For the Greater Good

Author’s Note: I was given the prompt by my dear friend Evie, “Aurorgy.” Then we realized that everyone we actually wanted to write about was also in the Order. So now it’s an “Ordergy.” Also, Evie is banned from giving me any more ideas.

Albus Dumbledore sighed wistfully. It was a shame, he thought, that in order to hold the magic steady he couldn’t actually participate. It was an old magic, one that bound a number of people together under a common goal, making betrayal impossible. The spell required was long, complex, and could only be performed by a truly exceptional wizard. The catch of the spell was that all the people involved were required to indulge in very intimate acts as a group.

At least, that was what he had told the rest of the Order.

For a long time, Albus had been trying to convince his fellows that love was the most powerful thing in the world. It was clear that many of them had not taken his words to heart no matter how he had insisted, but he thought he finally had a way. It had, uncharacteristically, been Aberforth that suggested it back in the original Order, but the information had come too late. By the time they had decided how to implement it, the war had essentially been over.

So when he had reformed the Order, he had begun it with the idea already waiting--if he could get all of them to bond intimately, to think that they were unable to betray, they would be far better prepared and solid as a group. And hopefully, of course, none of them would ever find out that there was no such spell.

Many of the members had objected on the grounds that there was no safe Headquarters--Sirius had then supplied Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Many had objected on personal grounds--they eventually overcame their objections upon hearing how important such a spell would be for cohesion and trust. One objection, that it was dangerous for every member to know the identity of every other, Dumbledore addressed personally. “Trust and love,” he said, “are what make us different from the Death Eaters. They have the luxury of not trusting each other--we do not.”

That was the last of the objections.

And so it was that at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the day before the students were to arrive, the entire Order of the Phoenix gathered in the large sitting room, silencing charms powerful enough on every surface that Mrs. Black’s portrait wouldn’t wake. There were five notable exceptions--Mrs. Figg, who was a squib and upon whom the magic wouldn’t work; Hagrid, who was on a mission to the giants; Severus, because his role as double agent could not be compromised; Daedalus Diggle, who was watching over the Department of Mysteries for the night; and Sturgis Podmore, who was currently on “guard duty” watching over Harry Potter. But the rest of the Order was present and somewhat apprehensive, comprising of Hestia Jones, Minerva McGonagall, Emmeline Vance, Nymphadora Tonks, and Molly Weasley, for the ladies. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Elphias Doge, Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, and his own brother Aberforth were representing the men, looking both more excited and more put-out than the women.

“‘Ere,” muttered Mundungus, “‘Ow come there’s more blokes than birds?”

“Do your part and shut up,” Moody growled at him. “Albus, is the spell ready?”

“Oh, yes,” Dumbledore assured him. “Elphias will be assisting me in casting it, due to his health...concerns.”

Doge looked grateful. The prospect of having aerobic intercourse with several witches and wizards had almost wheezed him into a coma. Albus pulled him away, explaining in hushed tones that what he must really do was trust Dumbledore to cast the real spell, then do his own part in filling the room with a charm that lowered inhibitions. He knew that Elphias would never think to contradict his orders. And it really was for the good of them all.

Elphias cast his spell at the same time Dumbledore began chanting thoroughly nonsense words of his own invention, making sweeping arm motions and allowing colors to swirl about his robes. He did take a moment to perform a quick anti-conception charm to blanket the room, which would be covered up by all the other “magic.” With any luck they would think that the effects of Doge’s spell were merely aftereffects of the “primary” charm, and allow it to pass unquestioned.

It was quite clear that the spell (Doge’s, anyway) was working perfectly. Everyone in the room, with the exception of Albus, was undressing in a languid, slightly interested fashion. Next to him, Elphias started to follow suit until Albus frowned at him. “Remember your heart,” he said to his old friend, and the ancient wizard sighed wheezily. Albus thought he heard the little man mutter under his breath, “But what a way to go,” staring at the nubile body of Nymphadora Tonks being revealed.

Albus resolutely turned away from the corner in which Mundungus and Aberforth were crouched, having no desire to see anything of the sort. He hoped the two of them would stay there, though he did spare a moment of pity for his brother. Then again, Aberforth was accustomed to shoveling large amounts of goat dung on a regular basis, so perhaps he wasn’t bothered by the smell.

On a plush chair in the center of the room, Sirius Black was sprawled. Bill Weasley was kneeling between his legs, sucking eagerly on the older man’s cock. Sirius’s hands were tangled in Bill’s hair, head thrown back in ecstasy as the eldest Weasley brother bobbed and suckled in what Dumbledore assumed from Sirius’s reactions was a very skilled manner.

Nearby the two on the chair, Alastor Moody was lying on the floor, hands full of Emmeline Vance’s breasts as she rode him sedately. Their coupling seemed unhurried, both participants content to proceed at the pace for as long as necessary. His hands were stroking and caressing her chest, and she didn’t seem to notice his wooden leg sprawled out on the ground. His normal eye may have been focused on Emmeline, Albus noted, but the magical one was pointing directly behind him.

Behind Moody and Vance, Tonks was pressed between Kingsley Shacklebolt in front and Arthur Weasley in back, who exchanged a devious look and both shoved into her at the same time. She gasped in pain, fingernails digging tightly into Kingsley’s shoulders, but neither of them seemed to mind too much. Arthur was holding Tonks by the hips as he thrust into her ass, and her knees were hooked over Kingsley’s strong arms. Her toes were at least two feet off the ground, being suspended in a perpetual forward-and-back, forward-and-back motion as one or the other of the men pushed into her cunt or her ass. It wasn’t long before she was moaning in pleasure, and Albus thought he could see Arthur’s mouth moving, perhaps forming whispered sentiments or curses.

Arthur’s wife, close by, was being orally (and expertly) serviced by Hestia Jones as she kissed Remus Lupin, hand wrapped around the werewolf’s length between their bodies. The black-haired witch had a hand between her legs, rubbing herself hard as she licked Molly with apparent relish, and Remus was moaning into the older woman’s mouth.

That only left, thought Dumbledore looking around....ah, yes.

They were near to him, actually, near enough for him to hear Charlie Weasley grunt, “Always knew you’d be a great lay, Professor,” as he thrust into Minerva McGonagall, taking her roughly from behind on all fours. The Deputy Headmistress was groaning along with him, whether at his thrusts or his words Albus couldn’t tell. “Always wanted to fuck you,” he continued, “even at school. Wanted to take you over your desk, fuck your tight cunt every time you came to tell me we won the Quidditch cup. Wanted to make you beg for it.”

Minerva was begging then. “Please,” she whispered, Doge’s charm taking away the rest of her inhibitions, “Charlie, please, harder.” Her hair was down, spilling around her face in a curtain of black, right down to the carpet.

He obliged her willingly, grabbing her long hair and taking her over and over, gathering speed and force with each thrust, making both of them cry out with the fury of their coupling. Before either of them could finish, Charlie’s brother sauntered up to them. “Charlie,” he said by way of greeting, “you mind sharing?”

“Go ahead,” his brother said magnanimously, then gripped McGonagall’s hair more tightly. “Suck Bill’s cock,” he hissed, and she obliged.

Dumbledore tore his eyes away from the fascinating sight to see where Sirius had gotten to. Ah, yes. He was now bent over the arm of the same chair, being taken forcefully by Tonks, who had swapped her genitalia for the purpose. She looked positively gleeful at the use of her Metamorphmagus powers, slamming deep into Sirius with every thrust. Sirius also looked to be enjoying himself, if the fingernail-shaped crescent marks in the chair’s upholstery were any indication. Tonks was clearly angling properly, making her cousin thrust frantically against the chair for friction, and Albus suspected this was not the first time she had done something similar. He could vaguely hear Sirius chanting “Please, fuck me please fuck me please!” over and over again, and heard Tonks laugh as she assured him that she would do just that. “Oy!” she called out to the room at large. “Could someone shut him up for me?”

Unexpectedly, Alastor was the first to arrive, though several Order members had looked up in interest. Moody ran a hand over Sirius’s face, grabbed his chin to angle the man perfectly, and slid effortlessly down his throat with a groan. Albus wasn’t certain whether he should feel sorry for Sirius, being pounded at both ends by Aurors, or envious for the same reason. It really was a younger man’s world, he thought sadly as he watched Sirius reach his climax with a shudder that shook his whole body.

The Remus/Hestia/Molly trio had swapped places, Remus lying on the ground while Molly bounced up and down on his cock and Hestia sat on his face. The two women were kissing, leaning together to caress as the werewolf pleasured them. Albus hoped that they would soon let poor Remus breathe. From the sounds he was making, hungry little growls as his hips bucked up into Molly over and over, Albus guessed that both tongue and teeth were coming into play. Hestia and Molly certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Kingsley and Arthur seemed to have enjoyed their previous tryst with Tonks, as they were repeating the action with Emmeline Vance between them. The older woman was facing Arthur, switching positions, with Kingsley’s large cock buried deep inside her ass. Arthur dropped down to his knees at a word from the woman and began hungrily licking at her folds, Emmeline’s hands tangled in his hair pushing his face harder between her thighs. She was rocking forward with every thrust that Kingsley made, the tall black Auror making her moan and the red-haired man making her whimper.

This odd fluctuation of sounds was attracting attention, and Albus saw Bill, Charlie, and Minerva break up their little group. Minerva headed right for the Tonks/Moody/Sirius threesome, interspersing herself cleverly into the middle. The other three exchanged glances, and quickly adapted to the change. Minerva was soon over the chair’s arm, sucking Tonks as Sirius took her from behind and was in turn taken by Moody, who set the pace for the group. Every time Moody slammed into Sirius with a growl, Sirius would thrust into Minerva, who would take more of Tonks down her throat. She was looking up at the pink-haired witch, who was smiling deviously. Suddenly, her self-grown cock disappeared, and Minerva took a moment to adjust. Before long, she was sucking hard on Tonks’s clit, and slid two fingers into the younger witch, who squealed in delight. “Oh, Professor!” she exclaimed, and Minerva laughed into the girl’s cunt.

Charlie had stolen Hestia away from Molly and Remus, and was fucking her against a wall. Bill had stolen Remus away from Molly, and was fucking Remus against the wall right next to Charlie. The two seemed to exchange a discreet high-five, Albus noted with some amusement. Kingsley had somehow placed himself between Remus and the wall, and Albus was impressed to see how far down the Auror’s throat Remus was thrusting. Kingsley either had practice, or was naturally gifted. Again, Albus felt a twinge of envy and longing for his younger years. And for a flash of blond hair...

He turned resolutely away, focusing on Molly and Arthur, who had found each other at last. With long practice, they were reaching climax together, seeming to move as one body. Molly was the first to shudder and cry out, followed less than a second later by Arthur, buried to the hilt inside his wife, face pressed into her shoulder. She was holding him tenderly, and Albus was glad he couldn’t hear the words that passed between them.

He heard a sound that meant that someone had finished from the corner containing his brother and Mundungus, but resolutely remained turned away. There were certain limits to filial piety, and he wasn’t inclined to test them.

As if the Weasley parents had been a signal, everyone seemed to be finishing at the same time. Remus, down Kingsley’s throat; Charlie, into Hestia; Kingsley, in his own hand as he knelt; Bill, buried inside of Remus; Sirius and Tonks, one inside the other; Hestia and Emmeline, legs wrapped around each other, kissing, touching and screaming; and Alastor, finally finishing with Minerva as the two of them collapsed, the last ones standing.

“The spell,” Albus announced in a voice that only shook slightly, “is complete. Thank you, everyone, for your participation. I need hardly tell you now that your trust in each other is absolute.”

It had worked, he thought to himself with a glow as he watched the Order members don their clothes, blushing, as soon as Doge’s charm wore off. They were flushed out of heat, not shyness, he knew. As he swept from the room, happily content, he wondered idly whether scenes like the one he had just seen would repeat themselves at Grimmauld Place, even without the enchantments.