Archive of Our Own

Dear readers, as you know, I have an annual date for tea with the Queen; lovely old girl. Well, one year, as I was sitting there eating my crumpets and regaling her with the delightful tale of what had happened to me at the hairdressers just that morning, what should happen but another guest – one Chris Bonington – interrupted and began to talk about himself! Apparently he had recently been to a place called Tibet, and he thought this was quite a thing to brag about. He asked if I had ever been there, and of course I hadn't. He actually challenged me to go! He said that the trip would do me good!

Well I was shocked and quite frankly a little hurt at his implication, but you know, dear readers, a thought occurred to me. What a sad place this Tibet must be! Surely this man was a bit confused, and he meant to say that the trip would allow me to do some good for Tibet! Well you know that I never refuse a cry for help!

As soon as I was done with my tea, I got right up and went home to pack. I had just bought this lovely new matched luggage set in lilac – my favorite color – and I was quite excited to use it, I can tell you. One of the tricks to packing for a different country is to be prepared. If you only pack your hair care products for warm damp environments and you discover that your destination is a touch cooler or drier, you'll be in frizz central in no time. The same can be said of wardrobe choices, as you can never be certain of local fashions until you arrive. Thus, being prepared for every contingency is the best piece of advice I can give you. The second best piece of advice I can give you is to pay extra for the luggage with the expandable interiors and the featherlight charms. You'd be amazed at how little can fit into a standard trunk, and at how heavy moisturizer can be. Trust me on this one.

Well, as soon as I had packed everything I might need for this trip, and had all of my beautiful new luggage ready to go, I apparated straight to Tibet.

I will start by telling you that Tibet is a very boring place to look at. Nothing but hills and snow and weak, struggling grasses. The whole country really needs a decorator's touch. And it has a horrible combination of cold and dry air that does nothing good for my complexion, let me add. However, I was not deterred. I immediately set out in search of some Tibetians that I could help. And do you know, just around the first corner, who I should happen to run into?

A Yeti!

Now, these creatures are thought by Muggles to be a hoax, as they are quite shy and rarely seen. However, Yetis, like all magical creatures, recognize the Wizards that they owe their lives to, and they will flock to us. This one seemed a bit upset, however, so I immediately subdued it with the spell, Monstrous Snuffleufagus, thereby giving it a head cold. This made the poor beast so miserable and saddened that he immediately sat down and began to cry.

Dear readers, as you know, I am a compassionate man. I offered to reverse my spell if the Yeti would become my guide and show me around Tibet. He agreed at once, of course. I think he was quite young, and I might have been the first Wizard he ever met. I had certainly given him his first ever head cold, and the poor thing was absolutely baffled as to how to handle these events. Anyway, he agreed at once to be my guide, and I promptly loaded him up with my luggage. Of course, they come with an automatic resizing charm, but why carry them in my pockets when I've got something ready to haul them around?

The first place that I asked to see was the Yeti's home. Now very few Wizards have ever been granted the privilege of visiting a Yeti household and seeing the young Yeti children in their natural environment. Should you ever travel to Tibet, I highly doubt you will be extend that honor, because, as I have said, the Yeti are so painfully bashful. However, if you do manage to befriend one and gain their trust, do ask, because it is a quite unusual experience.

The Yeti live in large igloos, made of chunks of ice that they have stacked together – remarkable builders, the Yeti – and form small villages. Despite their shyness around Muggles and Wizards, Yetis are quite sociable among their own kind. If you find one, make no mistake there will be others.

Once at the domicile of my Yeti, I learned that he had a family: a wife and two young daughters were waiting for us in his igloo. Of course, Yeti's wear no clothes, so historians have had difficulty in the past distinguishing the males from the females. I, of course, have had no trouble with that, and now dear readers I shall share my secret with you. Look at the hairstyles. A male Yeti is quite distinguishable simply because of the lack of care he takes with his fur. Of course, by the end of our time together, my Yeti had made several steps forward in that regard, and I got him a lovely brush and comb set as a parting gift.

Now, these Yeti were quite the gossips, and they happened to know of a nearby Monastery that was having some trouble with a fearful monster. Now, having no fear of any monster on this planet – with the exception of a bad hairdresser – I bravely demanded that my Yeti guide show me to this beast. Upon reaching the Monastery, we were beset by a strange noise, but this was apparently not the beast! The beast had taken up residence in a storeroom, and was terrifying any monk who entered.

Well, dear readers, if you have been following along in my other books, I'm sure that you can deduce, as I did, exactly what kind of foe was attacking these monks. And with a swish of my wand and a command of Bogartus Vanishum the wretched old thing disappeared!

These Monks were so grateful to me that they chanted my name for hours! It was quite flattering, I can tell you. However, after a few days of that, it got a bit tiresome. And surely there were more Tibetians I could help still waiting! So with my Yeti guide, I set off. As we traveled, I learned that there was a large mountain in Tibet that is something of a local legend. Do not fear, dear readers, if you have never heard of it before. I certainly hadn't, but the locals that my Yeti and I encountered all prompted us to visit it. Well, who am I to refuse to see the local sights? I struck out for this Mount Everest at once!

On the way there, my Yeti scheduled a small detour into a nearby wooded area. Apparently there is a Muggle animal here, a Giant Panda, which is quite rare, and on the verge of dying out altogether. Clearly, this was one of the Tibetians that my good friend Chris Bonington had suggested that I help. Upon seeing the Panda, which was a large black and white bear, I had a brilliant thought.

Some large problems have large solutions, and it will take several wizards years to figure them out. Some problems need whole spells created, or potions developed, to solve them. But sometimes, a large problem does not call for a large solution. Sometimes a large problem has a quite simple solution, and it takes a Wizard of incredible genius to cut through all of the technical jargon and complications that others add, in order to point out the quite obvious solution. This situation was one of those latter times, dear readers, and I was just the Wizard - I hesitate to say genius wizard in regards to myself, as you know how modest I am, but I do not object to you coming to that conclusion – I was just the Wizard to solve this shocking problem.

For these Giant Pandas – which, when compared to a Yeti, were not so giant, but then Muggles have never been strong on logic in that arena, and perhaps there is a Smaller Panda that I have yet to meet, so the name might be warranted in that sense – I immediately envisioned the most brilliant solution. You, dear readers, if you have ever spent time in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts or one of our other find academies of higher learning, I am quite sure that you will recognize the spell I used. Again, this was a problem that called not for a complex solution, but for a simple solution that only a genius would recognize. Upon this singular Panda I simply cast the duplicatus spell, which any student who has copied notes for a friend should recognize. Why, within minutes the little wooded area was simply filled with those Giant Pandas, munching away on their leaves.

I am quite certain that the Muggles will be ecstatic, when they discover this heretofore unknown reserve of their Pandas. They, of course, will not know that I was the one behind it, but part of helping people is sometimes not getting the recognition one deserves. Let that be a lesson to you now, dear readers, before you go out and attempt to do magnificent deeds for an unappreciative public.

Now, this little Giant Panda adventure had quite delayed my Yeti and I from our destination, which was one Mount Everest.

Once we reached the base of this mountain, I discovered that the place was swarming with Muggles. They used all kinds of strange equipment and created a huge mess just to climb to the top of this mountain. While I have no real interest in Mountainology, I did want to show Mr. Chris Bonington that I was visiting all of Tibet, and I thought that the view from the top of the mountain might be quite pretty. So, without further ado, I apparated to the top of the mountain. It was quite pretty, as I had assumed, and very quiet. After enjoying the view for a few minutes I apparated back to where my Yeti was waiting.

That done, the Yeti and I prepared to continue our tour of the rest of Tibet. However, no sooner had we set off then an urgent message came to us. One of the Yeti's young daughters was quite sick. Since I had so impressed the Yeti with my medical knowledge by giving him a head cold and getting rid of it again, he insisted that I come back to his igloo and heal his daughter. Now, healing magical beasts is not one of my many specialties, but I would never turn down a creature in need.

So we set back for his home posthaste. Once there I found that several of the Yeti children were sick, and I quickly analyzed their symptoms. Once my list was compiled, the answer became quite obvious, and I knew at once what was ailing them. It is quite rare, but there are few Muggle diseases that can affect Magical animals. I have hypothesized in the past that these diseases might be Magical in origin, accounting for their flexibility in host, but that is a discussion for a different place. However, having done some research into the subject, I was uniquely qualified to recognize that these Yeti children were suffering from a Muggle animal disease, namely, Mad Cow disease.

Now, dear readers, I know what you are thinking. However, provided that a Wizard takes a few elementary precautions, this disease cannot spread to him. Once I was properly protected, I simply mixed up a basic curative potion for the disease. Now the trick to illnesses that jump between Muggle and Magical creatures is that the potion itself is not enough. A spell must also be incanted as the potion is drunk, thereby completing the healing process. As the young Yeti's drank down the Bovinus sanitus potion, I performed a quite tricky bit of wandwork for the Yeticus Cureitem incantation.

And do you know, within half an hour those little Yeti children were running around in the snow as good as new! Not that I ever had any doubts, but there can always be complications with Muggle transference diseases.

Well, after that, the Yetis were all really quite taken with me. They were so impressed with my numerous feats in Tibet that they begged me to stay and take care of them forever. They practically worshiped me as a King! It was all quite a bit embarrassing, truth be told, but I withstood their affection with good grace. It never hurts to be gracious to those who are beneath you, after all.

However, I simply couldn't stay. The year was almost drawing to a close, and of course I had my annual tea date to consider. It would be quite improper to stand up the Queen, though I'm sure, if I explained the situation properly, she would have understood. However, I had other matters to attend to back home, and I had received quite a few urgent owls regarding matters that needed my attention.

So, with a heavy heart, I bid my Yeti followers goodbye. As a favor to a friend, I was not apparating home, but returning by sea. The Yetis all gathered around the dock, many of them weeping, and saw me off. I was quite moved by their touching display of emotion on my behalf, and it put me in a right melancholy mood for the first part of the voyage. In the second half of the voyage, my attention was quite captivated by a kelpie that was besieging the underwater city of Atlantis, but that's a story for another book. *wink*

And that is the tale of my Year with a Yeti. Should you, dear reader, ever find yourself in Tibet, do look him up. I've quite forgotten his name, but you'll surely be able to recognize him from my description and from the numerous rare photos I have included in this book.

Until next time, dear readers. Until next time.

Gilderoy Lockhart