I started with this back in April this year, but it's taken me this long to finish it...
The main idea for this fic came when I remembered that Daniel Radcliffe (who is of course Harry) has dyspraxia and I thought...well...what if one of Harry's kids had it? And then I thought that because Lily's the youngest then she'd already be feeling somewhat alone as it is, let alone with something like that to deal with.
This fic is basically just Harry and Lily fluff because I have a thing about Daddy-Daughter relationships and they're just so adorable!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please remember to review!
Lily was nine years old when the diagnosis came in.
The teachers at her primary school had been concerned for years about how messy her handwriting was, how much she was struggling in P.E. lessons when catching or throwing (or aiming for that matter) were involved. She could run fine, talk coherently and her brain was as keen as any other child her age - but it was just the small things that caused the teachers to contact her parents in regards to seeing a professional for advice.
The word that they used sounds almost like it could be exclusive to the Wizarding World; it sounded like a potion, Lily thought, or a spell used in a duel to stun an opponent. It did not seem like something appropriate to describe her with, something nasty that meant she needed 'extra help' than her classmates.
Dyspraxia.
The following weeks she avoided her parents; her brothers were both at Hogwarts having a good time and she was stuck at home with no one to play with and nothing to keep her company except for that word that the doctors used. Lily did not cry or go to them for comfort because she was stronger than that, but it really hurt inside when she thought that she'd never be as good a Quidditch player as they were - her mum had once been a professional for the Holyhead Harpies, after all, and her dad the youngest ever Seeker at Hogwarts - and she felt like such a disappointment.
Her dad noticed, though, and she thought to herself that of course he noticed, he was Harry Potter but he was also her dad, and he so had an annoying tendency to be right about these things.
"Hey," He greeted quietly, sitting on the swing she wasn't on and ignoring the creak that sounded. "Do you want to talk, Lil?"
"No," She answered defiantly, not looking up at him. "I am fine."
Harry didn't push, instead looking up at the sky; it was autumn and the leaves from the trees in the garden were starting to fall down once more. "Nice day, I suppose. It's rather quiet without James and Al around, you know - I almost actually miss their arguing."
She bit back a bitter smile; she missed her brothers too, though she'd never admit it
He observed her for a moment before speaking again. "You know, Lily, if you want to talk about the doctor appointment, then I'm right here."
"I don't," She disagreed firmly.
"Alright," He conceded; he could tell what was bothering her immediately - not because she had a particularly readable expression but because he knew her so well. "What do you want to talk about? Or would you rather play?"
Lily gave a shrug. "No point in playing. I'm no good."
"What? Of course you are," Harry disagreed, standing up again and holding a hand for her to take. "I've seen you beat your Uncle Ron at Grandma Weasley's; he's still sore about it."
"He let me win," Lily challenged, giving him a hard look. "The doctor said I can't catch or do anything like that, so no point in me playing."
Harry tried not to roll his eyes; she could be a stubborn little thing at times, no doubt about it. "There is, Lily; if we play then you'll get better." He picked up the nearby toy-Quaffle that had been lying on the grass and tossed it in the air a few times. "I'll help you if you want."
She looked tempted, but just bit her lip. "I'm not as good as you are, Daddy..."
"I'm not as good as your Mum," Harry stated. "She's a far better Chaser than me, and she's the one in the family who went on to play professionally, not me. But part of Quidditch is learning which position is most suitable for you; maybe you won't be a Chaser, but we'll never know unless we try."
For some reason, this encouraged her to join in with him; standing at opposite ends of the garden, Harry threw the Quaffle at his daughter and waited patiently when she fumbled before dropping it.
When she looked up, she was bright red in the face. "I-"
"That was only your first go," Harry interrupted encouragingly. "All of the best drop the ball once in a while."
It was clear that the motor skills were not coming as easy for her as they had for James and Albus; every time she failed to catch the ball her face fell and it was clear that she was getting more and more upset. Harry tried not to mutter a swear word under his breath when, after five minutes, she was getting so agitated that she really had no hope at all of catching the ball.
"I don't wanna play anymore!" She shouted when she fumbled again a minute later. "This is stupid - I'll never catch it!"
"What? Of course you will," Harry told her firmly, walking over to where she was standing. "Look, you just need to relax a little bit, Lils. If you keep getting angry then you'll never catch it."
"I'll never catch it anyway, because there's something wrong with me!" Lily argued, going bright red in the face out of anger. "I'm not like James or Al, Dad; I'm not funny or into sports like James is, and I'll never be as smart as Al is, not ever! I'm just stupid Lily who can't even catch a stupid ball!"
By this point Harry had had enough.
"Now, you listen here, Lily Luna," He started, tone suddenly hard as he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards him. "You are not stupid, and I don't ever want to hear you say that again, especially when I'm here. Understood?" Wordlessly, she nodded. "You might not be as good at catching a ball as James is, but he's four years older than you and so he's had more practice, and as for Al...he's two years older than you, Lily."
Lily sniffed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just thought...you and Mum always talk about how proud you are of James and Albus, and now I'm scared that maybe...maybe..."
Harry's heart sank. "Oh, Lily...we're already so proud of you, and we love you to pieces. You know that." He pulled her in for a hug, and she wrapped her arms around him gratefully. "We don't want you to be just like James and Al - just be you, that's important. It'd be dull around here if the three of you were the same." She gave a tearful giggle, much to his relief. "Is this what's been worrying you?"
"Uh-huh. 'm sorry, Daddy."
"Don't worry," He told her softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he drew away. "Your Mum and I don't want you to be unhappy - not now, not ever. You're wonderful, just the way you are." Harry gave her a small reassuring smile. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't even know what Quidditch was until I went to Hogwarts."
Lily looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah," He agreed, nodding his head. "And the first time I ever rode a broomstick was my first flying lesson. See? Already you're doing better than me."
"But...but you're an amazing Quidditch player, Dad. You were a seeker in your first year - no first years get on the team! And Mum played with the Holyhead Harpies, remember? So why can't I...well..."
Not wanting her to get upset again, he tried a different tactic. "It's funny you should mention your Mum, actually; do you know why she's such a great Quidditch player?" Lily shook her head. "When she was little - younger than you - she had to sneak out to the broom shed at Grandma Molly's and steal one of your uncles' brooms. It took years of practice to become as good as she is; it wasn't just overnight."
"And you?"
Harry gave a shrug. "Well...I'm only a good seeker, really. All there is to that is being quick and reaching a hand out; let's face it, when you're as scrawny as I was when I started Hogwarts, your broom flies quicker."
Lily looked rather relieved to hear this. "Maybe I can be a seeker like you, Dad?"
Harry grinned at her. "Lily, I think I'd be the proudest dad alive if you did that."