The Global Gramophone was already providing hilarity, Hogwarts students leaning into the giant bell and letting the voice booming out of it tickle their faces and proclaim all sorts of strange attempts at translating their words and slang.

Johann had managed to persuade a group of Slytherins who were trying out swearwords to pack it in by teaching them 'my willy is really tiny' in the tongues of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. He falsely informed them it meant something far more insulting to the person they spoke it to. The boys went off merrily telling Beauxbatons girls that their underpants weren't very full at all, and he shared the joke with them in their common tongue as they came closer to the stand.

It was a joy this year to have the other schools about. They were precisely the young faces the Department needed, with their languages and foreign knowledge. Such a shame that they didn't teach languages here, well other than Latin and Greek within spells and the interpretation of runes and numbers if that could be considered language.


He had stepped behind to sip a little water as he'd been chattering for a while now with passing visitors, and as he returned he heard the gramophone had switched to Russian and was barking out orders in its mechanical voice.

"Russian eh?" Johann asked, in Russian and then switched to English on spotting his visitor. "Just one of the many languages the gramophone attempts to translate." He gestured to the neat case of records which allowed the languages to be switched. Meanwhile the device translated his words in abrupt bursts.

"Do you fancy conversing with our cousins in the North?"

So far Gabriella had decided she was going to be an auror, a healer, an obliviator, the owner of a robes shop, a werewolf capturer, an alchemist and a famous writer. She’d visited each of these booths and told them the career was definitely for her. Since she was ten she’d been dreaming of becoming a frogspawn collecter for McMarty’s frog and toad shop. She’d been working hard to achieve success at the Quibbler. She absolutely adored healing old people with bunions.

How else would these people feel as if their day had been worth anything? Someone had to show interest in frogspawn collecting didn’t they?

Now she was wondering into a tent which didn’t seem as full as the others. In fact it was practically empty with a large gramophone taking precedent by spilling out a load of gobbledegook. Well it sounded foreign and unpleasant on the tongue.

"Do you fancy conversing with our cousins in the North?" the lanky bloke in smart robes asked the frizzy haired teenager. Her lips pursed as she glanced at the shouting gramophone and back to him.

“Not particularly. I’ve met some real obnoxious Russians. Like the wodka disintegrates their manners.” Gabby responded, using a poor imitation of a Russian accent to say their favourite drink. “You’re tall. And foreign.”

To his surprise, the girl the other side of the giant bell of the machine knocked him back. Her words were translated robotically and inexactly.

"You're tall. And foreign." His long fingers lifted the needle from the record, hushing the third party in the conversation.

"Your observation is impeccable for someone of your age." He replied smoothly, raising his eyebrows and smiling. There was sarcasm behind the statement, but so far this had been one of the more interesting responses to his approaches.

"You're short," he returned, comparing her height to his best friend of the opposite gender, Hannah, who spent her days in heels with the same grace as if she were barefoot to his amazement, "and although a Hogwarts student, your accent isn't quite clearcut." He narrowed his eyes and stepped out properly towards her, "I'd hazard a guess that you grew up for some time abroad when you were very young."

With a quirk of his head and one of his broad grins, he extended his hand to shake.
"Johann, I'm a linguist, you are?"

"Ever thought of a career with level five?"

“I still live abroad.” Gabriella plainly informed the tall wizard who’d just called her short. How charming!

Nevertheless, she took the hand offered to her and grasped it to give a firm shake. Her dark eyes stared up at his, judging the shake for enthusiasm. A limp shake would deter her from having a conversation straight away. Gabby’s dad had taught her that. Someone with a limp handshake wasn’t worth the fingers they used. Perhaps not the most truthful of his statements but it was one of the only ones she actually listened to. But this lanky bloke was firm and she released his fingers with a warm smile.

“Gabby. And of course! It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I was ten.” He looked like he needed the encouragement. “So…you’re basically a professional gossip. You get paid to talk. You’ve got it easier than the bat bogey blaster in the tent over there. He looks like he’s blasted his way through a lot of tough bat bogies. Hard life. Talking though. That I can definitely do.”

The girl glanced into the gramophone and yelled into it “How much do you get paid?”

Gabby was it, so easily changed to gobby which was a delightful bit of British slang that meant to run off at the mouth - talk too much, or to spill secrets and spread gossip.

"I may only have met you, but on first impressions I would agree that's the case." Johann replied smoothly, though the sarcasm kept creeping into his tone when he was making an effort to be very polite indeed towards the young witch.

"How much do you get paid?"
"HOW MUCH DO YOU GET PAID" Yelled the gramophone in Russian in return, the needle having falling back onto the record at some point. Nearby visitors had stopped to stare.

"Good question," Johann replied, stealing some time to consider an answer by lifting the needle and changing the record to Italian instead for something a little less abrupt.

"Linguists work in lots of different fields, but if you have a good grasp of at least a couple of languages, you would probably earl about 4000[1] Galleons a year. I speak 4 fluently, and 3 more to a good standard, though I'm studying them still. The best translators can earn 9 or 10,000 Galleons, as a guide, though they are full time with the International Confederation of Wizards and similar. I prefer to work with the British Ministry, which keeps my work rather varied." He lowered the needle again and a woman's voice began to rattle out instead, speaking Italian,

"It's not all talking, its a lot of documents and research too. From court hearings to the Tetrawizard tournament." He explained, gesturing to the school around them.

"What languages do you speak? Why do you fancy a life of travel and culture?"

1.

HP Lexicon - £5 = 1 Galleon = 10.07USD = 7.38€. UK Linguists are apparently not paid very well, but graduates are expected to earn at least £17,000 starting rate, which I inflated, and UN/EU translators are reported to earn £3,800 per month or more. Johann does lots of freelance work, so he's better off overall.

“Boring research and documents and crappy pay?” Gabby stepped back from the gramophone which had started piping up in Italian. She shifted her weight onto her left and scraped some big curly hair back from her face, letting it fall down her back in its usual cascading mess. “You’re not selling this to me, Johann.”

Now what languages did she speak? Gabby thought for a moment, lips pursed. She’d never really considered before. Schooling before Hogwarts had been somewhat mixed, moving between Primary schools nearing their home in the French alps when kids or teachers had started to figure she was different. She’d really been all over, forced to speak funny tongues at a young age.

“Well there’s English,” The Gryffindor started, extending one finger “French, Italian – I didn’t like that one, erm…my German’s naff. That was only a few months. Then there’s Spanish. That’s really rusty. No hablado a español desde tenía cinco años.” A small frown graced Gabby’s features as she remembered her mother speaking to her in the foreign tongue to the displeasure of Felix but the frown vanished almost immediately and she was staring up to Johann the linguist. “I can’t write that one.”

“But…aren’t linguists a bit pointless, anyway? Everyone practically speaks English. Or is that why the pay’s a bit crud?”

She counted off her languages on the fingers of one hand, and he chuckled at her responses about preferring some more than others.

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But sometimes its out of politeness, sometimes its for clarity's sake. Sometimes its because it's tradition and its rude when we go abroad and don't try to speak their language, or political. The pay's not all that bad, undoubtedly better than the bat bogey bloke you mentioned." Johann thumbed in the direction she had earlier when mentioning the wizard.

"You have a good number of languages already, but have you considered any languages unique to our world, mermish, gobbledegook, troll?" He asked, looking to challenge her, "The worldly travel, the culture - though I wouldn't recommend troll culture - are all perks of the job. Do your job well and you could get round the world without paying a sickle for a place to stay, based on the hospitality of those you've met on the job."

He shrugged, "and alright, I do a lot of work on the side, which helps, you got me there."

"What else have you seen here that's caught your imagination then?"

“I’ve never wanted to learn these language, Johann.” Gabriella plainly put down the linguist’s suggestion that she learn some new languages. “The whole process is laborious and dull. And why would you want to converse in gobbledegook anyway? That only opens up chatting to goblins and they’re not the most…loquacious.” As usual the words spilling from Gabby’s mouth didn’t seem to pass through her brain first. The filter probably would have stopped as soon as she’d entered the tent if they were. But it just so happened that the girl felt her opinion needed to be heard.

But then Johann mentioned work on the side and Gabby liked the idea of mystery and intrigue. A lone traveller venturing around the world for the ministry, taking dangerous jobs on the side to save up and buy a castle. The witch of mystery, ready to take on the world.

“Work on the side?” Not preparing to leave this tall foreigner alone anytime soon, Gabriella found a nearby table and lifted herself up onto it where she sat, legs dangling down and kicking out in front of her.

“Well I might be an auror, a healer,” once more the girl’s fingers stretched out for each listed career path “a poison taster, snake charmer, flying car creator, bat bogey researcher, fossil collector, curse breaker, model, writer, linguist.” The girl grinned at her new acquaintance. “My imagination gets caught by a ton of things, Johann.”

But that was besides the point.

“So, work on the side then? Are we talking the dangerous life threatening type? Or the being paid to befriend a lonely weirdo type.”

When Gabriella mentioned she had no interest in learning languages, Johann started to file her as a wasted conversation - in that although she was so far not too awkward to speak with, she wasn't a potential recruit, unless Hamilton wanted someone in trading standards who could wind him up.

And now she had sat down, so there was no ease in escaping her soon. He supposed there was not a flock of students in at the moment, other than ones already talking to other members of the department, and the gramophone could continue to entertain a passing interest.

"My imagination gets caught by a ton of things, Johann."

"Seemingly!" He replied as politely as he could, feeling that her outlook at Durmstrang would have been squeezed out of her when she had to choose her discipline.

"So, work on the side then? Are we talking the dangerous life threatening type? Or the being paid to befriend a lonely weirdo type."

"Well," Johann glanced left and right about him and then resigned himself to the fact his feet were aching, and sat down beside her, possibly a little closer than the average stranger would.

"It rather depends on the client. The lonely weirdos perhaps want to polish their conversation skills in a foreign language, or are running a business that needs documents rewritten, but the more dangerous has included trying to decode texts in old dialects, for experimental charms. It was risky - I wasn't doing the casting, but if I got things wrong, it was potentially very dangerous indeed. People d… could have died."

He corrected himself, remembering that the particular piece of research he was alluding to was actually conducted for Vedir Prideaux. Although Prideaux was a Hogwarts governor, translating curses that could kill a man were not noble causes to tell a student.

"By the way, poison taster, wouldn't that be a rather short career?"

"… poison taster, wouldn't that be a rather short career?"

"Gaaaaaabby!" Ariadne exclaimed, swinging round on one foot to face the Department of International Magical Cooperation's stand. She hadn't forgotten about them, they were on her shortlist of 'respectable careers to tell teachers and grandparents about'.

There was her classmate sitting on a table chatting to some tall, pale, dark haired wizard in suit robes, and was she flirting with the bloke, or was it just Ari's imagination? Gabs rivalled Ariadne for the number of people she'd strike up conversation with, often without invitation. Her outgoing personality was a force unto its own.

It certainly didn't sound like they were talking particular business with him asking her about poisons...

"What you doing in here, Florean Flortescues has got summer jobs going and they're giving out ice cream if you can string a sentence together. Like the easiest job interview ever. Or is there like some foreign food stash in here that you're coveting?"

She put her hands on her hips and flashed a smile at the bloke who was talking to Gabby.

"She been talking your ear off?"

Johann the German curly haired wizard sat down beside Gabriella the whatever nationality she was classed as curly haired witch. He had sat very close. Her feet were swinging back and forth as she listened to him as he discussed his life with dangerous translations and experimental charms. Gabriella humoured him with a smile but in reality she wanted to show him some really dangerous work like dealing with the dragons at home.

"By the way, poison taster, wouldn't that be a rather short career?"

Gabby’s mouth opened to respond when a  shout came from outside the tent. "Gaaaaaabby!" The Gryffindor turned her head to see Ari making her way inside the tent, chatting away about easy jobs and interviews. Unfortunately a summer job was never really a luxury Gabriella Dagon ever had. Since she was about 15 she went home to don her overalls and work clothes and get to work on the ranch for her dad. It all ended up being worth it when they left for Egypt though.

 Ari asked if Gabby had been talking Johann’s ear off and instead of rolling her eyes she offered her friend a smile, her eyes widening slightly to show Ari her amusement.
“Johann has been telling me about translating dangerous dialects. It’s a scary world out there, Ari. Maybe you should apply for a job at Florean Flortescues. Instead of risking your life with old texts you could get fat and queasy on kelpie ice cream.”

Here was another student, interrupting their conversation. Johann was a little thankful - he wasn't sure if he could get the first student out of the tent very quickly…

The gramophone began to try and translate a couple of words as the girl of similar age to Gabby called inside.

"What you doing in here, Florean Flortescues has got summer jobs going and they're giving out ice cream if you can string a sentence together. Like the easiest job interview ever. Or is there like some foreign food stash in here that you're coverting?"

"No, no food," Johann confirmed quietly, though suspected he wasn't heard, the second girl was as loud as Gabby.

"She been talking your ear off?" Beside him Gabby grinned widely.

"Johann has been telling me about translating dangerous dialects. It's a scary world out there, Ari. Maybe you should apply for a job at Florean Florescues. Instead of risking your life with old texts you could get fat and queasy on kelpie ice cream."

"They do that flavour?" Johann echoed, confused, he wondered what that would taste like.

"You would like to risk your life with old text though?" He asked the newcomer, not entirely sure if she had merely entered to speak to her friend or to actually enquire.

"Of course they do that flavour - they do every flavour under the sun, even ones you haven't imagined yet. I suggested lamppost the other year and it took them fifteen minutes to work out that exact metallic taste, and my tongue was stuck to it until the lot melted." Ariadne informed the wizard who was mightily uninformed about ice cream.

"Nah, things to do in summer, aren't there?" She referred directly to her friend. "Were you thinking of sacking off the dragons and working in a Ministry office or something, or had someone caught your eye?" Ariadne chuckled, hands on hips, and then raised both eyebrows at Johann who seemed to be none the wiser yet again.

"But while I'm here, I might as well find out what NEWT grades I can scrape to get a job, just in case plan A doesn't work out." She reached over and rifled through the leaflets.

"Translating with Trolls, Far Eastern Ambassadors, International Law, blimey, you guys do a lot, like, have you been working on the Tetra Tournament?" Ariadne clicked her fingers, "I know your game, Gabby Dagon, getting the inside scoop on the next task, if there is one."

She looked to Johann, who appeared to have the default mental state of clueless. Pity.

The newcomer was browsing the leaflets, looking for anything that caught her eye. Johann waited patiently to see if she'd pick anything out.

"Yes, we've been very much involved in the Tetrawizard Tournament along with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Can't have an international tournament without us being involved somewhere." Johann responded primly to the other girl who had picked up the name of as Ari through the other two interacting.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to comment on tasks - but in four years there'll be another of course, but not necessarily in Britain, but we'll still be involved. You two could be part of that team. Have either of you been picked as champions?" He asked them with curiosity - he didn't recognise the names of either of them from the lists, but it was complimentary wasn't it, to assume the positive?

For a few moments it was as if Gabby didn’t need to be there. Ari informed Johann about the miracles of ice cream and he continued trying to make translating dusty documents sound exciting. They even broached the topic of the tournament. Gabby’s nose wrinkled when the wizard asked the question and she continued to swing her legs back and forth.

“Not my cup of tea.” The Gryffindor explained as she reached over and took a leaflet from Ari’s grasp. “All that danger and excitement and glory. Who’d want it?” In truth, Gabby had been too chicken to put her name in the goblet. She didn’t like not knowing what to expect and the tournament was all about the scary surprises. But she could root for her favourites and support those that were brave enough. She was happy enough to sit on the side-lines and watch.

She pushed herself off the table and stood up straight, brushing hair back from her face.
“She’s right, though, Johann. Way more people would be in here if you had food.” She grinned at him. “Just a suggestion for next year. Students are easily bought by food.” She turned back to Ari. “You would work for Johann if he fed you wouldn’t you?”