Harry and the Botched Cult Ritual.
AN: This idea was eating me.
Chapter 1: Insane cultists are crazy.
A young boy was lying naked in the center of a ritual circle on an altar, bound spread-eagled, with three symbols carved into his chest, and wearing a blindfold, a very old one. The people who had broken into the place he lived, and kidnapped him, and those he was forced to call a family, and placed him into that position, all the while claiming that he should be proud to be chosen as the offering to their dark god.
There were twenty-four other abducted people of all ages and genders, as well as seventy-two cultists, and the cult leader.
The ritual they were about to perform required forty-nine sacrifices, one to be the offering and the rest split between willing and unwilling sacrifices.
Harry was chosen to be the offering as they thought his scar made him special.
As the cultists began chanting, butchering ten languages, from Latin to Klingon, some facts should be brought to light.
Like how Harry was the only person there with even a drop of magic, or that the ritual was created entirely by the insane cult leader, while he was on at least three different mind-altering substances.
Those facts alone should have made the results of the ritual being forty-nine dead people after the leader killed the 'offering' in a fit of rage when nothing happened, and a large mess being left behind for the warehouse workers to find and report in the morning.
That is what should have happened, but the leader had done some homework and chose a location that had been rumored to be the site of a major ritual a hundred years ago. He was right, and the ritual circle was intact underneath the warehouse floor, as it was carved into a sheet of solid stone, and the non-magicals that built the place had ignored it.
A circle that was at the convergence of two major, and three minor leylines.
This would again not mean anything, except that the circle was set towards sacrificial rituals, and forty-eight people, even non-magicals, being sacrificed in seconds was more than enough to activate the array, which was set to summon spirits, using a random animal, the larger the animal, or animals, the longer the spirit could linger.
The overcharged ritual reached outwards through time and space, and towards the focal point, the young boy.
The marks on the boy glowed, each a different color. A warm purple, a cool blue, and an ominous red. The marks then shifted, causing the cultists to continue their chant, as they were finally getting results, after failing six other times. (EN)
A massive explosion of smoke and light shook the warehouse and blew the roof off.
The roof, being flung with such might, flew many miles, only to knock out an old man in hideous robes when it landed, but that's not important.
In said old man's office, there were explosions, as delicate instruments self-destructed, as they couldn't handle the load.
Interestingly the last one that exploded made noises that if translated into English would be, "Muskrat custard error."
Wards shattered at the Dursley household, and the loose magic followed the thread to whom it was bound to, adding to the screw up that was the cultist ritual.
The ritual broke through time and space, to a place never accessed from that reality, and touched 'three' beings.
It did not grab them and drag them to the location.
In fact, it was more a hand of invitation, one that they could easily refuse.
The invitation was actually offered to a few beforehand and was refused.
A golden king thought it was beneath him.
A childlike assassin wasn't interested.
A saber thought he wouldn't do a good job of it.
The archer was thought it would be too much of a pain.
The magic, guided by what remained of the blood wards, touched a berserker, shuddered, and then withdrew the invitation. (EN2)
The young, physically between fourteen, and sixteen, year old lancer accepted. She had long purple hair and was wearing what looked like a well armored magical girl outfit.
An adult rider accepted her long purple hair, and skimpy black dress with holes cut in her side, and to show her rather impressive cleavage, as well as her calf-length black stockings, all of her clothes, had purple bands on them.
The last nearly made the magic withdraw the offer again, but something stopped it. The other two that had accepted made it seem to be unable to withdraw quickly. This one being seemed to be the exact opposite of what the magic was reaching for. She was inhumane in appearance, with her clawed hands and feet, the scales on her forearms and mid-thigh down, her long snake-like tail, the way portions of her hair clumped up to end in a total of five snakeheads, and her wings. Her scales, claws, and wings were golden in color. She was wearing a skimpy white dress.
The being felt the invitation and accepted in her role as servant avenger before the magic could change its mind.
In another realm, a vampire started laughing for no reason, scaring almost everybody in the clocktower.
In a realm where aspects dwell, a being had a grade ninety-two hangover.
Someone's destiny didn't just derail, it derailed, chugged across twelve other tracks knocking five other destiny's off their rails, landed on a roller-coaster, was sent flying as it rocketed off the track, landed neatly in a newly spawned rail track, and chugged merrily on its way.
The being decided to take a vacation, and left a note that it was going to the beach.
Ten minutes later it's superior dragged it back and told it to at least track down who, and where things just went screwy.
The being cried, he probably wouldn't get it's vacation for at least twenty millennia, as tracking down a single fate with an infinite amount of important people in the multiverse takes a lot of time, well first step first, is the who, then the what version of the who, then the easiest at that point, the why.
It would find the issue to be easier than he thought, but still very hard.
Back at the ritual sight the three beings that emerged from the light and smoke, felt their bonds solidify on the ten-year-old boy strapped to the altar, at the same time they felt their energies being drawn from the earth. They would still fade quickly without the boy, but he wouldn't be straining to support them.
"Dark Goddesses, please accept the offering we supplied, and bless us with your dark power," the leaser said while kneeling. After all, if his god decided to appear as three women, who was he to argue?
The inhumane one walked up to him, and he braced himself to receive his blessing.
Instead, her snakeheads ripped the man apart and devoured him.
The oldest, human looking one, went to unstrap the boy, but she kept the blindfold on, as he didn't need to see the monstrous woman tearing apart, and eating the cultists, and the young lancer who was using her scythe to cut down the cultists.
Such violence wasn't for young eyes.
She took him out from the warehouse, and the sleepy boy, now that he was feeling warm and safe in the woman's embrace, told her where he lived in a sleepy voice before he passed out, when she asked.
The woman would wait for her fellow servants before heading there.
Upon entering the house, in the now almost entirely depopulated street, as the cultists had killed everybody in the street that they could find that they didn't need, so as to minimize witnesses.
The three awake females looked around the trashed house and decided that it would be something to take care of in the morning.
Then police sirens sounded, as someone that lived just outside the 'kill zone' on the way to the home, had reported three women, carrying a naked boy, were heading in that direction.
Placing the boy on the couch, the woman headed outside to handle the police, with a mostly true story.
The monstrous woman headed upstairs to sleep in the master bedroom, the room had been raided, and the mattress slashed, but after flipping it the woman just went to sleep.
The young one, scavenged some blankets for the boy, and stayed downstairs in case she needed to grab their master, wake the other servant, and make a quick getaway, or help her fellow servant by supporting her story.
She wasn't stupid, she knew the identity of the other human-looking woman. It was obvious. The monster woman, she wasn't sure of but had a sinking suspicion.
To be fair, the other two were the same, but nobody had said anything about it.
She hoped she was wrong, but at least if she was right, she was at least guaranteed that she wouldn't end up like that.
Well as a servant at least.
The older woman came in and sat in a ruined chair, across from the one the lancer sat in, and said, "The police accepted the story that we found him after the cultists performed their ritual, and I helped him escape as they all started being killed. I also gave them the location of the warehouse.
"They said we could stay here for now, as the owners are dead, and he lived here, but we need to be able to pay the upkeep, get new furniture, and clothes. It's a good thing that being summoned gives us the information of the culture of the area. Tomorrow I will go to this ministry of magic, and get us set up as guardians for him, get Ids for you and me, I doubt she would need them, but I'll get her one as well, and to see if he has some sort of trust vault, or insurance from the other three, for us to use to help him," the older one explained while looking tired. It wasn't the walk or summoning that did so, it was the talking to the police, as she didn't want to let too much slip.
"I take it I'm on babysitting, and monster watch duty?" the younger said wryly.
"Careful, you know that's how we ended up in life."
"Can't you let me have my delusions? Bad enough I apparently grew up and lost my ideal beauty."
The older just sighed, recognizing the truth of those words. She had often felt that the small cute looks of her sisters were the ideal, and she had lost it as the only 'mortal' of the three. Of course thanks to the information given her, she was ironically closer to the current day's vision of beauty.
The next day started bright and early, and the eldest human form servant was out of the house, to head towards the ministry to get the papers, so they could be filled out and turned in the same day. She also had pictures taken of herself, the monster woman, and the youngest servant with a Polaroid camera that was in the house, and scavenged some money from some hidey holes throughout the house, the largest stash under a floorboard in the master bedroom.
She didn't know where the three pairs of glasses that were in a package on the doorstep came from, why they suppressed her eyes, or why the hell the package had her name on it, but she was grateful for them, less questions about wearing glasses, than wearing a blindfold.
The monstrous servant was already up and searching through the fridge for something to eat.
She found a motorcycle and some keys in the next door neighbor's house and borrowed them.
Her riding skill allowed her to use the machine like a master, and avoid suspicion from the police.
Upon entering the ministry, and getting a badge that read Rider, Adoption. She passed the table at the front without a fuss because she didn't have a wand to check. The on-duty Auror assumed she was magical despite that because she was able to find and enter the building without help.
After getting the location of the office she needed she simply headed there, ignoring the disdainful or appreciative looks her outfit attracted.
Finding the right door she entered the Department of Engagements and Adoption.
The first thing to hit her was the smell. The place stunk like a liqueur store. The second was the amount of parchment that was in the room.
The third was the obviously smashed third cousin of Lucius Malfoy.
Walking up to the man, the servant said, "I need the papers to become the magical guardian of a child, as well as papers for my two... erm... sisters?" she finished hesitantly, not sure how to describe the situation with her fellow servants.
The man looked at the woman drunkenly, and synapses fired wrongly, and a lecherous look came over his face as he interpreted the request as only a drunk, horny male could.
Either that or what was about to happen was an honest drunken mistake.
He grabbed three copies of what he thought was the right paperwork, and an instruction sheet for the paperwork, as some of the paperwork was intentionally made too complex, so cheat sheets were created for the more complicated ones.
Instead of, for instance, rewriting the paperwork to make it easier.
He also handed her a one-day contract quill, it would dissolve twenty-four hours after it left the ministry, and was used to painlessly write signatures in blood.
Rider was also informed that the papers would flash gold if they were accepted, silver if they needed to come in or dissolve if the participants were ineligible.
A quick trip to the ID department, witch the muggleborn at the desk accepted the muggle money that Rider found under a floorboard in the Dursley house, the witch would put enough galleons in to cover the cost, that equaled around eighty percent of the mundane money she obtained, three Ids using the pictures Rider took that mourning, and the assurances that they would be legal by the end of the day.
After getting home, she found the youngest of the trio comforting the boy, with the monster lying on the couch watching.
"Master, what's wrong?" she asked.
"What's going to happen to me?" The boy cried out between the sobs. The woman thought it interesting that he wasn't scared of being in the same room as the monster woman, or the two more human strangers.
"I have here some adoption papers, if we fill these out, I will become your primary guardian, and the others would be your secondary, and tertiary guardians," Rider explained. "But first Master, introductions. I am Servant Rider, I was summoned during last nights ritual, probably unintentionally, and bound to you."
The youngest kneeled down so her face was level with the boy, and said, "Servant Lancer, at your service."
the monstrous one, instead of kneeling down, lifted him up to eye level, and with a fanged grin said, "Servant Avenger, try not to piss me off too much," then dropped the boy into Rider's arms.
"So, do you want to be part of this group?" Rider asked.
A different sort of tears filled the young boy's eyes, they wanted him! He didn't know why they called him master, but they wanted to adopt him.
Meanwhile, avenger was looking through the papers, and while she was quickly overwhelmed by the legalese, she did understand that they weren't adoption papers.
"Rider, these aren't adoption papers," she said.
"Sure they are, we just need to sign them," Rider said. She wasn't dismissing Avenger's concerns, but she knew that they couldn't delay, otherwise it would crush the young boy's heart and make him think that they were leading him on.
Avenger shrugged, grabbed the quill, and signed it, as well as filling out the appropriate sections according to the instructions, it wouldn't be a great hardship for her, the hour it took to fill out the paperwork, was.
Lancer was the next one, and then it was Rider's turn.
Then it was Harry's.
Each contract flashed gold when he signed them.
It was then that Avenger dropped the bomb about what they just did, "Well, now we're engaged to the boy, when do you think we should get married?"
A triple, "WHAT!?" shook the house, and scared off a lone cat that had approached the house.
Avengers dark chuckles accompanied the other three's attempts to decipher the documents.
In the Department of Engagements and Adoption, a drunk man was being chewed out for both being drunk and handing out that set of engagement contracts to somebody that was there for adoption papers. His superior had seen the legal copies arrive as they were completed, and the name of whom was the male on all three documents, made him want to rip his subordinate apart, as the man had just had Harry Potter engaged to three unknown women.
The problem was the contracts were ironclad and almost impossible to break. In fact, the only escape clause was put in as a joke, as it required a partner to be caught willfully engaging in a foursome with a unicorn, a dementor, and a dragon, and becoming pregnant by at least one of them.
It had been attempted only three times since the contract was created over a thousand years ago, and each time the person died trying.
He did wonder why the contract accepted the pseudonyms though.
EN: Notice how many magical numbers the cultists used ^.^
EN2: Minamoto no Raikō, imagine the carnage if she was summoned. Would make an interesting fic though, the massively overprotective and overly maternal Berserker being summoned for Harry.