Barely Functioning, Deeply Loved by krosi
Summary: When six-year-old Harry Potter finds floo powder while cleaning the fireplace, he is accidentally sent over to Severus's Snape's house, where he discovers that Snape is his biological dad, he has a half-sister, and Aunt Petunia has been abusing him all his life. It's almost too much for little Harry to handle. Can Severus help this boy through the traumas he's suffered?
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape, Parental Snape > Godfather Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving, Overly-protective Snape
Genres: Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11)
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Out of Character
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 31 Completed: No Word count: 131786 Read: 47095 Published: 23 Jan 2021 Updated: 20 Mar 2024
A Fiery Situation by krosi

 

               Severus watched the sky for that owl. Tum appeared with the Daily Prophet, and the owl handed over the paper. Severus accepted it and offered Tum an owl treat but he did not move from his spot. He waited for any sign of any other owls as he had taken to doing most mornings. A week had gone by since he had gotten the death threat and there was no news of any advancements on the case. He scanned the sky one last time. He tried not to stay out too long as his kids could cause trouble in a record time of ten seconds.

               Finally, when no other owls appeared, Severus stepped inside and checked on Iris and Harry. They were both eating cereal happily at their seats, their backpacks ready to go. Severus decided he would take his kids to school today as it would be the last time he saw Iris until Sunday night.

               He glanced over the Daily Prophet as he walked to the table and sat down, drinking his coffee while he waited for Harry and Iris to finish eating their breakfast. When they were done, he checked Iris’s small suitcase, making sure she had her toothbrush and pairs of socks, (he wasn’t sure what his daughter had against socks) which he ended up summoning a couple pairs and adding them to her bag. Everything else seemed to be in check, so he sent his kids up to brush their teeth before herding them out the door.

               “If I see Mum now,” Iris asked on the drive to her school, “does that mean I don’t see her next month?”

               “Usually, that’s how it works,” Severus said. “Why do you ask?”

               “I don’t know. What if I want to see her?”

               “That’s up to you, Iris. If you want to see her next month, I’m sure we can arrange something.” Not that Severus wanted Dahlia to have any more time with his daughter than what was required by the court, but Iris did occasionally want to see Dahlia outside of that scheduled time. They were rare moments, to Severus’s relief, and he wanted Iris to feel that she had some control over when she saw her mother too. He couldn’t deny Dahlia the monthly visits, but Iris could always add more in if she wanted to.

               “I was just asking,” Iris said, hugging her red-headed doll to her chest.

               “Make sure you put Honey in your suitcase, okay?” Severus said.

               “Yes, Daddy,” Iris said.

               “And Harry, be on your best behavior today, okay,” Severus said to his son.

               “I’m always on my best behavior,” Harry said.

               “Well, I’d hate to see your worst,” Severus smirked. “Mind your teachers and be kind to your classmates. I believe you have time with your counselor today, too, is that right?”

               “Yes, Daddy,” Harry said. “She has a bunny rabbit. She lets me hold him.”

               “That’s very nice of her,” Severus said, smiling at the image that brought. He pulled up to the school and opened the door for his kids to clamber out. He kissed them both.

               “I’ll miss you Iris,” Severus said. “Be good for your mother, okay?”

               “Okay. Love you, Daddy,” Iris said.

               “I love you, too, Daddy,” Harry said, waving goodbye as he followed Iris down the pathway.

               Severus watched them head inside the school before climbing back in the car. He wished his kids would always be so accepting of his hugs and kisses and “I love you’s.” He wasn’t sure what he’d do when they both became moody, angsty teenagers who found all that stuff embarrassing. He figured he’d have to force the love on them. Severus smiled before driving back to his house.

 

               That afternoon after school, Dahlia drove Iris to her parents’ house in South Kensington, London. They lived in a stunning one-bedroom apartment with high ceiling and ornate features that complimented the eighteen-hundred period decadence. Stepping up the stairs and into the building, Dahlia and Iris were greeted by a massive hall that led them to a reception room and a contemporary open plan kitchen. Iris ran over to the bow window that overlooked the gardens and fountain outside the apartment.

               “There is my grandbaby,” Louise Flater announced as she came around the dining table with arms wide open. She was a slender woman with graying, red hair that was all gathered up on top of her head in a neat updo. She wore an elegant blouse and black skirt, and her heals clicked on the floor.  

               Iris ran to her grandmother and hugged her, earning a squeeze back.

               “How have you been, dearie?” Louise asked as she led Iris to the kitchen.

               “Good, Grandma,” Iris said.

               “Here,” Louise said, handing Iris a small plate and directing her to the dining table. “I made you some shortbread biscuits—you must be famished after such a long drive. Have a seat. Would you like some tea for dunking?”

               “Yes, please, thank you,” Iris said as she hopped up into a chair. She eagerly bit into one of the biscuits while Louise poured her some tea.

               “Oh, what lovely posture you have,” Louise commented. “Ballet must be instilling some good discipline in you.”

               “I like ballet,” Iris said. “It’s fun.”

               “And you Dahlia?” Louise asked, turning her attention to her daughter. “Still working as a . . . what was it? A waitress?”

               Louise looked disgusted at the mere thought.

               “No, Mother,” Dahlia said, trying not sound exasperated. “I quit the job at the Leaky Cauldron a year ago. I told you that. Twice. I’m a Healer receptionist now.”

               Louise hmphed at that.

               “And how long will that last you? Healer—why don’t they just call them doctors? And you could have gone to school to become a doctor, or a nurse, and have a real job, not all that hocus pocus nonsense. We could still pay for your college if you reconsider.”

               “Mother, please, I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

               “I just don’t understand how such a supposedly gifted school could leave you so behind in your social status. You had such promise when you were Iris’s age, now look at you. I suppose a mother can only do so much.”

               “Mother, I’m fine. I like my job.”              

               “Well, if you must keep it, at least marry someone who can support you when you inevitably lose it. I hear you are still dating that doctor. My apologies, the healer. I’m sure he must be paid well.”

               “It doesn’t matter what he’s paid. I like him for who he is.”

               “Oh, don’t be so shallow,” Louise said, shaking her head. “Of course, it’s not all about the money, but it certainly helps to know.”

               “Dahlia!” a tall, heavyset man announced as he stepped into the room, a full beard upon his face. He kissed his daughter’s cheek.

               “Hey, Daddy,” Dahlia greeted, hugging her father, Charles Flater.

               “And who’s this?” Charles asked as he walked over to Iris, pretending to adjust his glasses. “Dahlia? Did you shrink? What happened to you?”

               Iris laughed as Charles tickled her.

               “No, Grandpa,” Iris said between fits of giggles, “it’s me. Iris.”

               “Oh, that makes so much more sense,” Charles said before landing a quick kiss on Iris’s cheek. “How are you, Iris? Look at you, growing up so fast. I think you were yay high when I last saw you.”

               “I’m six now,” Iris said.

               Charles clutched at his chest as if in shock.

               “Six!? How is that possible?”

               “I grow every day, Grandpa.” Iris said.

               “A strange phenomenon,” Charles patted Iris’s head before looking back at his daughter. “How have you been, sweetie? That healer treating you well still?”

               “Of course, Daddy, he’s been very good to me. Actually, I wanted to ask you and Mother if . . ..”

               A phone rang loudly through the house.

               “Hold that thought, darling,” Charles said before moving quickly to answer the phone.

               “Of course,” Dahlia muttered, forcing a smile at the ground while Charles answered the phone enthusiastically, striking up a business conversation that was sure to take longer than a half hour. Dahlia sighed and looked up at her mother, who was fawning over Iris as she poured more tea for her.

               “Mother, Jason asked me to meet with him at the hospital this evening, and I was wondering if you could watch Iris for me while I run out.”

               “Absolutely not,” Louise said, frowning at her daughter. “I did my due diligence child rearing and look where that got me. My job is to spoil the grandchild, not raise her. Take her with you.”

               “I thought you and Dad wanted to see Iris?” Dahlia asked, giving her mother an annoyed look.

               “We did. And now we have. She’s doing marvelous despite where she’s coming from. She might even become successful. Time will tell.”

               “You can’t give me one hour.”

               “Oh, don’t try to pity yourself, honestly. You were given everything you wanted growing up. Now you must figure things out for yourself.”

               “Right,” Dahlia snapped. “Everything.”

               With rather formal and short goodbyes, Dahlia left her parents’ home and drove to Saint Mungo’s, pulling up behind the abandoned brick building that concealed the hospital inside. She assisted Iris out of her seat and walked into the hospital. She settled Iris in the waiting room where coloring books and crayons awaited, then found Jason in his office.

               Iris watched from where she sat with a coloring book in hand, a crayon hovering over a page with a princess. Two shades were pulled down in the office, but a third on the far end was forgotten as the two started talking to each other. The talking seemed to escalate to shouting and exaggerated hand movements, and Iris frowned as she watched shock fall on her mother’s face, her jaw dropping, and her eyes filled with hurt. Then Dahlia seemed to talk fast while Jason shook his head and talked over her.

               Iris shifted uncomfortably as she watched her mother storm out of Jason’s office teary eyed.

               “Come on, sweetie,” Dahlia said to Iris, holding her hand out to her.

               “Dahlia!” Jason called to her, but Dahlia kept walking.

               Jason ran up to them, walking at Dahlia’s side while trying to get her to look at him.

               “I don’t want to end things on bad terms with us,” Jason said. “I am this close to finding a new treatment for childhood cancer, and I can’t have any distractions and I’m personally just not ready for the kind of . . ..”

               “So, I’m a distraction, then?” Dahlia asked, glaring at Jason.

               “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason stumbled over his words.

               “I get it, okay?” Dahlia said. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

               Jason sighed as Dahlia pushed past him and dragged Iris out of the hospital and back to her old beat-up car. She helped Iris into her seat, then climbed in the front seat, her hands on the wheel ready to go, but she paused and stared at the building in front of them for a moment before a sob broke through and she closed her eyes and covered her mouth, trying to fight back.

               “I’m sorry, Mumma,” Iris said, giving her mother a sad look. She wasn’t entirely sure what just happened, but it left her mother visibly upset. “Are you okay?”

               Dahlia breathed for a couple seconds, collecting herself before nodding and saying, “I’m okay, sweetie. I’m okay. Let’s go home.”

               Dahlia put the car in drive and pulled out of the lot.

               The ride to Dahlia’s small house was quiet, and they reached the red brick building in an hour, leaving London behind, and arriving in a small town. The house was a bungalow, and a very dated one at that, with chipping paint and shingles missing on the roof. Houses around the bungalow appeared updated and remodeled, enhancing the antique house’s look. The inside was just as old, with wooden cupboards in the kitchen and a rocky dining table in the carpeted living room. As evening was now upon them, Dahlia made sandwiches for Iris, but barely ate herself. She read the final chapter of Charlotte’s Web with Iris before tucking her daughter in and retiring for the night. Iris was sure she heard a few sobs in the middle of the night.

               The next day was another quiet one as Dahlia assisted Iris in brushing her hair and braiding it before helping Iris with her schoolwork. As noon drew near, Dahlia sent Iris to play in her room while she made lunch. Perhaps a pizza would be something good and new. Iris loved her home-baked pizzas. She could whip one up in no time using her mother’s recipe. If only it wasn’t her mother’s. Perhaps she could edit it to make it her own version.  

               While Dahlia scanned her fridge for the ingredients she’d need, she found an opened bottle of Pimm’s Number One. She knew she had lemonade, so she pulled out the bottle and her lemonade jug and mixed the two drinks. She would just have one cup to calm her nerves, cause if she didn’t, she might start crying again. Just one glass, and she would make that pizza and play with Iris again. At least she had her daughter, that was something she could rely on. Her precious baby girl.

               Dahlia drank her mixed cocktail while she worked around the kitchen. Somehow, her glass never seemed to empty, and she continued around the kitchen in a daze, building a pizza from muscle memory, forgetting to even tinker the recipe so it was nothing like her mother’s. Why did she even appease her parents? She never should have gone to their home. They could look forward to a retirement home in their future, far away from her and her daughter.

               And Jason—he was working on a special case with two young brothers who shared the same cancer. She loved that about Jason, his kind, caring side with kids, and his passion for his work. She never thought he’d sacrifice their relationship to focus on his career only. How selfish of him. Every man was a selfish, backstabbing fool. She should know that by now. Why did she keep putting herself out there just to have her heart broken again?

               Dahlia drank more of her drink. The room started to spin slightly as she set her pizza on the oven rack. She looked at the time and looked around for her timer. Where did she set that thing down?

               As she walked through the kitchen, her head spun again, and she felt nauseous. Maybe she should lie down for a minute. She collapsed on her sofa and slowly closed her eyes. Just a minute . . .  

               Iris was brushing her doll’s hair when a strange, smokey smell filled her room. She glanced out her bedroom door.

               “Mum?” she called out.

               There was no answer.

               Iris picked up her doll and walked out of her bedroom slowly. She noticed her mother asleep on the sofa, a bottle of a strange liquid and a glass sitting on the floor next to the furniture. Dahlia looked a bit ruffled, her hair sticking up all over and her eyes had bags under her eyes, probably from her lack of sleep last night. Iris paused next to her mother and tapped her shoulder.

               “Mum,” she whispered at first. When that did nothing, she shook her mother’s shoulder harder and shouted, “Mum!”

               Dahlia did not stir.

               Iris hugged her doll to her chest and walked to the kitchen. There was smoke steaming out from the oven, and something flickered inside behind the door, as if it were alive and looking for a way out. Iris slowly walked toward the oven, her head tilting curiously as she watched the thing flicker around inside, dancing to a random beat. What on earth had her mum been cooking?

               She stretched an arm out for the oven door. Her hand rested on the handle, and it felt warm, but not overly so. She pulled the door open to peek inside the oven.

               A rush of flames shot forward and Iris screamed as she fell backwards, fire licking at her face as it roared to life, the oven door dropping wide open.

               Iris back crawled away as quickly as she could, her face still feeling the heat of the fire. She stood at the kitchen entryway and watched horrified as the fire jumped for the wooden cabinets, catching and spreading, climbing higher and reaching for the curtains above the kitchen sink. Black smoke rose and started to fly for Iris.

Cradling her doll, Iris ran back to her mother.

“Mum!” she screamed, shaking her mother’s shoulders. “Mumma, wake up. There’s a fire!”

Dahlia didn’t move.

“Mum!”

Iris sniffled as he eyes filled with tears and she looked around. She saw the phone on the far wall away from the kitchen and ran over to it. She pulled it down and started to dial in the numbers her father always told her to do in an emergency. One-One-Two. Her hands shook as she held the phone up to her ear.

“One-one-two, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello? There’s a fire in the kitchen and my mumma won’t wake up.”

“Okay, sweetie, do you know your address?”

“Err, it’s uh, thirty-two Valleyview Lane in Gretatown.”

“Okay I have the fire department on their way now, can you get yourself outside of the house?”

“What about my mum?”

Iris looked back at the kitchen to see it drowned in smoke and fire leaping for more cabinets, getting closer to the carpet flooring in the living room. More tears escaped her eyes.

“Where is she?” the dispatcher asked.

“On the couch right here. She won’t wake up. I tried screaming but she won’t wake up.”

“Is there any way you can move her?”

“I can try.”

Iris let the phone hang and set her doll down as she ran back to her mother and grabbed one of her arms.

“Mum, come on,” Iris said as she tugged on her mother’s arm. She managed to drag her mother forward just a bit so her head dangled off the couch now, but Iris could not pull her mother off the couch, and she doubted she’d be able to drag her across the whole room.

“Mummy, wake up,” Iris pleaded, her eyes straying to the fire that started to eat the carpet just outside the kitchen. Smoke filled the air above them, and Iris coughed.

“Mum!” Iris cried before letting her arm go and running back to the phone.  

“She won’t wake up,” Iris sobbed, “I can’t move her and the fire’s getting bigger, and I don’t know what to do, and I’m scared. I want my Daddy.”

“Sweetie,” the dispatcher said, forcing a calm voice, “I need you to get out of the house. Get as far away from the house as you can, okay? The fire department will be there in three minutes.”

“I can’t leave my mumma—she’s gonna burn and die!”

Oh, honey.” There was a second’s pause before the dispatcher said, “Do you have any neighbors outside who can help you move your mother?”

“I’ll go look,” Iris said before letting the phone drop and running down the hall and out the front door.

She was glad to see some people stopping outside the house and staring up at the smoke. A man with a dog widened his eyes as he watched Iris run down the steps.

“Did you come out of that thing?” he asked Iris.

“I need help, my mummy’s inside and she won’t wake up.”

“Shite,” the man said, looking up at the house. He seemed to hesitate before he dropped his dog’s leash, shouting, “stay,” before running in the house with Iris next to him, another passerby to slow to grab Iris to stop her.

Iris pointed at the sofa when the got back inside, and the man rushed over to Dahlia, braving the fire that burned through the entire back of the living room and was working its way forward, enjoying the easy feeding on the old carpet that crumbled and emitted more thick black gas into the air.

The man coughed as he knocked over the alcohol bottle, taking note of that as he carried Dahlia out of the burning house.

Iris ran to the phone and grabbed her doll.

“Someone helped my mum,” she said to the dispatcher.

“That’s great, now you get out! Go!”

“Thank you,” Iris said before letting the phone hang and running out of the house.

Outside of the house, the man slowly lowered Dahlia to the ground, then rubbed vigorously at her sternum with a closed fist.

Dahlia’s breathing changed and she stirred before her eyes blinked open.

“What . . .?”

Then her eyes widened as she saw the fire, and a hand flew to her mouth. She tried to push herself up, but nearly fell back down.

“Iris!” she cried.

“Mummy!” Iris ran over to her mother and fell into her mother’s arms.
Dahlia cried as she hugged her daughter.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dahlia felt around Iris’s reddened face, feeling the heat as though she had been sunburned. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Iris said. “I was scared.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Dahlia sobbed as she cradled her daughter, realizing just how close she had come to lose her.

The fire department, an ambulance, and police arrived, responding to several one-one-two calls. Severus could not get there fast enough when he received a call from the police, and while they told him Iris was fine, he wanted nothing more than to apparate directly to Dahlia’s house, but unfortunately, with all the muggles surrounding the area, he could not pinpoint a good area near Dahlia’s residence he could just appear without drawing attention. She just had to live near so many muggles, didn’t she?

He packed up Harry in the car and drove to Dahlia’s residence nearly forty minutes away from his house. He nearly had a heart attack at the sight of the burned remains of Dahlia’s bungalow. Leaving Harry in the car with it running and double checking that it was parked, he jumped out of the car and ran over to where a paramedic was sitting with Iris in the grass away from all the gathering people and the firetruck that was wrapping up their hose.

“Iris!” he shouted, and Iris ran over to her father, jumping in his arms and squeezing him tightly around the neck.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Severus asked, looking her over and resting a hand against her face which felt hot. He looked at the paramedic. “Is she hurt?”

               “Just a little first degree burns of the face and a little on her hands, but she’s okay,” the paramedic reassured Severus.

               “What happened, honey?” Severus asked. “Where’s your mother? Is she okay?”

               Iris nodded and pointed over to the ambulance.

               Severus thanked the paramedic before he worked his way through the crowd of people admiring the burned house and toward the ambulance, wanting to make sure Dahlia was safe and unharmed. Dahlia was standing with a paramedic and a police officer in front of the opened back of the ambulance. Another officer was filling out paperwork. As Severus neared, he paused as he took in the scene happening before his eyes.

               “Blow,” the officer said, holding a breathalyzer to Dahlia’s mouth, and she did as he said.

               Anger slowly built up in Severus’s chest as the device confirmed that Dahlia was indeed drunk. He shook his head as he turned back into the crowd. He didn’t need anymore information to piece together what must have happened.

               “Severus!” Dahlia cried, pushing through the crowd after him. “Wait, please, I can explain.”

               “I don’t want to hear it,” Severus growled without even looking back or stopping.

               “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Dahlia said, fresh tears welling in her eyes as she persisted after her ex. “Severus, please, stop!”

               “I can’t do this anymore, Dahlia,” Severus said, still walking away. “This is the last straw.”

               “No, please, hear me out. This was an accident; it’ll never happen again. Severus, wait.”

               “Dahlia!” Severus snapped, tuning suddenly to glare at his ex. Dahlia stopped short in front of him, tears streaking down her face. “Look at you! You’re a bloody mess. And you nearly killed our daughter.” Severus hissed the last sentence through his teeth as he adjusted his hold on Iris.

               “I didn’t . . .” Dahlia choked on her breath as a sob escaped. She blinked before looking up at Severus, then up at Iris. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say to make this right.”

               “These visits are over,” Severus said.

               “Please don’t do that to me,” Dahlia whispered, shaking her head.

               “I don’t know what it is you need,” Severus continued, “therapy, rehab, I don’t know, but you need some serious help, and you better do something to get your life together and figure out what really matters to you.”

               “Please don’t take my daughter from me,” Dahlia begged, her hands clasping together in front of her. “She’s all I have.”

               “You should have thought of that before you burned the damn house down with her inside it.”

               Dahlia covered her face with both of her hands in shame and regret.

               “Break this up,” a police officer said, coming over and gently pushing Dahlia and Severus apart from each other. “Come on, not in front of your kid.”

               Severus looked at Iris, and she had her hands over her ears and tears leaking from her eyes as she looked back and forth between Severus and Dahlia. He adjusted her on his hip and rested a hand on her cheek.

               “I’m sorry, honey, we’re done talking now,” Severus said. He gave Dahlia one last glare before walking away, and this time Dahlia did not follow. She looked down at the ground as an officer directed her back to his car. Iris watched her mother sadly as she was strapped into her car seat. She sniffled and started crying.

               “What’s wrong, Iris?” Severus asked. He pulled out an emergency potions kit he kept in his car and found the burn balm and began applying it to Iris’s face.

               “I opened the door and let the fire out,” Iris cried. “It’s all my fault and you’re mad at mummy.”

               “No, this isn’t your fault,” Severus said, as he rubbed more burn balm into his daughter’s face. “What you did was an accident, but then you did the right thing and called one-one-two, just like we talked about. You were very brave.”

               “Why are you mad at Mummy then?”

               Severus sighed and looked back at where Dahlia was being driven away in a police car. He didn’t want to taint Iris’s image of her mother by saying the wrong words, especially with how angry he was at Dahlia. However, he couldn’t let his daughter blame herself for today’s scary event. He brushed Iris’s hair out of her face, smiling as the burns faded away.

               “I was scared for you, Iris,” Severus said. “And for your mother, honestly. However, Dahlia should not have fallen asleep while she was cooking food in the oven, and the reason she couldn’t wake up was because she was drinking an adult drink that can make you sleepy sometimes. She should not have been drinking any adult drinks while you were on your visit with her.”

               Though, drinking was never something that had ever needed to be brought up regarding the visits. Dahlia had always been a responsible drinker for the most part, only one other time that Severus could recall did she go a little overboard at a social event. He wasn’t sure what exactly happened this weekend, but it did not excuse Dahlia’s actions.

               “But I still opened the door and let the fire out,” Iris said, rubbing her eyes.

               Severus gently took one of her hands to apply burn balm to.

               “As I’ve said, that was an accident. You did not know the fire would spread. That is not your fault.”

               “I’m not in trouble?” Iris asked.

               “No. Not at all. You are not in any trouble.”

               “I don’t want Mum to go away,” Iris said, giving Severus a sad look.

               “We’ll work something out,” Severus promised. “Later. Let’s get you home.”

               Iris cuddled her doll when Severus shut the door and moved to the front seat.

               “Are you okay?” Harry asked from his seat.

               Iris nodded and squeezed her doll as she watched her mother’s burned house fade away from view.

                

 

To be continued...


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