The Minster's Daughter- Draco Malfoy

jelly legs.

-AUDREY'S POV-

I expected to just be in the hospital wing for two weeks at best. It turned out that those kinds of reactions get worse the more you encounter. I was in there for three and a half weeks. Pomfrey said that if I wasn't such a featherweight, that I might have been able to get a more stable walk sooner. She said something about better weight distribution or whatever.

Today, however, I was allowed to freely walk from the hospital wing myself for the first time. Pomfrey didn't let me move from the hospital wing, and any rehabilitation I had done with my legs was in a 7 metre vicinity of my bed. I wasn't even all that stable, so I was still a bit wobbly while I walked.

Father came twice a week, once on Wednesdays and once on Sundays. It was disgustingly silent between conversations when he was there, but he was there nonetheless.

Draco came quite often, either doing work or just on a wander late at night, waking me up to complain or talk. It was quite pleasant.

I was just entering the trophy room near the champion's dorm, when I seen a familiar stuck-up blond woman sat on the sofa. Rita Skeeter. 

Last time around, she wasn't at all interested in me. Our interview lasted all of five minutes, while she was in that broom cupboard with Cedric for half an hour.

"Well, if it isn't the winner of the first task herself! My dear, I'd like a few questions with you" she wavered. I could go away now, only to be bothered at some point in the future by her, or get it over with. Opting for the latter, I nodded and sat.

"So, how is it? A young girl like yourself, beating those older boys in a dragon match. Tell me, you must feel empowered?" she asked, voice disgustingly prying.

"I think I'm just happy I'm not dead, or permanently paralysed," I said, much to her surprise.

"Permanently paralysed? Please go on,"

"My legs were temporarily paralysed. I've just come from the hospital wi-" I started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Oh, the injuries- I never thought! You passed out in the stadium after you completed the task. Pray tell, why?" she asked, her quill going mad on a floating notepad.

"I'm not sure. The spells were quite draining, I suppose?" I shrugged, not knowing what to say. No matter what I say, the article will be twisted into whatever she deems readable for her what? 10 regular readers?

"Oh, of course. I was there, you know! Nobody approached it like you did. Diggory used his immaculate transfiguration skills, Potter used a broom, Krum used a conjunctivitis charm. You, my dear, used very advanced, powerful magic for such a young witch of 12," she babbled.

"I'm 16," I corrected before carrying on, "they didn't tell me what they were all doing, and I didn't really get the chance to plan for it much," I said, much to her dissatisfaction.

The 'interview' lasted half an hour, and trust and believe it may have been the worst half an hour of my life.

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I was on my way to the great hall. My friends weren't informed about my progress, because Pomfrey said it might make them anxious about it. But them still thinking my legs are immobile won't? Okay love.

Going down and up stairs was still a little iffy, so Harry managed to find me leaning against the wall whilst trying to manoeuvre down the stairs.

"Oh, you're walking! Brilliant!" he exclaimed as he watched me struggle.

"As much as I appreciate it, Harry, I'm barely walking. Please can you help me?" I asked, stiffling a laugh, trying to grip onto the flat wall.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he stuttered before placing my arm over his shoulders, and his arm to my waist, helping me walk.