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Harry met Ron Weasley three weeks after meeting Andre and his daughter, only two months out from turning nine. Ron Weasley was taller than him by four inches and had a wide grin and freckles and for a hot second, Harry thought he was in love.
“Hiya, you must be Harry!” Ron chirped, holding out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry nodded and shook his hand, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “Why are you giving me that look?”
“How do you have so many freckles? Leo only has twenty-seven.” Harry asked, leading them over to the couch before plopping down onto it.
Ron sat down beside him, patting his own face, as if to feel his freckles, before turning to Harry. “How do you have such dark skin?”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “Touchè, Ron, touchè.” He waited a beat. “My born dad’s side of the family is from the middle-east.”
“Where’s that?”
Harry tilted his head, “You don’t know where the middle-east is?”
“No.”
Harry jumped up, ran to his room, grabbed the globe, then quickly sat down next to Ron and began explaining where the middle-east was and why it was different to the rest of the world. “...So this area’s also pre- pre-dom- er….mostly Muslim, like me. Bu’ it’s real close to where dad’s family is from which is,” he pointed at the tiny little country next to Jordan, “Jerusalem, where the population’s mostly Jewish. Because they’re Jewish and the rest of the area is Muslim, they don’t really like each other.”
“Why?” Ron asked, pointing at Jerusalem. “It’s part of the middle-east like, in location, but…Why do the religions differ?”
Harry wracked his brain for the answer. “First, they ori- originated from the same area, same family, and same god. But they begin to differ after that, cause, ya’ see, in the Muslim faith, we believe that Muhammad is the prophet that had spread the word of God, or as we call Him, Allah, and in the Jewish faith, they believe that Moses is the true prophet to spread the word of God. There’s a lot of other stuff too, like, in the Muslim faith, we have the Four Pillars, but in the Jewish, there’s the Ten Commandments, you understand?”
Ron’s face looked red from concentration. “And they don’t like each other because they believe in different ways of believing in the same god?”
"I think so." Harry nodded, “I don’t get it either.”
“Huh.” There was a beat of silence. “You have any food?”
“Cookies.”
And that was the end of that.
--
“This is a phone,” Harry said, wearily giving Ron his old phone since Moo- er, dad wanted him to have a newer phone to blend in better with the muggles, so he could give the old one to his friend. “You are not to let your dad touch it. You are not to let it be used within five feet of active magic. And you are to thank my dad for this, right?”
“Right.” Ron stared at the device in his hands. “I have no idea how to use this.”
Harry looked up to the sky, sighed, then sat down next to Ron and explained the new thing to him for the sixth week in a row. He...he didn’t mind teaching, really, it was kind of fun. It was just Ron had the attention span of a nat unless it had to do with politics or philosophy, both of which, Harry really didn’t have much of a basis on. He’d have to read up on it.
--
ronnie: hey is this workinf
harry: yes
ronnie: sweet
harry: ….ron you realize you just sent a photo of ur sister
ronnie: no but isn’t she so small and adorable
harry: totally.
--
Harry looked over to his dad, who was rubbing, yet again, his exasperated scar. “What happened?”
His dad looked over at him, sat in usual spot on the couch, with the super light reading of ancient Greek philosophy. “Andre.”
“I thought you liked Andre.”
“I do.”
“Are you going to marry him?” Harry asked oh-so-innocently.
His dad choked on his spit. “No, no, no! Not yet, at least. He was wondering if you were old enough to babysit Carla.”
“Yes.”
His dad did the little thing, the tilting his head to the side with narrowed eyes when he was trying to understand the true intention behind something. “You just turned nine. You still need a babysitter.”
“No, I don’t, you like Bill to be here because it makes you feel better, I’m just, yanno,” Harry motioned to his book. “Here. I can make my own food. Bathe myself. Tuck myself into bed. Read. I can do the same to Carla.”
“...You get to pick a Weasley other than Ginny to help you then.”
“Ron.”
“I was worried you were going to say that.” Remus sighed, then picked up the note he had gotten from his boyfriend. “You’ll be paid eight pounds per hour. We’ll be gone for three hours. You’ll split your money with Ron.”
“Ron doesn’t understand muggle money.”
“Explain it to him, you junior professor.”
--
Carla was a bright eyed Spanish girl in the spitting image of her father and she adored Harry. Harry also adored her, so it worked.
“‘Arry, can we play royalty?” She asked, holding up two crowns for them. “You can be the king and Ron can be the knight and I’ll be the princess and we can fight off a dragon.”
Harry grinned, taking one of the crowns. “That sounds lovely.” He put the crown atop his head as Ron gaped. “Ron’s a fierce warrior, and you’re a regal young lady, but why me the king?”
Carla tilted her head, letting dark brown curls slide across her shoulders. “You understand the big picture and move in- in….reaction? I dunno. That’s wha’ my papa said, so….I think you are good with understanding people, which is why you are the king in my story. But I dunno. Maybe Ron will be king next time because he is better than you.”
Harry nodded, taking the crown from Carla’s hands and putting it on her head, ruffling her hair out so she looked like a true and well princess. “Spoken like a true heir to the throne.” He turned to Ron, picking up the fake sword. “My liege?”
Ron was red in the face, gaping. “I’m not gonna play princess!”
“We’re playing royalty, not princess,” Harry insisted. “And you always want to be the knight when you play with your brothers, now you get to be one! Come on, Ron, live a little!”
With a grumble, Ron took the sword.
--
An hour later, Carla stood atop the couch and declared, “New Rules! Ron is the king! Harry is the royal advisor! I am the knight!”
Harry took off his crown and knelt in front of Ron. “I bequeath you the crown!”
“What?” Ron asked, taking the crown anyway.
“It’s- don’t worry about it. Hard to explain.”
“Royal advisor,” Carla acknowledged, jumping off of the couch, a scarf in her hands. “Use this to uh, show that you’re a-a -a royal! But not like, a crown royal. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harry took the scarf and draped it over himself. “What’s your reasoning for the switch?”
Carla shrugged, taking the sword from Ron. “Ron said he’s good at chess, beat his whole family, and that’s playing at-- at your strengths, showing the strength of a king! And when he makes an un- un- dumb claim, like, like when he thought to use magic against a more powerful magic animal, you stopped him and explained a better way to do it! And you teach us stuff all the time and I think a royal advisor has to be as smart or smarter than the king! And being a princess is cool but there’s not any action and I wanna fight! Someday I’m gonna join the royal navy!”
Harry beamed. “Brilliant explanation. But before we get on with the game again, are the king and knight hungry?”
“Starved,” Ron groaned.
--
Harry woke up to laughter. He blinked blearily at his dad and Andre. “W’a’s’ap?”
His dad simply pointed back at him. Harry looked down. Ron had his head on Harry’s shoulder, Carla was completely laying atop him, softly snoring. He looked back up at his dad. “Don’t move them.” His eyes went wide. “They’re adorable.”
“We know,” Andre agreed.
--
“Why am I getting paid for twelve hours?” Harry asked Andre. “I should only have a fourth of this.”
Andre laughed and waved him off. “You spent all night as Carla’s teddy bear, you deserve it. I got Ron some magical money anyhow, so this is for you and your books.”
Harry looked at the money in his hand, then over at Ron and Carla who were still soundly sleeping on his bed. Then back at the money. Then at Andre. “Will I get to babysit her again?”
“I think she’ll protest to anything else.” Andre’s smile was warm and a lot like his teacher, Ms. Kelly. She always seemed to follow what Harry was thinking, even if no one else in the class did.
“Then I’ll use half of it to get her more toys to play with while she’s here, so she doesn’t have to tote her stuff back and forth. And then I’ll use a quarter for books and….I’ll save the rest.”
“Your dad’s taught you well, kid,” then, true to Andre’s entire personality, he ruffled Harry’s already messy hair. “But you really don’t have to spend money on Carla.”
“But she’s my friend.” Andre looked over at his dad, who had an unreadable smile on his face.
--
“What house do’ya think you’re gonna be in, Harry?” Ron asked once Andre and Carla left, Remus off writing the outline for his new book.
Harry looked up from his phone, where he was searching for gifts for Carla. “Uh, I dunno. I mean, probably Gryffindor, because my whole family was in Gryffindor. But. Maybe Slytherin, or Ravenclaw. I doubt Hufflepuff.”
Ron’s face went red again, he sputtered out a, “You-know-who was from Slytherin!”
Harry looked off to the door where his dad was writing behind. “And Sirius Black was from Gryffindor.” He turned to his friend. “And what are the Jewish to the Muslim?”
Ron rubbed the back of his neck. “Huh.”
--
(“You didn’t really leave them alone, did you?” Remus asked Andre nervously.
“Of course not, I had your friend Arthur do paperwork at the desk in your room. They were fine anyhow, Remus, you worry too much.”
“He’s eight.”
“And he’s more mature than I was at thirteen.”)