Word count: 1007

Written for:

QLFC - Seeker: What (if anything) does the Order of the Phoenix do? VoldemortWins!AU

The New Order

Hermione whipped her head around, helpless as dozens of witches and wizards - some little more than children - were cursed into death by the men in black. Some apparated away to who-knows-where, trying to escape with whoever they could reach out and touch. The crowd was vanishing in pieces, scurrying to safety in the face of Voldemort himself. But the man did nothing to stop them. Hermione, one of the few still standing, watched him stare at Harry's twisted body and begin to laugh.

She noticed one Death Eater turning towards her, raising his wand, and her frozen body leapt into action, dodging the killing curse and stepping out of that hellish world in a single step. When she dared to open her eyes again, the Forest of Dean surrounded her in its quiet, woodsy embrace.

But it was too predictable. Too easy to find.

There was no time, and there was no time, and-

The coins. Hermione stuck a hand into her pocket and pulled out one of the coins she'd charmed for the DA in fifth year, old and dirty but still functional. Immediately, she knew what she had to do.

.oOo.

Neville's hip burned where he lay. He'd thought he was dead, because all the pain had gone away, and Nagini no longer hovered over him, ready to strike. But it seemed to have come back. At least, that's what he thought until the coin buzzed again and slipped out of his hip pocket onto the burned ground.

"Someone called," he whispered. He couldn't help it.

He'd grow so attached to that coin, carried it around for two years even after the DA fell apart. They mocked him for seeing life in it when nothing alive was left.

But Neville sensed that someone was coming. Someone must have heard his voice and realized he wasn't, in fact, lying dead on the Hogwarts grounds. They had come to kill him. He couldn't apparate - he had never quite worked it out, and anyhow, he was sure that he couldn't think straight enough to go anywhere at all. The old safe places would be destroyed by now.

Neville rolled onto his stomach, pressed his hand into the coin, and waited for death.

When the Death Eaters came, they crucioed him until he passed out. His final sight was the letters N.L. appearing on his coin, engraved there in gold for all to see.

"Avada Kedavra!"

.oOo.

Kingsley stared at the coin one of the children had offered to him.

He was in charge of a massive group of refugees fleeing the school, fleeing death. They'd all apparated to different places: homes, beaches, schools, cities… but somehow the coin had led them to the Forest of Dean. He'd been with a young Draco Malfoy, for some reason, who had grabbed his arm and a younger girl's, sending them all to the grounds of Malfoy Manor. He'd barked at the boy, telling him it wasn't safe, but the girl hushed them all and pulled out her buzzing, burning, glowing coin. It read, Go to the Forest of Thomas (Gryffindor).

He had to hand it to Hermione, wherever she was. She was bloody brilliant.

But now the coin was flashing different things. Every so often, someone's pocket would burn, and they would say two letters. Initials, obviously. The first was N.L., then B.W., then F.D. soon after. The forest was full of students whispering names, crying, huddling together, and for once, Kingsley didn't know what to do.

.oOo.

Draco had panicked, and now he was paying for it. He'd run away from his father with the enemy in tow, and now they would come for him, cursing everyone he'd dared to save. All that was left of the Order of the Phoenix was be gone.

He didn't love Potter, and so he barely shed a tear when he died, but a thought was gnawing on him as he sat, hugging his legs with his back to a gnarled oak. He owed his life to a dead man.

Some time passed slowly, and Draco just sat, watching initials glow and fade on the extra coin he'd been given by a boy he didn't know.

M.M. - C.C. - L.J. - F.W.

The dead flickered past his eyes, and all Draco could think of was: This is my fault.

.oOo.

Molly spoke to Kingsley, her voice hushed and much calmer than she felt. In her head, the names of her children repeated themselves again and again, calling to her, but she couldn't find them. She tried to focus on the man's words about shelter, and transport, and a new place to hide, but none of it sank in.

"I can't think," she said, searching for a place they would all know. Kingsley nodded.

"Hogwarts is out, obviously," he muttered. No matter whether he was talking to himself or her - Molly couldn't tell the difference. "Diagon Alley is too exposed. They'll have the ministry by now."

Molly shut her eyes and focused, thinking of the places every Hogwarts student went. Then she opened her eyes. "King's Cross," she told him calmly.

"Yes!" he answered. "But the Muggles - we'll blow up a sewer pipe and close down the station - tell them to stay home."

Molly nodded. "I'll talk to the children." She began to walk away, then turned back to Kingsley, letting out a silent sob as she did.

"If you hear anything about my boys - about Ginny-"

Kingsley nodded, a quick jerk of his head that meant more than it seemed. "I will."

"Thank you."

"In the name of Harry Potter, we will survive," Kingsley said. It was meant only for Molly to hear, but a girl standing near them heard, and relayed it to her friends. Soon, the entire crowd was repeating his words.

Molly looked at Kingsley. Even now, when all hope was lost, the children had the spirit to stick together and have hope.

"The New Order," she mouthed.

Kingsley saw her lips move, and gave her a sad smile.