something like this? Because BTW, I’ve got no idea. *grimacing emoji*. It’s probably another long story I got left out of anyways. Twenty years does a lot.

Anyways, sorry about the spider thing. No hurt feelings, but I hope your feelings are hurt. >:)

And yes, she did taste like chicken.



Reading over these words with teary eyes, Ackerley ripped the parchment flatly in half.

“Dungeons.”

French Translations:
"Ackerley...I can't...the students..."
"I trust the students. They are good people. But Denise...Denise..."
"Shut up! She makes you sad. I know. The tarantula is dead." "The tarantula is dead."

[Setting: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 years in the future. Set after the events of “Advanced Summoning Lesson Five: Stranger.”]


Dear Anatole, (again, for the…. Tenth time.)

My patience is basically non-existent at this point, man. This is nuts.. Sure! It’s been a while since you’ve been around, a long while, actually, but you do know you didn’t just… Leave. No, leaving implies you said something before you did. You disappeared, vanished. My letters before this have been soft, and sad, you know, as you’d suspect from someone like me, but not this time. Benny’s been hearing whispers, about you. You can’t be surprised that I’ve heard about you. This professor trash, Anatole? Really?

I just… I miss you. Words can’t describe how much I do. You weren’t just some guy to me, you know that. You were my best friend, someone I fell in love with. And then you just.. Disappear? I don’t find that fair. Not to me. You aren’t someone I just forget. My first heartbreak.

And of course, the pile of letters on my desk has been piling up. Every single one has been returned, Anatole.. All of them. Why are you insistent on your distance? It’s like you’re avoiding me like I’m some sort of bloody disease. What the heck happened? Maybe you’ll actually answer me this time. It’s not like I’m surprised, you know. Avoiding me is one of your best talents, isn’t it?

Anyway, again, I miss you. Write back one of these days, yeah? I’m starting to feel like an idiot. Well, maybe I am. I know I’m over you, but I feel like I’d still let you dance with me around the ballroom. I felt safest when I was with you.

Sincerely, your dearest,
Rosie Parker


“Rosie! Rosie!” The boy’s voice rang through the Hospital Wing as he ran towards his sister. He was twenty-one now, old enough to do actual work.

And work the boy did. Benjamin “Benny” Parker had followed in his sister’s footsteps, attending Hogwarts (of course being sorted into Hufflepuff) and graduating many years after his sister had left a smidgen of a legacy on the school. He wasn’t as memorable as Rosie, in fact, a couple of the teachers forgot him after he graduated. But since his sister took up nursing and healing in the Hogwarts’ wing, Benny felt obliged to take a job from one of the teachers who refused to forget him or his sister: Fainauriel Valtome. Since graduation, Benjamin sorted potions and stayed behind in the Storeroom with glinting bottles and a need to escape the dungeons every now and then. Knowing Valtome, Benny probably did practically nothing. Hence today, when he decided to pay a much-needed visit up to the third floor.

“Benny! Aren’t you supposed to be working? I’m busy!” Rosie snatched the handwritten letter from behind her, turning towards her brother as she crumpled up the draft in her fist. It was a rather clandestine secret to the nurse’s inner circle, and yes, Benny knew, but Rosie had refused to reveal her passion and these letters to any of her colleagues. “Y-Yeah, that’s right, I’m busy.” She clenched her teeth, noticing that all the other nurses were out for dinner.

His hair was curly, just like her sister’s had been when she was young. They also shared the gene of vibrant emerald eyes, which seemed to be brighter as he ran up behind his sister. “Dude, you gotta check this out.” He waved an article of the Slytherin newspaper in Rosie’s face. “You will NOT believe what this says!”

”Jesus.” Rosie snatched the paper and scanned her eyes down to where Benny was pointing. “I don’t need another episode of some house’s newspaper. There’s no real gossip that pertains to me or anything I haven’t heard from the other nurses. It’s not like it used to be.”

Benny grumbled and gripped his sister’s shoulders. ”No! That’s not the main thing! Stop being such a downer. Things are great!...aren’t they?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. Things weren’t bad per say but… Rosie had definitely been happier in some points of her life. Rosie pursed her lips and looked back down at the paper. “I don’t see what you’re freaking out ab-” She froze on a name.

The torn-out gossip column was headed with the title: ‘No More Advanced Summoning?’ It was a rather fascinating article, finally exposing much of the forbidden curriculum and its supposed banishment. However, the depth of the article was little, considering it was written by a bunch of puny third years. But the one name in the sea of words stood out. Anatole Evans.

Well, it was written as Anatubby Evans, but Rosie got the jist.

The nurse heard the paper crumble a bit under her tight grip. Seriously? After years of silence, this is the confirmation she gets that his bloody stupid man is alive? Benny’s face paled a bit as he watched his sister grow a little more angry, and his eyes shut when Rosie tossed down the newspaper onto the table. “C-C’mon, sis. Let’s take a b-”


”I will absolutely NOT take a breath, Benny! This is the first time I’ve heard actual confirmation of this guy being alive in twenty god damn years!” Rosie threw her hands in the air in frustration, starting to pace around the room.“I’ve written letter, after letter, and no response! This is absolutely unbelievable! Well, maybe it is. Considering it’s freakin--” She stopped herself and took a slow breath, closing her eyes. “I’ve…” She muttered, it was barely above a whisper. “I’ve written so many, Benny. Dear Anatole this, dear Anatole that, I’m tired of writing his stupid name on ten different papers! Stupid, stupid, Anatole!” She snapped, stomping her foot. “Anatole, Anatole, Anatole, Anatole…” Rosie tossed her drafts off the table one by one. “Anatole, Anatole, Anato--”

”WHAT?” A voice boomed through the empty wing: so loud it made the tiled floor vibrate.

Rosie slowly turned, still seething. And it seemed like the glare hardened at the sight. But, in truth, Rosie had seemingly panicked from a random person appearing in her room, and she had grabbed a health manual and spun around, whacking the ‘stranger’ in the face with it. “WHO IN THE BLOOD-” She froze. “.... Anatole?”

The bedraggled man gripped his cheek where she whacked it, grunting in pain. ”God! What the---Rosie? Why in Merlin’s name did you summon me?”

“Summon you? You think I wanted to bloody summon you?” Rosie tossed the manual back onto the table. “What does that even mean?” She gestured her hands desperately as she spoke.

“Ooh! Ooh! I know this one!” Benny jumped up and down, ecstatic to answer the question. “Summoning is when you accidentally bring a Professor to them by picking up on their quirks and coaxing them to suddenly appear!”

“Benny, shut up for a second.” Rosie stretched her hand out behind her, her angry gaze still on Anatole. But even he could tell a little bit of it was forced, after all they were best friends, they were almost…

“But Fainauriel talked all about it! He told me all about Anatole!” He sounded just like he did when he was little, still. Blabbermouth. Once he started talking, sometimes he couldn’t stop. “He called him an abomination!”

Anatole hurled toward the boy. ”Abomination? Oh, Valtome…” He shook his head, taking a seat and hanging his head in his hands. “He must’ve poisoned your mind. Don’t you dare listen to him.”

“What? I’m sorry, but I’m really confused. Anatole, please explain yourself.” Rosie sat down beside Anatole, sighing to herself. “The article told me nothing.”

Anteater took a deep breath. ”Okay, here’s the deal. For the past however long or so, I’ve been teaching a Dark Art in the dungeons without anyone knowing. Very, very long story short, I’ve been found out and am basically banished from Hogwarts. By you repeating my name over and over, I was summoned to your side and basically can’t teleport back to where I came from.” He rose to his feet. Anatomy’s piercing stare focused on Benny for a moment. ”You tell a soul about Advanced Summoning, I will be after you in an instant.”The ex-Professor’s finger traced his neck, symbolizing an awfully brutal decapitation.

Suddenly, another girl burst through the door. She looked to be approximately in her third year. “Ms. Parker! Ms. Parker! A big di--” Her call was interrupted when Rosie flung the newspaper at her face, and she let out a loud gasp, clutching her wound just like Anatole had. Rosie herself was still on edge and a bit freaked out by the sudden intruder into her hospital wing.

“Oh my go-” Rosie scurried over and knelt down. “I am so so sorry, oh my god.” She looked over to Benny. “Ben! C’mere!” The nurse waved him over, frowning.

Benny reluctantly walked over to his sister and the younger girl, disappointed he couldn’t ask more questions. “I’m not the nurse here, Ro-”

“That’s wonderful Benny I’m sure you can talk about it with the younger girl while you two go find somewhere to hang for a bit, yeah? Bye!” Rosie pushed them both out of the room and shut the door, turning back around to Anatole. “You.” She pointed, looking like she was about to explode.

”Yeah...what?” Anatole kept his eyes focused on the woman, leaning over and placing his elbows on his knees as he sat.

Rosie and Anatole had since been...distant, one could say. All that Rosie knew was that they graduated, spent one or two years afterwards together exchanging houses and having fun as really good friends, and then suddenly, as Rosie explained it, Anatole ‘dropped off the face of the Earth’. She spent a few years alone and then picked up a job, got some new friends and colleagues, and forgot about him. Once Benny graduated and picked up all these habits and rumours from his “boss”, her feelings returned. And it hurt like an Incendio cast to the face.

“You act like you didn’t disappear from my life without a trace. Like it means nothing to you.” Hurt and bitterness laced Rosie’s tone, her eyes narrowed. Her heart was still repairing from the massive drop that had landed on her. Did he really not care? At all? The thought only made her angrier.

Anatole was a little tired of this. He had hoped that she had changed in some sort over a rough seventeen years or so, maybe become a little less easily angered, but she hadn’t. She was like Dorian and Max had been with what little he had noticed from them. They hadn’t changed.

“Don’t you dare give me that look.” Rosie sneered. She knew that look. The look of Anatole wanting to get out of an argument as soon as possible because he knew he’d lose, and he was the one at fault. “You better have a good explanation on why I had to forget you and how you ignored my letters that were basically begging you to come back.” Rosie always talked the most when they had their disagreements. Anatole would just sit, and listen, and comment. And it made Rosie mad.

The former Gryffindor rose to his feet and glanced around the room. ”Is this really the best time? Rosie, the longer I stay here without some cover, the more chance I have of getting hunted down and kicked out again.” Anatole dashed over to the window. ”Knowing them, they have something to track me. Please, I don’t have time for your twenty-year sadness.” He was glad to see that there was no one outside. Antelope wiped a few beads of sweat off his face.

“Anatole, seriously. You have to hear of my struggle!” Rosie grumbled, unable to take the fact that Anatole wasn’t cooperating. “Didn’t you miss me? At all?” She picked up her manual, whacking him a few times in the arm with it. It stung like the venom of a snake bite, or being eaten by a bunch of miniscule flesh-eating house elves. Too bad the latter doesn't exist. “Gonna’ answer?”

”No, there's things I have to do, Rosie. Since you brought me here,” Anatole stopped, cut off by another voice from outside the door.

Benny’s voice screamed “SUMMONED! NOT BROUGHT!”

Rosie sighed, turning her head and shouting back at the door, “I don't care!” Her voice narrowly cracked and she raced for a glass of water. She knew that it was time for another sappy monologue since that fool wouldn't listen. Here, the women had to do the work. Who needs Anatole? Maybe Valtome was right to call him an abomination. “Now, Anatole, please, listen. I've missed you so much I-- where'd you even get that?”

Anatubby held a book in his hands now, shrugging and standing up.“That doesn't matter. What does matter is--”

“ADVAAAAANCED SUMMONING!”

“I swear to GOD, BENNY, IF YOU DO NOT SHUT UP.” Rosie rose her fist threateningly at the door, and Anatole looked at her with a very peculiar sort of confusion. He wasn’t sure whether to be scared or laughing. “What does matter is my feel--”
And A Pole placed a finger over her lips, granting her the same death stare he had given students back in his class. However, unlike the children who went silent, Rosie just got angrier. “You-You think you can just-”

Instead of just a finger, Anatole then placed his whole hand over her mouth. ”Two things, Miss Parker, or whatever they call you here. One, what matters here is my safety. For the last time, if I am found here, I could as well be dead. You know how Ackerley is. Two, if you open your mouth and lick my hand, I'll...I'll…”

Suddenly, a strange wet thing graced Anatole's dirty hand. Rosie had licked it with a devious smirk. The Ex-Professor wanted to be shocked, but honestly, he was not. In the slightest. ”Okay, but seriously. Enough procrastinating. Get Benny in here, I need a plan. For all I know, he could be blabbering to some Professor out there right now.” Wiping his hand on his pants, Anatole opened the door and let Benny in. ”Listen up, kid, I need a plan. I need to stay in the school, but need to make sure no one notices who I am. Advanced Summoning needs to come back to Hogwarts. Without it, the school is good as dull.”

“Y-You’re letting me help?” Benny grinned, hopping from foot to foot. “I can’t believe this, this is gonna be so co-”

“Hold up, stop the presses.” Rosie raised her finger. ”You are not bringing my little brother into this.”

”Yes, I am. I trust him enough.” Assuming that this lowly hospital wing was another dingy dungeon of his, Anatole began to pace. ”Here is the one idea I have.” He took a breath, raising his eyebrow with a smirk. It was something easily taken from seven years’ worth of classes with Sebastián.“A disguise.”

Rosie sat back in her seat, her eyebrows still furrowed and her hand tapping a pen against her desk.“A disguise to look like a complete idiot so everyone avoids you? You’ve already got that down, love.”

Anatole pointed a sharp finger at her.“First rule about being my accomplices, however. Don't tell a soul. Second rule, don't summon a soul, including me.” He stared down Benny when he said that. ”Alright, now onto the disguise. It has to be pretty drastic.”He dashed around the Wing.

Benny gasped, and that earned a roll of the eyes from Rosie. He put his hands on his waist and smiled. “What if we get you a fake mustache? Nobody will recognize Anatole with facial hair.”

“Considering he’s never grown a hair of it in his life.” Rosie snickered.

”Will you stop?” Antelope groaned, running a hand through his sweaty locks. ”Do you want me to be banished again, Rosie? ‘Cause that’s what it seems like.”

“Nah man, I’m angry at you. But you get all weird when I release any sort of feelings so I might as well make fun of you as you conjure a plan with my little brother that potentially also get him banished.”

”That’s enough,” Anatole tried his hardest to be stern, ”Here, do me a favor. You do it, and I'll be in debt forever. The two of you find me a great disguise, and when you have, summon me. I can't stay on campus for much longer without it, and I really should be going.”

Rosie and Benny exchanged a glance and they both nodded. The nurse stood and walked over to Anatole, and despite her being furious, she planted a sweet kiss on his beat-up cheek. “It’s good to see you again, Gryffindork. I'll summon you later.”

As Anatole slowly scaled down the window with a flat mouth, Benny snickered. “Stupid lovebirds.”

Sorry this one is a little long!
Special to Rosie Parker for assisting me in writing this blooper as well as letting me throw in her characters, Benny and Rosie Parker!

”Wait! Wait! I swear, I’ll do anything! Just please, don’t do it! Don’t do it!” The helpless screech of Dorian Gray rang through the dungeons in the afternoon, almost enough to make the whole floor pause whatever they were doing to listen to a grown 31-year-old scream about whatever misery he was going through. ”MY PHONE! No! Don’t take my phooooone!” The man whined, shirtless on the cold stone as his phone was wrestled from his sweaty grasp. Now, a new pair of meaty hands held Dorian’s precious smartphone and ushered Dorian to get up. He had to get to his feet, or something worse would come swifter than he could imagine.

Quickly forcing himself to his feet, Dorian clenched his eyes shut as the man behind him shoved him along. His forearm was oddly hairy...and gross...and warm. This warden...whatever it was, would show up in Dorian’s nightmares, considering he had never dared to turn around and see this thing’s face. They, whoever they were, had confiscated almost everything from him (including his shirt), and if the bird animagus didn’t get moving soon, they’d take what little they had forgot: his wand.

But seriously...all this was over a phone…? Really? Was that phone such a big deal? Sure, it was his only known way to try to summon anyone, but he could go for a little while in the Hogwarts dungeons without it, right? It wasn’t that bad. It couldn’t be.

Finally, Dorian and the...whatever...had come to the spot. A lovely little spot where he would easily be monitored and supposedly kept away from anyone else. It was only the best that they kept their highest security “prisoners” separate. Who knew what could happen?

Like the animagus’s cries, the heavy footsteps began to fade. The shirtless Gray lied against the cold, stone wall, hearing nothing but the scamper of rats and the ominous dripping of water coming from who knows where. It was lonely and humid down here, and honestly, there was nothing to do except scream for help. ”H...Help? A-Anyone?”

”I’m right here, idiot.”

Dorian’s expression read nothing but confusion. He muttered something to himself as his eyes grew wide. There was someone...near? ”I-Is this what happens when you’re about to die? You start hearing voices? Is this my last d-day?”

A deep sigh erupted from behind another stone wall, only accessible by a single brick-sized hole in the stone. ”Sure it is,” the voice replied with loads of sarcasm. ”It’s not Max, and I’m not behind this stupid wall.”

The shirtless one let out a high screech of relief, jumping to his feet and eyeing through the hole. ”Max! They got you? They really got you?” Shoving his face into the crevice, Dorian couldn’t see any figure in the adjacent stone room. ”I can’t see you...where are you?”

Silently, the thirty-one year old trenchcoated man slid up from having his back against the wall. The piercing blue eyes of Max Avery stared directly at Dorian through the hole. ”Right here. And of course I was captured!” He cleared his throat. ”So after you...puked out Denise...yeah...well, you flew away and whatever. Of course, you were a smaller target to hit, so you were good as gone by the time Ackerley and his Prefect minions or whatever came and saw me dash away. With a little bit of magic, they caught me quickly and I’ve been here since. You better not act like this dungeon’s all terrible or anything, because I’ve got ‘bout a week on you in jail time. No complaining, punk.”

”You seen Anatole?”

”’Course you’re the guy who’s asking about him. As for my answer, it’s a big fat nope. He ran away again. I haven’t heard anything else about him. Guess he’s gone. For good or not, who knows. I can conduct my investigation with or without him anyways.” Max was wonderfully straightforward about it all. There was close to no emotion in his voice when he talked about Anatole, really. He was just that missing stone in the wall, not affecting the way the wall stood. There was no use for him to be brought back. “No more Advanced Summoning, for sure. Ackerley won’t have it.” Max shrugged, turning back and eyeing Dorian again. ”You look...uh, what’s the word…”

It was Max’s nature to ramble and stuff himself with extensive monologues. Of course, sometimes these annoyed Dorian and in those circumstances, he just turned away from the break in the stone and thought about something else. ”I...look...uh...terrible? Stressed? Destructively idle?”

The trenchcoated investigator sneered. ”There you go with the self-deprecation and too-long explanations, Dori. Never changed, have you?” Stepping back from the hole, Max tossed his hair, smirked, and called out to Dorian with one more request. It was fun to play around with him. ”Speaking of that, there any way in the whole wide Wizarding World they didn’t snag your wand? Let’s see if you’ve got the guts to become that hawk and shimmy through this hole...let’s just hope you didn’t puke out those guts, though.”

”Hey! Cut me some slack, we’ve confirmed that my gag reflex sucks!” Rolling his eyes, the animagus slipped his wand out of his pant leg, grasping it as it spiraled onto the floor. ”But you’re right, I haven’t changed. I’m still going to take on your stupid challenges, idiot. Pssh, I’ve got this.” Like that, Dorian was a hawk again. A terribly strange hawk, but a hawk at that. Flapping his little bird wings, he flew to the little hole and tried to push himself through...but only made it halfway through before noticing he was stuck.

Max sighed. He’d have to hold Dorian’s hair back again? Well, of course not actually, but he’d have to help him through something again. ”Come on.” Grasping the crazy avian, Max pulled the squawking, screeching bird through the hole by his wings. ”Dang it! You bit me!” Max shook out the arm that the hawk nipped, narrowly ducking as the loud bird shot through the dungeon like a cannonball and bounded up toward the ceiling before crashlanding into the floor and scraping its little bird head on the hard stone. Ouch. ”Karma. I’d suggest...never flying again?”

Slowly shifting forms back to a dingy thirty-ish man, Dorian lied down on the cold ground. ”Yeah, sure.” He coughed, grasping his throat and inhaling quickly. ”I’m definitely not flying again.”

”There goes your trash gag reflex again. Don’t die on me, mate. I’ve got stuff to get done while you’re around.” He snickered. ”Also, why didn’t you just leave while you could? I bet you could’ve fit through the window and just left.”

The writhing, wet young man sat up. ”Let’s be serious, Max.” Dorian couldn’t help but smile. ”I’d never leave you or my phone, but mostly you behind.”

”You little jerk. Trying to make my emotions show,” Max laughed. ”Only people like Aubren used to do that. Wasn’t that her name?” Dorian nodded in response and it made Max smile. Next, Max sat down adjacent to Dorian, placing his elbows on his knees, cracking his knuckles, and giving him the classic Max stare™. Now, they could finally see each other face-to-face for the first time in a while. ”Good. Since all that’s over with, I’ve got a few things I need to talk to you about.” When Max looked back over at his friend, he found him in a different position. This time, he was lying on his side and propping his hand up with his head. It was a terrible idea on the school’s end to catch this guy and jail him shirtless. ”They’re pretty serious, which means I expect you to have some grain of maturity and listen when I talk, alright? Either listen or keep watch, alright?”

”Alright, I’ll keep watch!” Rising to his feet, Dorian strutted toward the end of the enclosure, keeping his back to it to make sure it stayed shut.

”You have your back turned. How is that keeping watch?”

”I can hear footsteps when they come and doors when they open! Now go ahead, get talking!”

Max tossed his hair and looked at Dorian. ”Hey, hey, if you insist. Now listen up.” He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace. ”So, even though I am jailed, my investigation isn’t over. It’s going on without me and I am now an insider. I’m in the perfect situation right now, little do you know.”

Out of nowhere, a frantic buzz came from Max’s back pocket. Dorian’s ears perked up like a dog to a whistle and he scampered toward Max with an eager cry. The former bully whipped out his phone from his back pocket and was about to pick up the call when Dorian leapt up and swiped it from him, answering the call himself. ”Hello?”

”Ah, alright, I’ll let you play death by answering that call. Knock yourself out, kid.” Even though Max was only out-aging Dorian by a mere ten months, Dorian hadn’t lost much of his childlike nature.

”Yeah, he’s here...why?” Max rolled his eyes, hearing the faint voice on the other end. It was familiar yet menacing to the investigator, but there was nothing a set of two former Gryffindors couldn’t handle. ”Oh. THAT’S why!” Covering the phone’s microphone, Dorian stared up at Max in shock. ”Oh. Em. Gee...seriously? H….How?”

”I already know, it’s no big deal.”

Max’s face grew serious for a few moments as he looked down at Dorian, who was modeling even on this phone call. ”I’m...Rhododendron Gray, a...an acquaintance of Max.” There he went again, being extra with even a fake name. ”Oh...wow….dang. That’s surely something of you to say, but…” Max kicked in with The Stare™ again, signaling Dorian to go ahead and end the call. ”Uh...I’ve gotta go, really, bye!” Hanging up on the other end, Dorian puppy eyed Max. ”Let me keep your phone a little longer? Pleeeeeeease? Those jerks took mine!”

It was clear that Max didn’t trust him with any sort of technology, but he let his friend mess with it anyways.

Only moments passed before Dorian was at it again, taking supposedly flattering shirtless selfies on Max’s phone and going wild with poses once more. Rubbing his temples, Max grabbed his outstretched selfie-taking arm. ”If you’re going to use my work phone, please use it for something important, Dorian.”

”Okay! Okay! I know what I’m doing, watch.” Accessing the phone app in a jiffy, Dorian typed in a number like an expert hacker. ”Come on...pick up….pick up…”

”Dorian, who in the name of Merlin are you calling on my phone? Please tell me you’re being smart for once.” If Max was an emoji right now, he would be that blob sweat emoji with the rag frantically wiping his forehead. Too bad there was no rag to ease the stress of whoever was calling.

The animagus bit his lip, sliding down onto the floor and crossing his fingers in hopes of an answer. ”I told you, I’ve got this!”

Max’s tone was frantic as he suddenly questioned why he gave his beloved phone to such a troublemaker. ”Do you, do you really?” With a slam, the door to the dungeons flew open and a light set of feet raced down the stairs. ”Dammit, Dorian! Look what you did! You DON’T have this!” Turning his back toward the door to his cell, Max heaved a sigh and his face began to cool. It would be alright, he believed.

The cell door slammed open as a familiar red-headed figure entered and thrusted another buzzing object in his right hand toward the sky. Dorian gasped, dropping it and recognizing it as his phone.Max turned, breathless and stunned. This was the absolute worst thing that could happen. ”My phoooooone! He’s got it!”

”Hm. I knew it.” The Professor of Astronomy blew his hair aside and pocketed Dorian’s phone, crossing his arms and looking at the two young men. ”You two are magnets for trouble,” he muttered with a smirk. ”It’s a conundrum. Terrible that I have to come and see the two of you together again.”

Max was still registering what had occurred as he slid over to Dorian and whispered, ”Stay back. This is my business.” Straightening his posture, he approached Professor Barclay, who now had slight gray roots beneath his ever-bright ginger. After all, those twenty years had flew by. ”Hey, Mr. Barclay!” Max had clearly decided to play casual with him, carefully hiding any vein of uncertainty. ”If you don’t mind, may I take just a little bit of your time to chat with you about two things?”

”State your case, Mr. Avery.” Thurston continued to block the sole exit, monitoring both boys seamlessly, silently, and simultaneously.

”Well,” Max began, expecting another one of his long monologues, ”first of all, I want you to know that I am all for your case against Advanced Summoning. Whatever you say, I am for. This school is great and will continue to be great under your guidance, trust me.”

”Hm. Continue.” In the back, Dorian was still shifting through different poses while cheering on Max.

”With all that in mind, I’d like to ask if you would be so kind as to let us out of this dungeon. Sure, you can keep us to make sure we don’t cause any trouble, yes, and we would do anything you say, but would you please let us out? This week’s taken a toll on my back.” The investigator rubbed his back, trying to state as best a case as he could. Maybe, just maybe, it would work.

”Yeah! I’ve been dying and it’s only been a couple of hours!”

Thurston’s focus shifted to Dorian in the background. ”I’m not blind, Mr. Gray,” he joked. Smirking just enough to show a single shining canine, the Professor/Makeshift Warden answered Max’s plea. ”I might just let you out. I just might, Mr. Avery. All I ask is that you grant me a bit more along with keeping your affirmation and inquiring about something else.”

Max nodded, understanding what he said. ”Yes! If you let us out now, I will be your...uh...assistant up in the tower. I’m sure Dorian can do more for the school as well. You can always throw us back down here if needed, can you not?”

Like Thurston was a living, breathing, ferocious wolf, Max approached him carefully, placing his hand on the narrow doorframe behind Thurston. Max lowered his voice until Dorian could no longer hear and threw on a deadly serious expression, prepared for the sensitive topic he was about to address. ”And Mr. Barclay.” Pricking up one inquisitive eyebrow, Max slid his face close to the Professor’s to add the perfect amount of pressure. ”I know you know of an event that occurred about thirteen years ago that severely changed this school as we know it.”

”Hm? Mr. Avery, I can’t comprehend what ‘event’ you might be alluding to.”

”Don’t play with me, Thurston. I just want the facts. Tell me what you know.” The younger brown-haired man tilted his head ever so slightly, attempting to coax something out of this intriguing Professor.

Thurston raised an eyebrow. ”Max, let me be frank with you.” He cleared his throat and leaned closer, bringing his deep voice to a light whisper. ”I know nothing about what occurred those few weeks. I heard nothing but whispers and was not bothered to be included. Take my word for it, Investigator.” Stepping back and clearing his voice, Thurston addressed Dorian this time as well. ”However, I will let you go on those conditions and those conditions only. Please, follow me. We will promptly discuss your release with the Headmaster.”

Dorian bounded into the air with a wild squeal. ”YES! Thank you so much, Mr. Barclay!”

He raced up toward the two, about to pull them into a group hug. ”I don’t do hugs,” Thurston remarked, kindly declining. ”Boys, it’s time we get a move on. You know where the office is.” The Professor sighed, running his hands through his hair and moving up the stairs. ”I have a class I need to teach. A pair of Prefects will escort you to the Headmaster’s office, if you don’t mind.” He moved to the side, allowing Dorian to dash up the stairs first while he said a few more words to Max. ”Best of luck on your investigation, Sir. It is exactly what we’ve needed.”

”Thank you, Mr. Barclay. It is understood that you do not share any of this information amongst any higher member of Hogwarts, and I expect you to uphold that. Glad to have you as an ally.” He winked at the Professor, beginning to stroll up the stairs. ”But besides that, I hope you are still well. It has truly been a while.” At that, Max picked up the pace, his trenchcoat flying back behind him as he raced out of sight.

Thurston attempted to keep up, sprinting up the stairs as fast as he could. ”Wait! Max!” He only got about halfway before slowing to a walk, noticing the younger man probably had outpaced the 44-year-old professor. They were long gone. All grown up.

At least Thurston still had Dorian’s phone.



The hike to Ackerley’s office seemed much longer and more exhausting than it used to be. With Prefects leading the way, Max and Dorian dragged their feet behind. Through the dungeons and inside secret passageways to hide the prisoners from normal students, the two former Gryffindors got bored very easily. Especially Dorian, who was forced to hide Max’s phone even as they wove through the halls. He groaned, standing still as the three continued on. Max did not notice and continued following the Prefects.

But as they kept going, the troublemaker found yet another way to escape. Changing back into a hawk, Dorian took flight and slid out the window of the school, soaring through the grounds like he used to.

And at the last moment, Max looked back and snickered, watching the faint figure of the hawk float away into the distance and silently hoping he would return.

He couldn’t conduct this investigation on his own.

Congratulations! You have just survived a 3K word blooper! My apologies about it being so long...there's just something about these guys that makes me write a lot more than I'm used to.

Anyways, Advanced Summoning has just made a comeback...expect the lessons to kick up come Mid-September! I have one more blooper I've been DYING to release and it is heavily in progress as I type!

As usual, please read all the lessons before the next one comes! It makes practically no sense if you come in here and there. Once again, special thanks to Max and Dorian for letting me use their characters and sharing their ideas!

Happy Summoning!