Besides his laughter and his joyous heart, there was something else Zayn really adored about Harry. The seventeen year old was charming in his own way.

Harry always danced to the theme songs of his cartoons and sometimes wanted Zayn to join in. He'd even pull Zayn off the couch without asking just to do it. He could read just a little bit too, so sometimes he got his learning cards out and would play made up games by himself with those before Zayn decided to be serious and use them to help him learn a lot of new things that he hadn't ever learned before. He never once complained.

Harry also liked forts. He told Zayn that his mother helped him build them a few times before and that he wanted to make another one. So there was one night when they went taking the pillows off the living room couch and off of his bed and ran into his bedroom to build one with his sheets and comforters. Nana was never pleased, but Zayn didn't care. Harry was happy and that was all that mattered.

Zayn really liked Harry's mother. She was sweet. But what he didn't like was that she was responsible for teaching him from home yet was never there. Since she didn't let Harry go to public school, he thought she should have hired a tutor to come teach him. But he also knew that was never going to happen. If she always claimed any part outside of the house was dangerous, surely she wouldn't bring any part of outside inside. He himself was barely allowed here. So he felt it was his responsibly. He felt it was his responsibility to secretly teach Harry.

So he did.

He went out and bought brand new learning cards and he always made sure Harry watched educational cartoons. Dora the Explorer became his favorite and his favorite character was Boots. There was just something about a monkey in boots that made him laugh uncontrollably.

"Monkeys don't wear boots, silly!" He'd say before giggling and no matter how many times Zayn had heard that phrase, he laughed right along with him.

Still though, after all that, Zayn's favorite part of the day was when he'd stay for dinner and after eating with the family, he and Harry would crawl into Harry's bed and lie out, just looking at the ceiling. Sometimes Harry liked to ask Zayn to tell him stories and whenever Zayn agreed, he listened intently without interruption. Occasionally Harry was so tired from a full day of learning and playing, that he would fall asleep and that was when Zayn carefully got out of bed and left for the night.

Whenever Harry was awakened by his mother or Nana sometime later in the night so that he could change into his pajamas, Harry would always feel sad. He didn't like when he left like that. He wanted to always be able to say goodbye first.

Just in case Zayn never came back again.

*

*

*

But Harry had nothing worry about. Zayn would never just leave him like that. No, he had grown too fond of him. He had come to love spending time with him. So much so that his parents began to worry.

"Zayn." His mother said one day when he was just about to leave out for work. By now they knew all about Harry. They already had the pleasure of meeting him a couple times when Zayn managed to pick a day in his mummy and Nana's absence to sneak him out of the house.

"Yes, mum?"

"Come sit down for a moment."

He did.

"We're beginning to worry about you and your social wellbeing. When you're not at home or at work, you're always with Harry. I hope you don't feel an obligation to him. You don't always have to be there. Even if you do feel a bit... Sorry for him."

He smiled and shrugged. "I don't feel sorry for him. Why would I? He's happier than I am most days."

His dad had been standing at the counter trying to drink down a cup of coffee. "We don't mean to be judgmental but... We think maybe you're spending a little bit too much time with him. You met him at the beginning of last year and since then, he's the only person you've befriended. You don't really spend much of your social time with actual normal people anymore and I feel as though you're starting to forget that he's just not."

Zayn frowned. "What is normal even supposed to be? What makes him not normal?"

His parents looked between each other. "Well see-"

"The fact that he has a mental disability? That he's a little bit slower than most? Cause he's got the heart of a kid?" He stood up. "No. None of that makes him abnormal. It just makes him different and hell of a lot special cause he's in a position to teach people how to see the world differently and show us how to appreciate what we have. And you know what? Maybe none of us are as normal as we think we are. Maybe we're just used to being so damn boring, that we ostracize anybody who is lucky enough not to be as miserable as we are!"

That day, Zayn stormed out of the house and went to work with a lot of things on his mind. He knew that his parents meant no harm and were only saying what they thought was best. But he didn't like it. It made him so angry. He thought they were better than that. Weren't they?

Of course they were. Because when he returned home that night, his parents sat him down once more for a talk. This time it was to apologize. After forgiving him for cursing at them and then looking at things from the point of view that Zayn saw them, they really understood where he was coming from. They understood how much Zayn really liked to be around Harry and promised to never interfere with that again.

Zayn was only 18 at the time. But it was comforting to know they had successfully raised a son who was impartial to all.

*****

By the way, Zayn's thoughts about normality are how I actually feel. Which is why when I write "normal" in a story as to describe someone, I usually put it in quotations or in italics.