Disclaimer: I do not own HP. Kahl (whose name may change) is my character, as well as Sarah and some of the spells and books, namely Magick of Warfare. Please respect that.

Author's Note: Please review. I really want to know if you guys think I keep the characters well.

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Chapter 4

Hardships

A couple mornings after, Draco returned to the guestroom, Magick of Warfare in hand. The courier was still eating her breakfast. He sat down in the chair, and he began reading silently. She put aside her bread. "Yes, sir?"

"How far have you read?"

"I started chapter 12 last night."

"Sieges."

She nodded.

"What did you think of 11?"

"I . . . did not like it as much as some of the other chapters."

"Why?"

"Pestilence curses are . . . Weakening an enemy with disease rather than actual combat does not . . . seem like true warfare to me."

"You would rather face your opponent head-on."

She nodded.

"Why?"

The courier considered. "For one thing, it's more of a challenge. You have to use your skills directly against theirs, without knowing for sure how they'll respond. You have to be thinking ahead at every moment so they don't take your feet from under you." Her eyes fell to her breakfast.

"And with the pestilence curses?"

"Mere human strength and even the highest sword skills are no match for disease. The curses could only be fought with a countercurse or healing magic, or medicines."

"It's effective," Draco said.

"It's an easy road—" The courier's mouth clamped shut.

"Yes?"

She poked her bread with her knife.

"You were saying?" he said.

"It doesn't matter."

"If I say it matters, it does. What were you going to say?"

"I spoke out of place, sir." The courier continued to look at her breakfast.

Draco pursed his lips. "Very well." He stood, book in hand, and left.

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Kahl nodded and braced her hands against the edge of the bed. She pushed herself up. Her knees buckled, and she fell back onto the bed. "Here, let me help you." The maid put her arm around Kahl's shoulders. Kahl tried standing again, Sarah pulling her slowly to her feet. She leaned against the maid's arm, and she straightened her legs as best she could. She slid her right foot forward over the carpet. "Good," Sarah said. Kahl put her weight on the forward foot and, Sarah moving with her, dragged the left foot up past the right. She shuffled to the edge of the desk that sat in the back corner of the room, and she sank into the chair, her breath short and raspy. "You're healing well," Sarah said.

"I've been lying in bed for three weeks," Kahl replied.

"You needed it. But you already walked, and on your first try."

"Second. I tried last night after everyone had gone to bed."

Sarah's eyes widened. "But, miss, you—" She stopped.

"It's all right. And you're probably correct, but I'm stubborn. It's one of my biggest faults." She looked around. "I think I'll just sit for a couple of minutes."

The maid curtseyed. "Call me if you need anything." She took the breakfast tray and left.

Kahl sighed. Her muscles ached, and her head pounded. 'Just wait a minute,' she thought. 'Rest when you can, and gather your strength.' She shifted and groaned. 'And I need to.'

After a few minutes, Kahl pulled herself upright, the hard wooden edge of the desk digging into her palms. She reached out, placing a hand against the wall, and she dragged her feet forward. As she released the desk, her legs gave way. With a strangled cry, she slid down the wall and onto the floor. She reached for the desk, but she ground her teeth and started pulling herself across the floor. Hands out, lift body up, lever forward . . . Finally she made it to the bed, crawled between the covers, and huddled into the blankets, trying to soothe her sore muscles. She pulled the blanket over her head, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Kahl heard the door open, and she scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve. There were footsteps and the slight creak of the chair, then the flipping of pages. Then silence. She curled up even tighter. She closed her eyes against the tears, but they continued to come.

"Courier."

Kahl winced at Malfoy's cold voice, an untempered version of his father's tones. She scrubbed her eyes against the sleeve of the pajamas she had been wearing since she'd woken from her exhausted sleep, a week before. More tears welled up, but she blinked them back.

"Courier?"

Kahl ran her hand over her face, breathed deeply, and eased herself upright, pulling the blankets off her head. Draco Malfoy looked at her, his eyebrows knitting. She looked down in imitation of a bow. "Forgive my tardiness in responding. My weakness has not completely left me."

Malfoy's expression smoothed. "Defensive strategies."

She began to recite.