Heinrich liked the MARS rooms. Specifically, he liked the portraits. They were the only other ‘people’ at the school who could speak German like a native. So even if the rooms claimed they were dedicated to sports or music or water or art, he mostly came to talk to the portrait in his native tongue. Sometimes, when he was very angry at the English language, German was the only language it could speak. Other times, he found bilingual portraits who could patiently help him work through learning some technical conversations in English, but could switch to German to explain things if he wasn’t getting it.
Today, he was in the sports room, with a bilingual portrait. The topic was nominally about Quidditch, and Heinrich was hovering near the portrait’a picture frame on a broom the room had provided for him, but the conversation was actually about English grammar, which he kind of doubted was a topic most Sports room portraits engaged in regularly.
“I understand not the difference,” Heinrich complained irritably. “In Deutsch, these are same word.”
“In German.” The portrait - who had introduced himself only as ‘Coach’ - corrected. “You do not understand the difference. They are the same word.”
Heinrich doubted there was actually steam coming out of his ears, but he thought he might soon be reaching that point. “I do not understand,” he repeated in clipped angry tones. “They are the same word in German.”
“Better,” Coach said with a pleased nod of approval. He might as good an English coach as he was a Quidditch one. Heinrich couldn’t say for sure though. They weren’t getting much Quidditch coaching in around the English coaching. Which, annoyed as Heinrich was, was actually just fine with him. He needed help with his English much more than he needed help with Quidditch. And this was far more effective that staring at another English grammar book.
To be totally honest, he’d come in here today with no real preference on what the sport should be. He had come in expecting only to receive some exercise and English lessons.
Coach just had a really annoying way of going about them.
“To walk,” he explained slowly, “is on your feet. To go just means to move somewhere. So if I say ‘walk to the goal,’ I mean get off the broom and put one foot in front of the other until you get there. If I say ‘run to the goal’, that is like joggen. You go fast on your feet. If I say ‘go to the goal’ that just means move there by any means. ‘Race to the goal’ is go fast. ‘Fly to the goal’ would be specifically on your broom.”
Heinrich listened intently, his earlier irritation lessening now that his question was being answered. It was difficult to follow, because most of the verbs Coach was saying just made him think ‘gehen’.
Coach seemed to get that. “Walking is like zu Fuß gehen,” he tried again. “English speakers only use ‘walk’ when they mean zu Fuß gehen. Go is more like the gehen you are thinking.”
“Oh,” Heinrich said, starting to see the difference now. “So I go down and I walk?” he questioned doubtfully as this wasn’t something he considered a part of Quidditch.
Coach frowned. “‘I get down and walk,’” he corrected.
“I get down and walk,” Heinrich repeated, setting actions to words while shooting the paintings looks of uncertainty.
Coach nodded and smiled. “Good.” Once Heinrich reached the goal post, the man in the portrait called out, “Now run back. Warm up those muscles!”
Having done so, Coach instructed, “Now get on your broom again and fly to the goal and back.” Coach tilted his head as if to ask if that hat been understood clearly enough.
Heinrich nodded and remounted his broom, but before he got moving, the door to the room opened an another student walked in. Heinrich glanced uncertainly toward Coach, half afraid anything he said would be harshly critiqued and corrected, yet equally afraid it wouldn’t be now that there was company. He couldn’t improve if he didn’t know what he was doing wrong.
“You like Quidditch?” he ventured. “It is easier to play with more people.” He felt very proud of himself. He was 90% sure he got the grammar right this time.
“Not bad,” Coach said, in a quieter voice than Heinrich had believed him capable of. “‘Do you like Quidditch?’ would be the more widely used form, but yours is understandable.”
Heinrich kind of hated Coach.
OOC: Gehen, according to memrise, means ‘to go, to walk’ so I am assuming this could cause Heinrich some confusion when ‘going’ is not a perfect synonym for ‘walking’.