The alphabet

It was a usual sunny day, the kind that often comes in summer. Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains and faded on the warm brown floor. James, sitting next to Harry at the dinner table, tried to be the best teacher in the world. That wasn’t so difficult, by the way, since he was the only teacher Harry had ever had. Harry was six. He was a very curious child. That’s why any distraction could be catastrophic when it was time to learn something new. A bird singing outside? He wanted to see. The wind shaking a little tree? He wanted to see. A rainbow crossing the sky? He definitely wanted to see. So James did everything he could to keep Harry from being distracted. He found the most beautiful pictures and some glittery letters, which he hoped would make Harry want to learn the alphabet. For the past hour, he had been showing Harry a little picture of an eagle and kept repeating the sound of the letter “e.” But Harry refused to pronounce it. He made faces and laughed, jumped on the chair and slapped the table, grabbed another card with a different letter, but still didn’t even try to say “e.” “Harry,” James looked at his son. “Let’s make a deal. You say the sound, and I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream. Extra chocolate.” Harry blinked. A wide smile spread across his face. He nodded and took a deep breath, as if he were about to dive underwater. He grabbed the card from his dad’s hand and glanced at it. Then his lips shaped strangely, and a sound similar to “e” finally broke free. Just as James was ready to sigh with relief, Harry stretched it into “eagle” again. “Fuck!” James groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. He was tired. He was exhausted. He didn’t even know what to do to make Harry remember the letter instead of the word. “How’s it going?” Regulus asked, walking into the kitchen. He had a book in his hand and went straight to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Daddy promised to buy me extra-chocolate ice cream!” Harry said excitedly. “Ice cream?” Regulus looked at Harry with the happiest expression. “Would you share it with me?” “Of course!” Harry yelled. Then he turned to James. “Can Reggie come with us to eat ice cream?” “Sure,” James said — and in the next moment he realized this was his chance to make Harry learn one more letter. “But first, you should tell me what letter this is.” He picked up the next card with a glittery “F.” The card showed flowers of different sizes, shapes, and colors. Regulus stood by the fridge, waiting. Harry frowned. He stared at the card, looking as if he had no idea what it was — as if he had never seen any flowers before, not even the ones growing in their garden. “Tell me, Haz,” James said warmly. “I know you can do it before the ice cream shop closes.” Harry narrowed his eyes. He bit his lip, glanced first at Regulus, then back at his father and the flower card. James believed in his son and was ready to praise him, but this time he decided not to rush. “F—” Harry began. “—uck,” he finished. And then he repeated it proudly, syllable by syllable. “Fuck.” Regulus burst out laughing. Harry grinned. “Did I do it right?” the boy asked, looking at Regulus. “Will you go with us?” James, sitting there with a stone-faced expression, could only say one word. “Sure.” Harry clapped for himself and jumped on the chair with a triumphant yell.