A/N: Originally, this was a story I wrote for a friend for Christmas. Thus, the "Twelve Days of Christmas" theme this and a lot of other stories I'll be posting have.

Newt threw himself down behind the padlocked fence and huddled into the snow drift. The illumination from the patrol's wands skimmed through the links and passed on. The guards' footsteps crunched past until their grumbled complaints vanished.

Newt breathed out a sigh of relief. If they had checked the pen, he would have been caught for sure.

But they hadn't checked. For some reason, it had never occurred to them that someone might slip past the wards and climb the fence into the wounded dragons' pen.

He stood carefully. Most of the poor creatures were too drugged to waken, but it was best to remain cautious. They needed their sleep.

There were twelve in this pen, mostly juveniles. The general had wanted to experiment with something smaller that could slip past enemy lines and that would be easier to control. No one had listened when Newt told them that was a bad idea.

He padded over to Ira first. A blasting charm had mangled the bones in her wings and burned a hole through the membrane. He needed to check and make sure she hadn't damaged her splint.

Then there was Miklos, who'd gotten an eyeful of mustard gas, and Gizi, who'd flown straight into a plane after being confunded for the third time, and -

And on and on it went. All twelve of them were lying broken. They didn't have the tough hides or resistance to magic their elders had, not yet.

And if the general had his way, they never would. He'd called the experiment a failure and ordered Newt to put them down to save resources.

Newt rubbed Ira's head behind her eras, just the way she liked it. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll get you home to your mountains when you're well again."

All they needed was some time to recover and a little care and space. Newt could give them that.

He went back to the fence and dug his case out from the snow where he'd hidden it earlier. He brought it over to Ira and flicked it to the right setting before opening it.

A quick spell to waken her and she would smell the raw meat inside and crawl in. Hopefully.

Newt rubbed her ears one more time and got to work.