The shadows on the stone walls of the castle flickered and moved, looking alive as Euan crept down the hallway back to his Common Room. Despite his thirteen years, he felt like a small child as he jumped or flinched every few feet, wary of the dark images.

Euan pushed on despite his utter exhaustion, determined to at least reach the portrait hole before succumbing to the threat of unconsciousness that was brought on by loss of blood. If he got so far, there was a good chance that a fellow Gryffindor would find him and bring him to Neville or Parvati (the unofficial leader of the resistance and a girl who was quite talented at healing). He had never actually met either of them, but remembered them hanging out around the common room in previous years. And someone would know where to find them.

He shifted his shaking hand to better hold the blood-soaked rag to his forearm, where the worst of his gashes was still oozing blood. A few drops of the bright red substance fell on the floor, but he hardly noticed them.

Left, right, left, right. I can do it. I can do it. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

He let a strangled laugh escape his throat, though it was drowned quickly by tears. The words had come to his mind from a book had been his favorite as a child. His mother, a witch who worked at a local apothecary, had read him all the regular wizarding tales: Babbity Rabbity, The Fountain of Fair Fortune and the like, but his father (a muggle whose passion was books) had been determined to show him just how special muggles could be.

The Little Engine That Could had been one of his favorite stories as a child, ranking right up there with Green Eggs and Ham and Hansel and Gretel. He always admiried how the little blue engine was determined to succeed with leading the train over the mountain, even when the other, more qualified engines had deemed it too unimportant.

His smile dimmed as he wondered where his dad was. The official truth was that he died due to injuries he had gotten while saving some people in a fire that had sprung up at the bakery across the street from the bookshop he owned. The real truth was that he was in hiding. His mother had been worried for his father's wellbeing with the new Death Eater regime and they had orchestrated a fake death so he could be safer wherever he went. The fire had occurred, and his father had saved some people and gotten severly burned in the process, but his mother's limited knowledge of healing had patched him up enough to send him on the run to some foreign country.

Euan hadn't seen his father for over a year.

His mother had assured him that his father was safe and sound, but Euan couldn't help but worry, especially as the violence of the Death Eaters increased by the day. It was just luck that his mother had come from a little-known pureblood family from the United States which meant that Euan, with his half-blood status and presumed-dead father, was able to continue attending school. None of the Death Eaters cared enough about half-bloods to actually check and make sure their muggle families were dead

Brushing aside the thoughts of his father, Euan set his mind back on his journey as his legs grew wearier. They felt as if they would give out any second.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can... He repeated in his head as he began climbing the last set of stairs up to the seventh floor. I think I can, I think I-

Euan's foot slipped on a step and he fell hard on his injured arm. He bit back his cry of pain, fully aware that even so late at night there would be one or two Slytherins patrolling and that making a noise would allow them to find him. I really don't need detentions. He thought groggily, pushing himself up onto his shaky legs. This one was bad enough to count forever.

He plodded on, using the stone wall for more support with every step.

I think I can, I think I can...

Blood pooled on the floor next to Euan's sneaker as he paused, trying to remember the way back to the Common Room.

Was it right-left-left, or right-left-right? Or was it left-right-left?

Choosing a passage at random and stumbling down it, Euan only got far enough to realize the hall he had chosen was a dead end and he would need to turn around before dizziness took over all of his senses. He tried to turn, but slipped and fell hard on the stone floor, his forehead impacting the stone quickly enough to speed up the oncoming rush of unconsciousness.

-o-

"Is there anyone else who was in detention tonight?" Susan asked as she finished wrapping a bandage around Rose's hand and wrist, securing the splint in place.

"Not as far as I know," Neville said, glancing around the Room of Requirement at the other students who were healing and being healed. "Just Allison and Jake. And Rose here. Everyone else was just shaken from Defense class."

Susan pursed her lips, knowing as well as anyone there that Defense Against the Dark Arts was really just the Dark Arts under the Carrow's new regime. It had been emphasized more than usual that day when the second years had been taken into the older classes for practice of the Cruciatus Curse. Shuddering slightly as she remembered the class earlier that day, Susan struggled to bring her mind back to the present.

"Is that alright Rose?" she asked gently, looking into the young girl's eyes, still slightly red from tears.

Rose nodded silently, biting her lip. "Thank you," she whispered, looking down at her bandaged hand.

"No trouble at all," Susan assurred her gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But do you need anything else? We still have a bit of Dreamless Sleep potion if you need a small dose..."

Rose shook her head, but a few tears made her eyes shine brightly. "I-I'm good," she choked out, bringing her uninjured wrist up to her face to wipe away the tears. "Just tired."

Neville could tell that Susan, like himself, could see the lie in her statement, but neither of them made a mention of it. Their impromptu group of student healers had promised not to pry when their 'patients' seemed distressed, though they offered comfort and a shoulder to cry on if the need arose.

A chime sounded through the room and everyone was suddenly on alert. Ginny was already up with her wand out and Hannah had taken the initiative to gather the group of younger students they had been treating and make their way to the back of the room.

Neville swallowed sharply, wondering why the alarm for the corridor had gone off. He hadn't gotten word of anyone coming through the galleons, and no one knew of any other students who would be wandering around.

"Michael and Dean, back with the others," he said, giving the orders. "Ginny with me. The rest of you are in case we're taken out."

The other students moved and Neville marveled yet again at the strange sensation of having his orders being followed for a moment before pulling himself back together.

"Any idea who it could be?" Ginny whispered as they approached the door.

"None," Neville said, sending a glance over his shoulder at the others in the room. He saw the faces of the scared eleven year olds and turned back to the door. "I thought they stopped patrolling the upper levels at eleven."

Ginny turned the doorknob and opened the door on silent hinges. Neville jumped out of the room, wand out and ready, but stopped short.

"No Slytherins, but I need Padma and Hannah right now! But keep everyone else out of the way."

Ginny relayed his orders to the others and thought there were some sighs of relief, the two seventh years he had called for rushed to his side.

-o-

Euan woke up to a splitting headache and a few worried faces hanging over him. His confused state of mind caused him to thrash frantically until a few pairs of hands gently but firmly restrained him. He winced as pain shot through his right forearm, gritting his teeth together to keep from crying out as he had done during his detention.

"Where- where am I?" he asked, looking around at plain stone walls and a relatively low ceiling with warm gas lamps hung at equal intervals. "What happened? I was coming back to the common room and then-"

"Shh," a pretty Indian girl interrupted him. She looked vaguely familiar. "We'll answer your questions in a moment, but for now I need you to drink this. You have a concussion and we can't afford to let it get any worse."

The hands that had been restraining him shifted to help him sit up. Euan grimaced as the pain under his temple spiked and he brought a hand to his head, feeling bandages wrapped around it in a tight turban.

"This isn't going to taste the best, but you need to drink it, alright?" the girl said again, holding a pinkish potion up and bringing it to his lips. He nodded slightly and opened his mouth obediently, but nearly choked as the thick potion worked it's way down his throat.

The young Gryffindor coughed and sputtered, but was glad when his terrible headache all but subsided, dimming to a quite manageble ache. "Thanks," he said, coughing again. "That's much better."

"No problem," the Indian girl said, smiling at him.

"Is your headache gone completely?" asked another girl, who had a round face and long dark blonde hair done in a plait. "Or is it just muted pain now?"

"Um, well it still hurts, but it feels much better..."

"No nausea or dizziness?" The blonde-haired girl ran a keen eye over him and he felt almost like he was in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey.

"Not at all," he said, then let out a yawn. "But I am a bit tired."

The girls giggled and he heard a few chuckles from his other side. He turned to see a tall boy with dark hair kneeling by his bed.

"Hi Neville," Euan said, brightening as he caught sight of the seventh year.

"Hey Euan."

"Does that mean I'm at the DA headquarters?" Euan asked. Neville looked amused.

"Sort of. This is the place where we bring the students who've been hurt during detentions or in classes. The Carrows know we've been healing students, but not where or how. And no official things for Dumbledore's Army happen in this specific room, so I guess it would be more of a three-House mini Hospital Wing."

"Cool," Euan said, gazing around at the other cots laid out and the few cabinets along one wall where potions seemed to be stored. "So are you, like, official healers and stuff?" he asked the girls. The three older teens laughed again.

"Not quite, though I won't be the first to say we are the two from the DA who are the most gifted at healing," the blonde-haired girl said. "My name is Hannah Abott, seventh year Hufflepuff."

"And I'm Padma Patil, seventh year Ravenclaw," said the other girl.

Euan felt very confused. "But I thought Parvati was-"

"Parvati is my sister. My identical twin, though in Gryffindor of course. We both seem to have inherited our mother's talent for healing, but she's been helping out for quite a bit longer than I have recently and I knew she needed a break."

"Oh."

Euan couldn't think of anything else to say, and so they lapsed into silence before Euan yawned again.

"Time to sleep, I think," Neville said gently. "Let's get you back to the Common Room, Euan."

Neville helped him stand up on slightly shaky legs and let Euan lean heavily agianst his side. Neville knew the boy was exhausted from what must have been a rather horrible detention (based on the gash that had been cut into his arm and the spastic actions his heavily-Cruciated muscles had done while he was unconscious), but he also knew that the thirteen year old would sleep much better in his four-poster bed than on a hard cot. They also wouldn't have to worry about guards around the Room of Requirement if all of them would be able to get back to their common rooms so they could close the room completely.

Euan slumped a bit more against his side, and Neville smiled a sad smile. "Let's get you to bed."

-o-

Ginny frowned as Neville finally arrived in the Gryffindor Common Room supporting Euan Abercrombie, a small-for-his age third year who was slumped against Neville's side.

"Is he alright?" Ginny asked anxiously, pushing off from where she had been sitting on the couch near the fireplace. "Hannah and Padma got him fixed up?"

Neville sighed. "He'll live, though he lost a lot of blood and got a bad concussion from falling. Sleep is the best thing for him, but he'll have some nasty headaches over the next few days."

The red-head nodded. "Well, good night Neville," she said, walking slowly toward the staircase that led to the girls dormitories.

"Good night Ginny."

She watched silently as Neville helped a practically-sleeping Euan up the winding stairs, then turned back around, slumping into an armchair and rested her closed eyes on fists supported by her forearms and legs.

How long would they have to keep this up? How long would they have to help those who didn't know how to help themselves? Madam Pomfrey had been strictly forbidden to heal any injuries other than those caused during fights in the corridors, leaving the majority of the injured students to those sixth and seventh years with an aptitude for healing magic.

And when would the Carrows stop torturing innocent children? Euan and some of the others she had seen were prime examples of their treatment during detention. Split lips, gashes that healed dreadfully slowly as if cursed open, sprained joints and many more. They had seen it all. Even the Cruciatus Curse, which seemed to be a favorite of the Carrows.

She thought - not for the first time and certainly not for the last time - about Harry. Where were he, Ron and Hermione? What were they doing? Were any of them thinking of her, of Neville, of those in the castle? Did they know about the failed attempt to get the sword from Snape's office? Did they know what the Carrows were doing? That more students were going to bed each night with injuries and frightening nightmares?

Ginny started as the fire finally sputtered out, leaving her in darkness. Reluctantly she climbed to her feet, made her way up to her dormitory and fell fully-clothed onto her bed. She glanced out the window at the stars that sparkled overhead and recited a poem she remembered from before Hogwarts that Bill had taught her.

"Starlight, star bright," she whispered. "First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight."

Please keep us safe and get us through this war alive. Help us to stay strong.

And though she felt slightly childish sending her wish off into the heavens at the age of sixteen, Ginny Weasley felt comforted by the twinkling light of the stars. After all, it was nearly the Easter holidays. She would be able to go home and see her family, hear news of the Order and Ron, Hermione and... Harry.

And she fell asleep without her usual nightmares of dark, damp stone walls and hissing voices haunting her. She fell asleep dreaming of bright summer days spent beneath trees by the lake and around the grounds, of laughing with her brothers and of kissing a dark-haired boy with brilliant green eyes.


A/N: So, a few glimpses of Hogwarts life in early 1998. I hope you liked it (I know I actually did like this one, so I hope you do too! ;) The title came from the musical Wicked (utterly amazing!) and The Little Engine That Could is a very real, very cute book! :)

Just a note: I'm slightly disappointed that fanfiction-dot-net does not have Euan Abercrombie as one of their characters to include in the character section of your story... Granted, he is only mentioned briefly in OOTP, but lack of info is no reason to dispense with him entirely! There are some characters on the list that even I don't know much about! :P

This was written for Fanfiction, School of Imagination: Math Assessment 2, HP Potions Competiton: Babbling Beverage and The Diagon Alley Competition: Ollivanders

Tell me what you thought of it! :)