The Letters of Summer
Meet the Tutor
By kokopelli
Chapter 8 — Meet the Tutor
Tonks was nervous. She was pacing in the garden behind Arabella Figg’s house. In the past ten minutes her hair colour had gone from red to blond to black to green, back to red, finally settling on flamingo pink. Her nails were the next morphing target, changing shape from close trimmed nails to three inch stiletto points; changing colour from pearl gray, to gold, to red, to black, and finally settling on an assortment of colours that reminded Harry of a box of crayons, each nail a different colour. Harry finally snapped with all the fidgeting.
"Tonks, give it a rest! He’ll be here when he gets here," Harry said testily.
"I’m worried, Harry," she said, but Harry never found out what she was worried about; a somewhat familiar cracking sound followed an odd, low plunk that sounded like the snap of a large, long rope. Without warning, Tonks smacked into Harry, knocking him to the ground and kneeling over his prone body, wand drawn in one hand, mobile phone in the other.
Standing in front of Tonks was a thin, elderly, bearded man dressed in Muggle clothing. He had apparently just Apparated into the garden. The visitor had no wand and was carrying a four-footed cane similar to that favored by many of the rehabilitation patients at St. Mungo’s.
"Please put that wand away, young lady, you won’t be needing it just now," the old man said. He sank to the garden bench behind him with a weary sigh. Tonks said nothing, keeping her eyes on the man, wand still pointed at his chest. Although she was panting lightly, her wand hand was steady. The man sighed again. Pursing his lips to whistle, he blew two short sharp chirps. Tonk’s phone and wand went flying into the air where they were caught effortlessly by the visitor.
"Madame Auror, would you please be so kind as to get up off of my student. I would like to introduce myself. I assure you that had I meant any harm to either one of you, you would be dead already."
Tonks stood up, pulling Harry up as she did so.
"Don’t try to take the boy’s wand, Miss," the man said. "I wasn’t born yesterday."
Harry spat, getting the dirt and grass out of his mouth. Straightening his glasses, Harry stepped forward, extending his hand. "Dumbledore says that I can trust the tutor as much as I trust him. I hope he’s right," thought Harry.
"Harry Potter, sir. And you would be?"
The man looked up at Harry, ignoring his outstretched hand. "Abelard," the man said, staring at Harry’s face.
Harry withdrew his hand, sticking it into his pocket. "This is one odd character that Dumbledore sent," Harry thought to himself.
"You are Lily’s boy," Abelard stated. It wasn't a question.
"Yes, sir."
"I only met your father once, but I knew your mother well. I was quite fond of her. That was before your time, of course. Madame Auror, if you promise to behave yourself, I will return these items." With that, Abelard stood, handing Tonks the phone and wand in turn.
"Thanks. I’m Tonks," she said, not proffering her hand. "Moody says ‘hello.’"
A smile flickered across Abelard’s face at the mention of Moody’s name. "Still alive, is he? Nice to know some of the dinosaurs remain on this earth."
"I was at Moody’s house last night. He still has your decorations, sitting on his fireplace mantle," Tonks volunteered.
The old man snorted. "That’s not where I told Moody to put them."
Now it was Tonk’s turn to snort. "Moody still has to work with the Ministry, you know. It would be a bit strained if he shoved those medals up the Minister’s arse as you requested." She had a cross-eyed smile on her face as she apparently contemplated Moody bending Fudge over to make a suppository delivery.
"Let them stay on the mantle then," Abelard sighed.
Tonks’ face went serious again, looking intently at Abelard. "Answer me this, Abelard. How did you Apparate into Arabella's garden? This house is under a class-five ward, same as Hogwarts. I checked it myself this morning,"
"There's nothing wrong with that ward, Madam Auror. It's true that you can't Apparate through a class five ward." Abelard looked down at the ground briefly, closing his eyes. With a muted pop, Abelard Disapparated, reappearing seconds later behind Tonks with a low twanging sound. Tonks had her wand drawn again.
"Yes, you can't Apparate through a class five ward . . . but I can," Abelard stated with a slight smile.
"Godric’s ghost, don't do that!" Tonks shouted, angrily sheathing her wand in her sleeve. Looking at him with a narrow, guarded glare she asked "How many people know how to bypass the wards?"
"Oh, not to worry, Madam Auror, we killed all the people who had the basic abilities to do that trick during the last war. Dumbledore can't do it; Riddle can't do it either. Tell your Aurors, though, that if either side develops fully qualified Seers during this war, you can kiss your wards goodbye."
Harry spoke up, trying to piece together stories that Laurel had told him along with discussions he'd overheard at Grimmauld Place last summer. "Mr. Abelard, what's the connection between Seers and anti-Apparition wards?"
"It's Abelard, Harry, just Abelard, no Mister. To answer your question, that trick ties together Farsight, Foresight and Apparition. Precious few wizards or witches develop all three skills to the point where they can tie them together in a useful way. As far as I know, I'm the only one alive who can do that. The Seers worthy of the name left in Asia and the Americas don't care to learn anything about Apparition, saying that it 'disturbs their inner eye.'" Abelard paused, looking at Harry, then at Tonks. "Madam Auror, I need to get going if I'm going to accomplish anything tonight."
"Go right ahead," Tonks replied.
"Not here. I need to take Harry somewhere secure and under my control. The wards and traps surrounding this estate will interfere with the scan I need to perform. I'll bring him back in two hours." Abelard began to trace a rectangle in the air with two fingers. The rectangle began above his head and ended level with the grass. As his fingers traced through the air, a doorframe the colour of burnished bronze appeared.
"I don't think so," Tonks replied. "Nothing in my brief said that you'd be taking Harry away from this estate." Tonks began to finger the handle of her wand.
"It would take days to take down all of the wards and traps surrounding this estate — it is far easier to take Harry away, so I can accomplish something useful. It goes without saying that you'll have to remain." Abelard replied in a calm but firm voice as if he were explaining some unpleasant fact to a small child.
Tonks began to puff, similar to the way Hermione would wind herself up before she got into a screaming match with Ron. As Tonks began listing all the reasons why Harry should not be taken from her sight, Abelard began to pat down the pockets of his trousers, shirt and jacket as if looking for something. Opening his jacket, Abelard pulled a cloth- wrapped bundle much larger than anything he could have conceivably held inside his jacket. The bundle began to squirm, then sputter, breaking into the lusty wail of a bawling baby. This brought a brief stop to Tonk's tirade as she goggled at the swaddled bundle in disbelief. Abelard tossed the bundle to Tonks, who tripped over herself to catch the crying, flying baby. As she caught the bundle, she disappeared. A moment later, she re-appeared in the garden, only to disappear again, holding the bundle with one hand and her mobile phone in the other.
"Portkey?" Harry asked.
"Yup," Abelard replied.
"How did she get back?" Harry asked.
"Her mobile phone is a programmable Portkey — unfortunately the baby package is also programmed to incapacitate her if she tries to return here before two hours elapses."
"Where is she now?"
"A very nice beach in Tunisia, Harry. If she has the right attitude about it, she'll be just fine. Between now and then I'll think of something to make up to her — I have the notion that she's not going to have much of a sense of humor about this — Aurors can be so grim and narrow at times."
Abelard returned to the doorframe. Tracing his fingers where the doorknob would be if it were a conventional door, a squigglish handle appeared, shaped like a tilde. Turning to Harry, he motioned to the partially visible door.
"After you, Mr. Potter."
"Why can't you touch the door first?"
"A fair question. When you touch the handle to the door, it will be sealed to your touch, you will be able to open the door thereafter without any exercise of magic."
"Is that like a blood seal?"
"Yes and no. It's like a blood seal in that it will recognize you against all others on this planet, but it doesn't need any of your blood to seal the magic. Now where did you learn about blood seals? I thought they went out of style when Victoria was Queen."
"Uh, a lady friend of mine uses them," Harry replied.
"Sealing her diary?"
"Yeah, also sealing the knobs on my Passbox," Harry murmured, looking at the Cheshire doorframe, partially visible in the wan light from the street, barely visible in Mrs. Figg’s garden.
Abelard looked into Harry's eyes; Harry stared back. As he looked in Abelard's eyes, he noted how cold and dark those brown eyes appeared. He felt a shiver of cold go down his neck, like a drop of rainwater. The feeling passed quickly and Harry saw Abelard smiling again.
"Shall we?" Abelard asked.
Harry froze momentarily. "Dumbledore says that I can trust him, but Tonks was mightily worried about something. I’m safe here in Little Whinging, but he wants to take me away," Harry thought to himself. "How do I know it’s safe to go with you?" he asked.
"What did Dumbledore say?"
"He said I could trust you the same way I trust him."
"What does your heart say, Harry?"
Harry startled at this question. Several people regularly asked him what he thought, but almost no one, apart from Hermione, ever asked him visceral questions like this. He examined his brief perceptions of Abelard, put up against the scant bits that he’d gleaned from Laurel, Tonks and Dumbledore. His mum had trusted him enough to choose him for apprenticeship, but then again, his mum had trusted Peter Pettigrew also. "What do I feel?" he asked himself. Looking up at Abelard, Harry knew the answer. Abelard wanted nothing from him, and certainly had the power to take him anywhere against his will. He’d brushed Tonks, a very powerful witch, aside like an overly friendly lap dog, but when it came time to rush Harry elsewhere, he didn’t resort to force or trickery. For reasons that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on, he knew that Abelard could be trusted. He hoped this intuition was correct. He’d find out soon enough if he were wrong.
"That you’re ok." Harry answered. "Let’s go then."
Harry grasped the bronze handle. As he did so, he felt a brief tingle in his hand and the balance of the door became visible, looking like a brown and yellow striped gemstone. Harry searched his memory for the name of the stone. "Tigereye," he thought to himself. Twisting the handle, he pushed forward, opening the door into a brightly-lit garden by the sea. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Abelard behind him in Mrs. Figg’s garden, which was in the waning light of a setting sun. He walked through the door, keeping the doorknob firmly in his grip. Abelard followed, walking forward into the garden. He turned, looking at Harry.
"You can let go of the door now, Harry. You are quite safe here."
"Where am I?" Harry asked.
"A place you've never heard of. That’s not a sea, it’s a freshwater lake. By local time it's about half past noon. Put it all together and you can figure out that you're somewhere in North America, but that information alone won't get you very far. During the first war my security was never breached — which is more than I can say for Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, which is why I haven't spoken to him for almost 15 years."
"So, what do we do now?"
"You'll join me in a small snack, then you'll take a walk on the beach here while I read your signature — what Trelawney would call your aura."
"So what will that do?"
"It will tell me whether I've wasted my time coming here today, or whether you have a problem that I can assist in solving."
Harry let go of the door handle and pushed the door closed. As it clicked shut, it disappeared. Abelard took no notice of the disappearing door and began to walk down the beach. It was not a sandy beach, but instead consisted of smooth pebbles that crunched as they walked. They walked in silence for a while until they found a path that led away from the beach, up a small hill. At the top of the hill was a shelter — several high-backed reclining wooden Adirondack chairs were gathered in a circle. In the middle of the circle was a Muggle cooler. Abelard stood his cane next to the cooler, sat in one of the chairs and opened the cooler. Looking up at Harry, Abelard waved to one of the chairs. Harry sat down.
"What would you care for, Harry?"
"What are you offering?"
"Well, I've got stuffed buns filled with meat and vegetables, buns stuffed with what appears to be pineapple custard, and what looks like root beer."
"Root beer?"
"Think of it as American Butterbeer, but without any appreciable alcohol content."
"I'll take one of each."
"Good choice — I'm quite fond of all of what's in here today."
They ate in silence, Harry discovering that he was actually quite hungry, notwithstanding the fact that he'd eaten dinner with the Dursleys just over an hour ago. The food was warm; the root beer was cold. The buns were delicious. The meat bun was filled with what appeared to be chopped beef, onion and shredded carrot with a hint of ginger. Abelard was dipping his in a bowl of a dark smelly liquid as he ate it. He offered Harry a bowl of his own, but after sniffing the liquid, Harry politely declined. The custard filled buns were warm and filled with a concoction that teased Harry's tastebuds as he tried to identify the flavours involved: pineapple, coconut, a hint of nutmeg? Harry abandoned the analysis and devoured the bun, wiping the crumbs from his hands and face when he was done. He looked up to find Abelard watching him.
"Care for a gin-gin?"
"What's that?"
"My own version of a Muggle sweet — it's a hard candy flavored with ginger, lovely for clearing the palate."
"Sure."
Harry took the candy, which was in a small plastic wrapper. Putting the wrapper in his pocket (as there was no wastebasket handy) Harry began to suck on the candy which was quite strong flavored, balancing the hot of fresh ginger with a pleasant sweetness. As he sucked on the sweet, he noticed that his vision was beginning to go odd. A good part of his mind began to panic, thinking that Dumbledore had been wrong about Abelard being trustworthy.
"Don't be alarmed, Harry, you may be seeing things, courtesy of the gin-gin. You're perfectly safe. What do you see?"
Harry replied warily, "I see a circle of light surrounding you. I see a similar layer of light around me. The grass is turning orange and the chairs, which had been white, are turning blue and red."
"Very good, very good indeed," Abelard said, putting his fingertips together. "If you spit the candy out and wash it down with some root beer, you'll find your vision returns to normal."
Harry took aim and blew the gin-gin several yards down the trail leading up to the shelter. Three swigs of bubbly root beer and a satisfying belch later, his vision was back to normal. Harry looked at Abelard.
"So, what was that all about with the gin-gin?" Harry asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
Abelard didn't answer at first, looking out over the lake, scratching his close cropped white beard. Turning to Harry after a moment he said, "It's a screening test."
"For what?"
"For Seers."
Harry looked at Abelard in stunned silence. "So, what's it mean?" he said finally.
"It means that you inherited more from your mum than her pretty green eyes and sense of empathy. You're a Seer, Harry; or at least you've got the gift, whether you choose to develop it or not is up to you."
"You must be joking, Abelard. I've been on the edge of flunking Divination since first year."
"I'm as serious as a Dementor attack, Harry. If it's any comfort to you, your mum felt the same way about Divination. She called Sybil's predecessor a hopeless, gormless fraud. She was correct, of course. That teacher knew as much about being a Seer as I know about breeding sea serpents."
"Do you know much about breeding sea serpents?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Not a blessed thing." Abelard replied, a crinkle in his eyes suggesting a smile, while the balance of his face looked somber. "Sit down, boy, it's time to do some work. Ever played with bones?"
"Bones?"
"Dice," Abelard said as he pulled a pair of giant dice from his pocket. Each was the size of a walnut; one was black with white dots, the other was red with green dots. "Standard cubical dice, each with six sides, numbered with coloured dots on the cubes' faces. We'll start with one die first. Pick up the red die. Good. Now, close your eyes. Visualize throwing the die. Now, in your mind, look to see which number is on top after throwing the die. Got that? Now, throw the die."
Harry did so.
"I'll be hanged," Harry said, mildly surprised. "That was just chance — let me try it again." Harry closed his eyes briefly, opened them and threw the red die again. "I'll be hanged twice," Harry said, his temper beginning to rise. "What's the trick?" Harry was certain that Abelard was having him on, manipulating the dice somehow. No way was Harry willing to believe that he was seeing the fall of chance before it happened.
"No trick," Abelard explained. "This is Foresight, plain and simple. The residue from the gin-gin is enhancing your natural abilities, but for this trick you either have it or you don't. You have it, strongly, just like your Mum."
"Is that why Voldemort killed her?" Harry asked, his voice cracking slightly.
"Harry, the proper answer to that question will take more time and energy than I have right now. I will be seeing you many times this summer, teaching you many things. Hold that question for our next session."
"You'll answer it then?"
"I'll answer every question truthfully, Harry, I cannot teach if there is a lie between us."
"You'll answer it next time?
"Yes, Harry."
"All right, then. What do we do now?"
"I need to scry. Take a walk on the beach; skip stones; take a swim if you wish; anything that doesn't involve using magic with a wand. Come back here in a half hour. I may appear to be asleep then, but I assure you that I'll be hard at work," Abelard said with a slight smile.
"Okay then," Harry said, rising from the chair, giant dice in his left hand. He crunched down the path to the freshwater sea, rolling the dice in his fingers. Looking back once, he saw Abelard leaning back in the wooden chair, hands on his knees, palms up, eyes closed, looking for all the world like an old man napping in the sun. Harry noted the time on his watch, deciding that he'd walk north on the beach and began his stroll. About a tenth of a mile down the beach from the path he found a number of flat stones, suitable for skipping. Smiling to himself, he tried his hand at skipping the stones. The water was rough and Harry's aim unsure. The first two stones merely sank into the water. The next three stones, however, skipped twice each before joining their companions underwater.
The pebbly beach gave way to dark, grey-brown sand that made for comfortable walking. Harry enjoyed this stroll, taking off his trainers and socks to wade in the gentle surf as he walked along the shore. The water was cold, cold enough that Harry was sure that he was not going for a swim, but the cold water on his feet helped keep him awake as he walked. It was a strange feeling to be as tired as at the end of the day, while walking on a beach at noon, but Harry had grown used to much odd juxtaposition since entering the magical world, and took this one in stride. Looking at his watch, he reckoned that it was about time to return to Abelard. As he came to the border where the sandy beach became the pebbly beach, he paused to put his shoes on. He rolled the socks and put them into his pockets — experience had taught him that it was nearly impossible to put socks onto wet feet without using a Drying charm first, and Abelard had requested no magic with a wand. Harry mused whether or not Mafalda Hopkirk could detect a Drying charm performed in North America from her London office. He was fairly sure that he was beyond her reach, but today was not the day to find out the answer to that question.
Harry crunched up the path to the circle of chairs. Abelard did not stir as he approached. Harry looked at his watch and then looked back to Abelard. Without opening his eyes, Abelard spoke.
"I only look asleep — I was quite busy. I was glad to see that you regained your knack for skipping stones after the first two throws."
"How could you see that from here?" Harry queried.
"Farsight, dear pupil, the companion to Foresight. Line of sight is irrelevant to Seers — if only we had time to make you a proper student. No matter that — it's time to return."
"How did the scrying go?"
"It was sufficient. I can teach you how to close your mind to Voldemort, which is why Dumbledore sent his wolf to find me."
"You know Remus?"
"Yes, of course I know Remus — he was the only member of the Order of the Phoenix who tried to contact me after I went into exile after the first war. He never found me that time, but I met with him after word got out that he was looking for me. Dumbledore figured that if he were successful once in smoking me out, he'd be successful again. He was right, of course. Not much escapes that man, but when he's wrong, he's disastrously wrong."
"I know."
"Yes, you would know, wouldn't you? Could you be so kind as to assist me in rising?"
Harry extended his hand to Abelard. His grip was firm, but his hand was small, shrunken like the rest of him with age. With an "oof" he stood, turning around slowly to grasp his cane with one hand and taking Harry’s elbow with the other. They began to walk down the path.
"What about the cooler?" Harry inquired.
"The brothers will fetch it before this afternoon ends."
"The brothers?"
"There's a Greyfriar Abbey about half an hour's walk south of here. This stretch of beach is part of their grounds. They are kind enough to let me use their grounds from time to time. I repay their favors — we find the relationship to be mutually beneficial," Abelard explained.
As the path emptied out onto the beach, Abelard let go of Harry's elbow, speeding up the pace of his walk a bit. Stopping suddenly, Abelard looked down at the pebbles briefly, closing his eyes. When he opened them he took his fingers and traced the doorframe again, complete with doorknob.
"Does the door go to different places?" Harry asked.
"It goes where I tell it," Abelard answered. "Could you be so kind as to pick up a couple of stones, Harry?"
"Sure."
"Thanks. It's time. Please take the door, Harry."
Harry grasped the door's handle, twisting it and pushing. Again, as he pushed the door forward, it became visible, opening out into Mrs. Figg's garden where it was now night. Harry walked forward, letting go of the door this time, stepping aside for Abelard to follow. If Tonks had made it back from the beach in Tunisia, she wasn't anywhere to be seen. The door closed of its own accord and disappeared.
Abelard shuffled off to sit on the bench again, looking tired, old and fragile. As he sat, he beckoned to Harry.
"Do you still have those stones, Harry?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. We'll need them shortly."
"Are we waiting?"
"Yes, lad, for the Auror to return. It’s time for me to make amends for my little trick." Pulling a pocket watch from his jacket pocket, he opened the watch, consulted it briefly and closed it again. "About now."
A tinkling noise was heard, like a far away wind chime. Tonks was back in the garden, carrying a rolled up beach towel. She looked at Harry, then at Abelard. She started to say something and then stopped herself. Her hair changed from pink to blonde to tomato red, lengthening as it changed until it was down to the middle of her back.
"Was that completely necessary, Abelard?" she asked, trying to maintain some dignity.
"Would you have let me take the boy off, alone, if I had not done that?" Abelard countered.
"Probably not."
"There's your answer then," said Abelard. "Harry would you kindly smack those two stones together?"
Harry shot Abelard a look of puzzlement, but he was sufficiently used to cryptic old wizards that he did as he was told, holding a stone in each palm as he clapped them together. Harry felt a flutter of magic as the stones collided and knew that he had to open his hands carefully, as the rocks had cracked and crumbled.
"Bring them here, lad," Abelard commanded.
Harry walked over to the bench were Abelard was sitting, held out his hands and opened them. A fine white powder covered Harry’s palms. The remaining chunks of stone were also coated with the powder. Abelard picked up three of the bigger chunks of stone and wiped the powder off with his fingers. Removing the powder revealed transparent bits of stone with swirls of brown and green and milky white. Two of the chunks were shaped like large teardrops, while the other was a flat coin shape. As Abelard finished wiping the powder off the teardrops, he made a complex twisting motion with his finger and thumb. When he finished, each teardrop was now affixed to a gold earring hook. He made a similar motion with the coin shaped stone, which now had a length of gold chain attached to it, making a striking necklace. Blowing the powder off of his hands, he held the necklace and earrings out to Tonks.
"A peace offering, Madam Auror."
Tonks walked over to the bench, tucking the towel under one arm. Stooping slightly to pick up the jewelry she examined them in the dim light.
"I generally don’t take kindly to bribes, but in this case I may make an exception. They're gorgeous, Abelard. How did you know I liked agate?"
"Lucky guess, Madam. Can you find it in your heart to forgive a miserable old man?"
"Just this time, Abelard, just this time."
Abelard looked into Tonk’s eyes, smiling briefly. "Thank you. Tell Dumbledore that I can do what he requests. I’ll be back Wednesday at 9:00 in the morning, to start with Harry’s lessons."
"Why don’t you tell him yourself?" Tonks asked.
"We haven’t talked for 15 years; I’m not quite ready to stroll into his parlor as if nothing has happened."
"When will you be ready?"
Abelard looked at Tonks as if she’d just poked him. "Soon. Tell him . . . tell him . . .I think it’s time we talked. Messages left with Fr. Martin manage to get through the fastest."
"Thank you, Abelard."
"For what?"
"For coming when you were called. Moody told me what happened. He didn’t think you’d come, not for Dumbledore."
"He’s wrong on that point. I’d answer any request Dumbledore made on behalf of his students. Whatever has gone on between us does not change the respect I have for his position. Your wolf friend played the winning card though."
"What was that?"
Abelard stood, walked hesitantly over to Harry, ruffling his hair. His eyes were wet. "There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Lily, even after she’s gone." Abelard straightened himself, tugging his jacket straight. "Harry, until we meet again, I must ask that you refrain from playing the bones. Can you do that?"
"Yes, Abelard."
Abelard bowed to Tonks, nodded to Harry, blinked briefly and Disapparated.
"Blimey, that man gives me the creeps," Tonks said.
"Why’s that?" Harry asked. He was still forming his own opinion of Abelard. He was odd, brilliant at times, definitely dangerous, but he felt comfortable, like an old shoe.
"He looks so harmless — and he’s anything but. I’d rather hunt snow dragons in the dark than cross that man. C’mon, Harry, it’s time to take you home."
Tonks strained her eyes briefly and swished her wand. She morphed into Mrs. Figg, and was dressed again in Mrs. Figg’s normal attire, down to her threadbare tartan slippers. Taking Harry’s arm, she walked back to the Dursleys’ as if she’d done it a hundred times. She let go of his arm as they walked up the driveway to Number 4 Privet Drive. "Good night, Harry — don’t stay up too late."
"Good night, Sis’," Harry said.
This brought a brief smile to Tonks’ lips. Pulling back into character, she turned around and shuffled back to her house, disappearing into the darkness.
+++++++++
Copyright © 2003 J Cornell — all rights reserved.
Author’s note: True Seers often exercise complementary gifts: Foresight, the ability to see future events and Farsight, the ability to see things as they truly are, whether hidden or a long way away. The buns Abelard served Harry are staples of Chinese cuisine — I’ve made the version stuffed with meat and vegetables — they are known as Bao Tse. The smelly liquid Abelard dipped them in is rice vinegar — it’s an acquired taste. The pinapple custard buns are found in Chinese bakeries — I’ve never found a decent recipe — if you find one, let me know. Gin-gins are available in certain Muggle sweet stores, but not the version Abelard used, which are custom-made by very skilled Wizard Apothecaries, using restricted ingredients. Snow dragons, as any good Mahjong player could tell you, are exceptionally rare, and have the ability to turn invisible at will.