bachata

como la flor

Como la flor

(Like the flower)

Con tanto amor

(With so much love)

Me diste tú

(You gave to me)

Se marchitó

(It withered)

Me marcho hoy, yo sé perder

(I leave today, I know I lost)

Pero, a-a-ay, cómo me duele

(But, o-o-oh, how it hurts me)

A-a-ay, cómo me duele

(O-o-oh, how it hurts me)

-Selena

———

“THE ALPHABET?” POTTER ASKED INCREDULOUSLY.

“I said we’d start at the beginning. That’s the beginning,” Draco said.

“That’s ridiculous. I already know my alphabet. I don’t need to learn it again.”

“No,” Draco drew out, “you know your English alphabet with the English pronunciations. Learning Spanish is useless if you don’t even know how to pronounce it.”

Potter sighed, but went with it. “Fine,” he said. “Teach away.”

“I’ll start by saying the letter in English, then telling you how it would be pronounced in Spanish. Repeat the Spanish pronunciations to yourself three times so it sticks,” Draco said. “First is A, which we say it like ‘aw,’ but less harsh on the ‘w’ sound.” Draco waited for Potter to repeat it three times before continuing. “Then B, which is said like ‘beh.’ C is pronounced like ‘seh.’ D is ‘deh.’ E is ‘eh.’ F is said like ‘ehf-eh.’ G is a little strange sounding. It’s essentially like ‘heh,’ but there’s a hint of what sounds like a ‘j.’” 

Potter struggled a little trying to grasp that one, but eventually he got it. Draco continued.

“H is said like ‘ah-cheh,’ almost like a sneeze. I is said like ‘ee,’ J is said like ‘hoh-tah,’ and K is said like ‘kah.’” Draco paused. “Maybe repeat ‘K’ only two times instead of three. We don’t need to be culturally insensitive.”

“L is like ‘eh-leh,’ then the weird one is the one with the two L’s. That’s pronounced like ‘ey-eh.’ M is ‘eh-meh,’ N is ‘eh-neh.’ The other weird one — the ‘n’ with the squiggly line is an ‘ñ’ (‘eh-nyeh’) which sounds like the ‘ny’ in canyon when used in a word. O is ‘oh,’ P is ‘peh,’ Q is like ‘coo,’ the sound pigeons make, R is ‘eh-reh,’ S is ‘eh-seh,’ T is ‘teh,’ U is like ‘ooh,’ and V is ‘veh.’”

Draco waited again, and tapped his chin. “The next three are a little different,” he said. “W is said like ‘doh-bleh-veh.’ Doble V quite literally means ‘double v,’ which is what the letter sort of looks like. X is said like ‘eh-keys,’ Y is said like ‘ee-gree-ey-gah,’ and Z is ‘seh-tah.’”

They ran through the alphabet and pronunciations a few more times, and Draco nodded when he felt satisfied with his teaching. 

“That’s all?” Potter frowned. “I’m only learning the alphabet?”

“If I teach you anymore,” Draco sneered, “your three brain cells might drain out of your ears. Practice what you’ve learned today, and I’ll quiz you on it tomorrow. Once you’ve perfected something, we can move on.”

“Fine,” Potter sighed, and he put the gag back on Draco before walking off, quietly repeating the alphabet to himself.

*****

It took Potter about two more days to finally get the alphabet down, but he finally got to the point where he sounded like a natural, so Draco decided that it was a good point to move on.

It was dark outside, perhaps the middle of the night, when Draco said, “Let’s go outside.”

“Yeah, right,” Potter scoffed indignantly. “I may not be the brightest star in the galaxy, but I’m not about to just let you run free.”

“Clearly you’re not the brightest star in the galaxy, because if you were, you would know that even if I did run, it’s not like I’d get very far. I have no supplies, no idea where I am, and you’ve stolen my wand. I’m better off here.”

“You could call him with your Mark.”

“Wrap it then,” Draco said smartly, pointing chin upward. “Tie it, twist it behind my back, cut it off, I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t care if I chopped your arm off?”

Draco scowled. “Pendejo. I’m just saying you have options, you know. Do you want to learn more or not?”

Potter huffed, then gave in. “Alright. You win. I’ll wrap it. But trust me on this, one wrong move and it’ll be your last, understood?”

Draco shrugged, and Potter disappeared for a moment, then came back with what looked like gauze, which he proceeded to wrap around undid the chains around his wrists and ankles.

The chains fell to the floor. For the first time in what seemed like eons, Draco spread his arms and kicked out his legs. He never before realized how absolutely wonderful it felt to stretch until that moment. He grabbed onto the post behind him and inched his way up, slowly rising up on his wobbly legs. 

His legs had finally straightened out, and Draco decided to take the plunge and try to shift his weight on them. The only times he had stood up before Potter unchained him were when one of the three had grabbed him by the armpit uncomfortably and dragged him to the makeshift bathroom. They had all had the decency to at the very least turn their backs while Draco did his business, but he hadn’t waddled there completely without aid, his ankles were bound loosely, and he still had one arm tied behind his back. 

Draco was able to keep himself up for a moment, but then his left knee buckled and he pitched forward on his right leg. He flailed his arms wildly and almost face planted, but Potter threw out an arm to catch him before he hit the ground. 

Draco clung onto Potter for a moment or two before testing his luck and letting go. He wobbled a bit, and Potter attempted to help, but Draco waved him off. He didn’t need Saint Potter helping Draco like he was some kind of charity case.

Draco walked outside the tent, and he went to the campfire and sat on one of the logs around it. 

“Hermione and Ron are asleep; I’m on the first watch,” Potter said, and Draco just nodded, unsure of how to respond.

“Estar and ser. We’ll start with that,” Draco said quietly.

*****

“Estamos afuera,” Potter said confidently. “Soy bajo. Eres alto.”

We are outside, I am short, you are tall. Draco nodded.

“Good. I think you’ve got the gist of it. Your conjugation has certainly improved.”

Potter beamed, looking very pleased with himself. His accent improved tenfold with just an hour of practice, and the few things he knew, he sounded like a natural.

Not that Draco would ever admit it, though, since he wanted to keep Scarhead on his toes. If there was anything Draco learned from his parents, criticism was a bigger driving force for improvement rather than sappy compliments. 

“What else will I learn?” Potter asked eagerly.

“Nothing else tonight. Practice what you’ve learned before we continue. I’m tired.”

Potter sighed, then took Draco back and bound him again.

“Good night,” Potter said.

“Buenas noches,” Draco responded, then Potter put the gag back on and left.

Draco pondered. Maybe Potter wasn’t that idiotic.

He scoffed (or something along those lines, it was a bit hard with the gag). This whole ‘teaching’ ordeal was better than staring at the front of the red tent all day. It wasn’t exactly fun, though. 

But Draco did have to admit, Potter was certainly a natural. Most people picked up a third of what Potter did with triple the time. Not to mention, his accent was flawless once he got the hang of it. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have another person to speak Spanish with… the only people he was able to do that with was his mother and Bellatrix.

Circe, Draco was going soft.