The second time it happened - Harry just celebrated his 9th birthday. Dahlia gifted him the brand new toy helicopters controlled by a remote control and he's been playing with it any chance he can get.

Dahlia would have to duck around the kitchen while preparing meals or doing dishes so the blades wouldn't get caught up in her hair but she didn't mind dodging around. He liked her gift and has been enjoying it enough to use it all the time.

It was worth the money she spent to be first in line to receive a model when it first released. She of course didn't spend her inheritance money so carelessly, she still needed the funds for Harry's schooling and for - just in case - money for him to inherit.

Just in case something happens to her and Harry would have to be forced back to the Dursley's life, she'd at least have enough money to pass down to him that he won't starve and be as neglected as before.

She's keeping her inheritance money mostly untouched, her Bartender gig surprisingly pays well. But that might just be because her boss likes her. She's not daft, but she does pretend not to know so she can continue reaping the benefits without the commitment.

Her boss is a man at least a decade older than her. He inherited the pub from his old man who was very passionate about alcohol and he's been running it ever since. Dahlia worked for him for a year, then stopped when Harry came into the picture and she came back.

Dahlia could guess that he developed his little crush around her third year into working for him. He's not unattractive but he's also not a looker, Dahlia also didn't fancy him - her type was different.

She can't exactly say she has one - given that you can't control who you fall in love with but she noticed she's taken with men who got along with her previous lifestyle. A bit wild, free and dark.

Back to little Harry and his new toy - Dahlia is here again ducking around her kitchen to avoid the flying toy while Harry giggled holding his remote control. "Careful now, wouldn't want to give me a nasty hair cut."

Dahlia joked and just as she said it, the toy swerved and landed on top of the cupboard above her head, disappearing from view and the faint sound of something landing. Dahlia turned to see Harry gaping at the cupboard above.

"Where did it go?"

"Can you make it fly again?" Dahlia asked, Harry tried pressing buttons, but it wouldn't work.

"No. . ." Harry replied solemnly, his expression beginning to darken.

"Hey, don't worry." Dahlia quickly dried her hands and bent down to smile at him reassuringly. "We'll get it back."

She then began looking around for anything she could use to reach for it without resulting to climbing on her counter and falling in her attempt to retrieve the toy. She turned back to Harry.

"Stay here, I'll go get something to reach the top."

And she walked off to the broom closet, hoping a broom would be long enough to reach or she'd have to go and grab the mop from the back instead and she's unsure if it dried already. When she made it back to the kitchen, Harry is flying his toy again.

"Harry?" Dahlia called out unsure.

"I got it back!" Harry cheered, even flying his plane close to Dahlia who avoided being hit by stepping to the side, narrowing her eyes at it.

"How did you get it back, love?" She asked.

"It just fell. Maybe the wind helped me." Harry shrugged and continued paying attention to his toy, trying to get the toy plane through the round ornaments displayed on the hallway leading out of the kitchen.

"The wind. . ." Dahlia then looked around, seeing all the windows closed. She closed them because a bee had sneaked in yesterday and scared Harry. How could the wind even get inside to help Harry?

Dahlia focused her eyes on top of the cupboard and began letting her mind cloud. She feels as if she's missing something. Like there is something going on that she can't quite understand. 

***

Dahlia's turning 30 today, Harry is 9 and has been doing well in school. He was't the brightest kid in his class but he had satisfactory grades (though Dahlia would never hold it against him if he failed a class or two) and was making great friends.

He's particularly close with Luis from his class, a chubby boy with curly blond hair and a very wide collection of Pokémon cards. Harry had no interest in them but the way he talked about the cards so enthusiastically would always convince the young boy to sit and listen.

So Harry is adjusting well - he thinks Dahlia is the whole world. She's amazing! She's so kind, and pretty and amazing and pretty and kind and - you get it. 

He thinks highly of her and would even go as far as to consider her his parent. He knows how Dahlia feels about being referred to as his Mother. He knew she didn't dislike it for the wrong reasons, but she's the best thing to ever happen to him.

He loved her dearly and so here he is, preparing a birthday gift for her. He had saved up all his lunch money since the school year started to afford the pretty necklace he saw on one of the display windows.

Dahlia never really wore jewellery, she owns a few but never really accessorized. She does wear the usual blings on formal occasions but nothing to wear daily. Harry thought it was a pretty necklace, a black dahlia hanging as the pendant.

Dahlia places the cake down in front of Harry with a grin. Her birthdays were never celebrated as parties, unlike Harry's, she always made an effort to make those extra and lively. She preferred a simple dinner on her birthday every year.

She didn't really care much, it's just growing old and receiving gifts from friends - which she currently doesn't have. 

But this does bring a new question to her head - what now?

She's really reached her 30s without marrying and having kids of her own. Does she even plan to ever marry?

"Happy Birthday, Mum." Harry greeted her, handing her the small box and she felt hesitant to accept it.

She did, holding it in her hands and looking at Harry with a puzzled look on her face. "Harry, I - how did you get this?"

Dahlia opened the lid and gasped at the sight of a beautiful necklace, it wasn't anything too special or sparkly but the fact it came from Harry made it as valuable as gold.

"I saved up all my lunch money," He shrugged and Dahlia was quick to clasp it around her neck. Effortless and quick to then wrap her arms around Harry.

"Oh you shouldn't have." Dahlia cooed. "Really. Having you is a gift enough."

"I knew you'd say that, but it's okay," Harry shrugged against her chest. "The lunch boxes you packed were really good."

Dahlia then pulled away and gave him a solemn look. "About what you called me. . ." She trailed off, unsure if this was the right time for a conversation. 

Dahlia never treated Harry as lesser than her - despite his young age, she respected him and his decisions. She gives him all the options available and hears him out when he has something to say. 

Harry adored that above her, he was never dismissed and in the few times he'd throw tantrums - she'd handle him well enough to turn it into an intervention instead. Not once invalidating his feelings while also putting him in his place.

She may have been doubting herself all this time but she was doing an amazing job. For someone who was never prepared, and perhaps never will be, she was the best. And Harry loved her for it.

"I'm not your Mother, love." Dahlia smiled a small smile. "I have always done my best and I'm glad you feel I was well enough to be your Mum but. . .I'm not. Your mum - she's stunning, she's Lily and she - "

Harry didn't mean to make Dahlia cry on her birthday. 

"I know. My mum sounds incredible and the way you talk about her makes me feel like she could of well have been the Queen - but you're also my Mum. You did everything for me and that won't mean I'm replacing her, I can always have both."

Dahlia breathed out shakily - Harry's often too wise for his age and it scares her. Perhaps she can blame herself for  indulging him with philosophy and poetry books during one of his whims.

"Well, I always did make the point to spoil you."

"And I am incredibly happy to have both."

Dahlia lost to Harry. . .again.

***

The date is July 23rd. An ordinary day like any other, and a week away from Harry's 11th birthday. How the time has passed, Dahlia still worked at the pub against her better judgement and Harry has been remaining the perfect golden child.

"Any special requests for your birthday this year, Harry?" Dahlia asked, arranging the clean towels in Harry's bathroom that she had just replaced. He always forgets.

"I have one!" Harry called out.

Dahlia peeked from the bathroom door to spy him playing on a gameboy, sat on his bed with his legs crossed and an intense glare on his game. 

"Yes?"

"Please let me go on the field trip next school year! All my classmates are going." Harry replied and puts down the game with a groan, assuming he lost whatever game he was playing. "I know you're worried you can't come but I really wanna go."

Dahlia pondered, dirty towels stacked in her arms and gave in with a reluctant sigh. "Okay fine, but you must promise to behave and come back safe."

They seemed like a normal family of two, and perhaps they were - just how her world will turn upside-down when she wakes up tomorrow to a  knock on her door by one Albus Dumbledore.