Yellow.

Like Father, Like Daughter.

Flashback.

Harry is yet to speak, and Anne is still worried.

In the middle of spring, summer approaching, and teenager years blooming in full gear, a growth spurt is not something Anne Cox had expected to receive from her severely autistic son. Not like it wasn't expected, but with the way the doctors, therapists and everyone had maintained puberty would hit him much later than expected, it shocked her.

Freshly sixteen, stretched out and towering over everyone in the house; it makes Anne realise how fast her son is growing and how reality is gently beginning to dawn on them. So many things are supposed to change with his growing self, but as a mother, she is not sure how he is going to handle it and how she is supposed to assist him with every single thing.

It feels beautiful seeing little red dots coming out of his forehead and hearing his groans sound deeper and different. His shoulders are broad but he still has his lean frame. He still blinks a little bit more than usual, still latches onto his mother or sister in public places. His hair is starting to lose that tightly curled pattern and everything is different about Anne's special boy, everything but his speech.

"Harry spoke in my dream," Anne mumbles.

"Mum," Gemma rolls her eyes.

"I'm serious, his voice was deep and calming, my baby spoke to me," Anne sighs.

"I wish it comes true soon enough, Halloween wish," Gemma crosses her fingers.

"Isn't Halloween cursed?" Anne frowns in confusion.

"Right, I will save the wish for Christmas," Gemma smiles, holding her mum close.

The front doors open, shuffling sounds are made along with little groans and a laugh, causing Anne to straighten up and wear her best smile. Gemma focuses on her snack, smiling and waiting to hear Zayn ramble about their day in school. It happens everyday and with a new day, comes a new dose of Harry's adventures.

"Hey Mrs Harry's mum!" Zayn pipes up, carrying two school bags with a smile.

"Zayn, how many times will I -"

"No! I cannot call you by your first name!" Zayn whines, throwing his head back.

Harry is by the entrance, dragging his palm against the wall with a frown and sucking onto his bottom lip with an icy blank look. He is blinking to himself, still remembering how his teacher assisted him with his lovely drawing today and how nice she was when he was confused with the colours. He was grateful, especially to Zayn, who had his back when laughed at.

"How was school? By the way, Des is around," Anne smiles, hoping her son hears her.

"School was fun. Harry had a rough afternoon though," Zayn sighs.

"What happened?" Gemma frowns.

"Idiots laughed at him, again." Zayn frowns in offence.

Anne feels her heart almost fall against the floor, it is becoming a bit too common how his classmates laugh and mock him because of his condition. There is really no way to stop them, because Harry seems to be enjoying having normal classes with so called normal kids. It is getting too much and it is affecting his self esteem with every laugh or joke.

"Names and addresses, I just want to fight...talk!" Gemma folds her arms.

"There will be no need for fights or talks," Anne sighs, staring at her son.