Translating Mad Things People Do

Part III in the Translation Series
Translating Mad things People do: A Conclusion

“Harry, don’t do it, please don’t do it!” Hermione said in anguished tones as the end of class sounded at the ring of a bell.

Harry looked unhinged as Hermione resolutely tugged on his shirt, unwilling to let him go on with his plan. Harry pulled away from her grasp as Hermione opened her mouth once more.

“Give it a rest, okay? He can make up his own mind,” said Ron from the corner of his mouth.

“Ron, we’re his friends!” she said as Ron took her aside.

“Listen, Hermione,” Ron started, but was cut short by the unmistakable sounds of a diversion going off in the distance.

“Harry - please!” said Hermione weakly as Harry dashed in the direction of Umbridge’s office. But her pleads were in vain as he continued determinedly towards the west wing, knocking a frantic looking Hannah Abbott off her feet.

In tears, Hannah quickly stood and approached Ron and Hermione with her usual distraught manner.

“Swamp...” she uttered breathlessly, “...the inquisitorial squad...I -” but it appeared that Hannah couldn’t take it anymore. Beyond all reason, she collapsed into an oddly stressful sleep on the floor.

Hermione gave Ron a dark look and continued on her way to the east wing.

“This is all your fault, you know,” she said, as Ron hurried to catch up with her.

“How’s it my fault?” Ron demanded, passing a group of fourth year Ravenclaws trying hopelessly to remove brown goo from their perfectly braided hair.

“You’re his best friend! Best friends warn each other when they’re about to do something stupid, not to mention illegal! They also,” Hermione continued as they turned the corner, “stand up for their other best friend when she’s trying desperately to save that friend from a load of trouble!”

“Come on, Hermione, I wouldn’t be able to stop him anymore than you could.”

“Harry listens to you, Ron, weather you’re smart enough to notice it or not!”

“You should write a book,” Ron muttered, but immediately stopped himself at the look on Hermione’s face.

The two walked on, oblivious to the chaos around them, remembering all too well the last time Ron had uttered that phrase.

They reached the east wing in silence, though they were the only one’s in such a state. It appeared that Fred and George had somehow moved an entire swamp onto the fifth floor, how they had done it, no one could comprehend.

The school was in utter confusion, not helped along by Peeves, the poltergeist, who was throwing mud at horror-stricken first-years.

Water was everywhere, small marshes were in bunches on the stairs, and tiny Dennis Creevey was hanging from a chandelier trying desperately to swing away from an alligator snapping it’s jaws with vehemence from the floor below.

“Oh my!” Hermione gasped as she immediately drew out her wand. “IMPEDIMENTA!”

“Nice one,” said Ron, examining the stunned alligator. Hermione gave Ron another disapproving look. “Oh, I suppose you’re going to blame all of this on me as well?”

“I never said that!” said Hermione, helping Dennis Creevey down from the ceiling.

“You thought it,” Ron muttered.

Hermione frowned as they continued along the corridor, being interrupted only once by Lee Jordan who had set off a firework in the middle of the swamp, causing mud to plaster the walls.

“I tried to urge Fred and George early on that this type of behavior would only get them expelled,” Hermione ranted once more as she removed swamp water from her ear. “And with Dumbledore gone, I don’t think it’s a good idea to transform half the school into marshlands.”

“Umbridge deserves it though,” Ron grunted, passing a dazed-looking Luna, who vaguely stated that swamps were the best places to look for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

“I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, I’m just saying that Fred and George should be more careful. If they go on like this, detention will be the least of their problems and I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up in Azkaban.”

“Come on Hermione, Fred and George have been doing stuff like this for ages. I doubt they’re going to be sent to Azkaban.” said Ron, in a tone that told Hermione he was ready to start another argument.

“It’s not because you disagree, it’s because arguing is just so dang fun, right?” said Hermione, but caught herself at the rising of Ron’s eyebrows.

“Where did you hear that?” he asked quizzically. Hermione flushed and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a large glob of mud hitting her squarely in the back of the head.

She turned around in time to glimpse Peeves cackling and throwing more mud at a first-year Hufflepuff who, in the surprise of the moment, was knocked into a nearby puddle.

“I’ll go this way, you get everyone back to the common room,” said Hermione, heading in the direction of Peeves, who was now swimming in the large puddles, splashing mud in all directions with each stroke.

Ron drew out his wand, not knowing in the slightest how to bring order to the moment.

He had finally decided to go follow Hermione so as to pretend he was acting authoritatively, when someone tapped him on his back.

“Hermione dropped this, you know,” said Luna, her eyes starring at Ron’s prefect badge in wonderment, as if it were more interesting than a swamp in the middle of a school corridor.

“Oh,” said Ron offhandedly, grabbing the folded parchment Luna held out to him. He then hurried to catch up with Hermione.

“You dropped these,” said Ron, handing the parchment to Hermione, who was ordering a few Gryffindors to follow her back to the common room.

Hermione opened the parchment and immediately closed it as she saw what it was. However, Ron had been eyeing it and had noticed that it was in his hand writing.

“Hey, that’s mine,” he said, trying to get a better look at what it was. Ron looked bemused when Hermione turned a deep shade of scarlet and admitted that they were his History of Magic notes.

“No wonder I’ve been doing so bad in the subject; you’ve had my notes all along,” said Ron, taking the notes from Hermione, who reluctantly gave them up.

Hastily, Ron placed them back in his bag and ordered a few midgets behind him to shut up and walk faster.

The thought came to Ron suddenly, but when it did come, it caused his heart to skip a few beats and his stomach to groan. For Ron remembered something he had written while bored in History of Magic one day. He had written it because, for perhaps the first time, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep in the class.

Frantically, he took out the parchment and examined it. If Hermione had it, if she had read it....

However, with a great sigh of relief, he discovered that his manuel wasn’t there, nor was the letter (which he had crossed out, sworn never to give to Hermione, and was on his list of things to burn when he had the time).

Ron continued back to the common room, but groaned when Hermione told him they had to head back to the fifth floor.

Ron followed Hermione in silence, only half listening to her worries about Harry.

“And Harry hasn’t got much time to get back to her office...”

“Uh-huh.”

“If he is caught, it will have been for a stupid reason...”

“Yep.”

“Umbridge is bound to discover that someone’s been using her fireplace.”

“Hermione, why did you have my History of Magic notes?” Ron interrupted as they once again entered the swamp infested area.

Hermione didn’t answer the question and told him that he better tell Lee Jordan to stop blowing things up in the middle of the school’s hall.

“So you can borrow my notes but I can’t borrow yours; is that it?” said Ron, completely ignoring her command.

Hermione turned to Ron, an annoyed expression on her face that clearly said there were more important things to do at the moment than argue about History of Magic.

“It’s not as if you actually write notes in history of magic, Ron. Besides, you’re not dumber than a flobberworm, you can take notes yourself!”

Ron was taken aback. It wasn’t like Hermione to use expressions such as “dumber than a flobberworm”. It was more like him, in fact.

It has recently come to my attention that certain girls think that guys are dumber than flobberworms....

But she couldn’t have read his manuel, Ron told himself. He would know if she had read it. He wasn’t stupid, after all.

But what if she had, a nastily voice in the back of Ron’s head told him. Furthermore, what if she had read the letter he had written to her. Hermione wasn’t stupid, Ron knew she would have been able to figure out what it meant.

“I should have never told her to write that book,” Ron thought, as he stood in the middle of the chaos, debating with himself on weather Hermione had actually read the entire contents of his History of Magic notes.

Starring with his mouth slightly open, Ron hardly noticed that he was now standing in a mostly deserted corridor. Hermione and Luna, it seemed, were the only ones left behind. Hermione of which, was now beckoning Ron forward.

“Uh, Hermione,” said Ron, as he followed her towards the entrance hall, “you haven’t come across any parchment of mine with a lot of crossed out writing have you? Because if you have...”

“Ron,” said Hermione, as she stopped in her tracks annoyed, yet with a definite smile on her face, “I have absolutely, positively no idea what you’re talking about but,” she continued, a mysterious tone in her voice, “I’m sure that guy you know will solve his dilemma soon enough.”

With that, Hermione continued on her way to the entrance hall. Ron stood behind, a memory sparked by what she had just said.

Maybe this guy I know likes a girl as more than a friend. He doesn’t know how to tell her this because they’ve been friends for a really long time and it might be really....

She hadn’t read it, Ron thought more to assure himself than anything. She couldn’t have....

Hermione stood, mixed in with the mounds of students covered in mud, surrounding a cornered Fred and George.

She smiled as she remembered the bemused look on Ron’s face as she had told him what she had wanted to say for weeks. Glad, for the first time that she had written a book called Translating Mad Things Girls do so Boys can Understand Them, Hermione reached into the pocket of her bag where she kept the letter hidden. She was surprised to find, however, that it wasn’t there.

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. Ron couldn’t have the letter. Furthermore, he was too ignorant to figure out that she had read it. But, Hermione thought, if she didn’t have it, and he didn’t have it, who did?....

Luna Lovegood starred at the piece of parchment, transfixed by the poetic language of Ronald Weasley. Ignoring Fred and George, who were now soaring out the window, Luna pocketed the letter.

Hermione Granger sure was lucky, she thought.