Nico was ninety percent panic, ten percent horny, and one hundred percent winging it.
Three witches stared at him.
He stared back, wearing stolen red eyes and a secondhand Dark Lord face.
Don't mention panties. Don't mention panties. Don't mention panties.
Bellatrix Black stepped forward, her expression equal parts reverence and "I'd help you bury a body for fun."
"My Lord," she said, bowing her head slightly.
Nico's brain blanked.
Hot.
His mouth opened before his thinking caught up.
"…Sup."
Silence hit the room like a spell.
Narcissa blinked. Andromeda actually flinched. Bellatrix looked like someone had slapped her with a dictionary.
Nico's nonexistent heart stopped.
Idiot. You're supposed to be dramatic. Use the evil voice, not the alleyway greeting.
He cleared his throat, trying again, dragging up Riddle's stolen tone.
"I mean," he said, smoothing his voice into something low and deliberate, "good evening."
Bellatrix's shoulders relaxed a fraction. The universe exhaled.
Narcissa tilted her head, studying him. "We hope we have not kept you from… important work, my Lord."
"Oh, you didn't," Nico said automatically. "I was just… in the middle of something."
His brain replayed "in the middle of something" and flashed back to "being slapped through reality and cutting your guy in half."
He swallowed that memory and forced a vague smile.
"Research," he added. "Dark… research. Very advanced. Very secret. Very… dark."
Andromeda's eyebrow twitched. "That is usually implied, yes," she muttered.
Bellatrix ignored her sister completely. Her eyes were fixed on his face like she'd imprint on it if she could.
Nico's goo squirmed under the illusion of skin.
He needed three things:
Don't get caught.
Don't drip.
Get inside someone's clothes.
In that order. Probably.
He decided to move.
Standing still just made him more obvious. Also his fake legs were starting to feel like they might forget how to be legs.
He stepped forward.
The floor was solid. Good.
His foot almost slipped on a patch he hadn't fully absorbed. Less good.
A little smear of red glistened against the stone by his heel.
Oh hell no.
He stomped on it casually, grinding it into nothing while trying to look like a menacing, all-powerful wizard, not a man putting out a slime fire.
Bellatrix mistook the movement as purposeful and shivered like he'd just done something sexy.
"My Lord," she said, voice soft, "you wished to meet with us?"
"…Yes," Nico said, because saying no would raise questions and possibly curses. "I did. You are… the Black sisters."
Nailed it. Obvious, but nailed it.
"Bellatrix," she said instantly, stepping forward, hand to chest. "Andromeda." A jerk of her head to the calmer sister. "Narcissa." A nod to the refined one.
Nico looked at each of them in turn.
Andromeda: big brain, big suspicion. Bad choice.
Narcissa: calculating, money-brain, future ice queen vibes. Risky.
Bellatrix: eyes like a fire hazard, stance like she'd bite someone for fun.
Host material.
He felt himself lean slightly toward Bellatrix without meaning to, drawn by her wild magic and the obvious "I'd die for you" energy she didn't even bother hiding.
Tom's leftover memories stirred uneasily.
Future lieutenant. Reliable fanatic. Keep this one.
Nico's own thoughts were a lot dumber.
Crazy. Hot. Good combo.
He needed to say something Dark-Lord-y.
Something intimidating. Something that would justify them being here when he had definitely not planned this meeting, because he'd been busy being a meteor.
"My time is valuable," he began, trying to sound lofty instead of lost, "so I only grant it to those who might be worth it."
Bellatrix practically glowed at the word "worth."
Narcissa's chin lifted a bit, not wanting to be considered anything less.
Andromeda folded her arms, unimpressed. "That's generous of you," she said dryly.
Nico almost liked her on instinct, which meant she'd probably be the first to figure out he was slime.
He focused on not melting.
"You come from an old line," he said. "You know our world is rotting. Diseased by weakness. Polluted by—"
His brain skidded dangerously close to Tom's favorite blood-purity rant.
He yanked the wheel.
"—by idiots," he finished. "Stupid people. In charge."
Andromeda's mouth twitched. "Hard to argue with that."
Bellatrix looked faintly confused, like she'd been expecting some grand ideological speech, not "the world is run by morons."
Narcissa recovered first. "Our father believes things are… out of balance," she said carefully. "He wants the old influence of our house restored."
"I'm not here to restore the old," Nico said, channeling a line that felt like it had been baking in Tom's ego for years. "I'm here to build something new."
That sounded cool. Did I just sound cool? Nice.
He took another step, closing the distance, testing how close he could get before anyone noticed his "robes" were really just obedient slime pretending to be fabric.
None of them flinched.
If anything, Bellatrix stepped closer.
Nico could feel her magic brushing against his, sharp and eager. It made his surface tingle.
"Power," he said, half-remembering and half-improvising, "needs those willing to take it. To carry it. To wear it."
His mouth had not informed his brain before picking that word.
"Wear?" Andromeda repeated, suspicious. "Like a… badge?"
Nico panicked.
"Yes," he lied. "Exactly. A badge. A mark."
Good save. Ten out of ten. Nobody will question that.
Narcissa frowned slightly. "A mark implies… permanence."
"Some things," Nico said, going for mysterious, "should be permanent."
Bellatrix inhaled like that was a proposal.
Now came the hard part.
He wanted inside one of them. Preferably Bellatrix. He also wanted them to not notice he was a weird murder-jelly wearing their would-be Dark Lord like a cosplay.
So he needed to make contact without looking like he was trying to crawl under their clothes.
Easy.
"No one follows me without proof," he said. "So I will test you."
Bellatrix's eyes lit. "Test me," she said immediately.
Narcissa gave her a look. "Us," she corrected tightly. "Test us, my Lord."
Andromeda sighed under her breath.
Nico raised his hand slowly, palm up, pretending it was dramatic and not just him trying not to drip.
"Give me your hands," he said.
He realized how that sounded a second too late.
Bellatrix moved first, of course. She stepped right into his space and set her hand in his without hesitation.
Warm. Small. Buzzing with wild, unshaped cruelty.
His goo practically purred.
Narcissa joined a second later, fingers cool and controlled, layered with discipline.
Andromeda reluctantly completed the circle, her hand steady and tense, magic coiled but not welcoming.
Three witches. Three possible entry points.
His instincts yelled: all of them. Take all of them. Build harem. Be unstoppable.
His remaining brain cell said: pick one, idiot.
He focused on Bellatrix.
From the outside, it probably looked ominous.
The "Dark Lord" holding all three sisters' hands in a little triangle of power, head bowed, red eyes half-lidded.
Inside, it was chaos.
Nico concentrated, pushing a tiny thread of himself down through his fake skin into his palm. Not enough to drip. Just enough to touch.
Bellatrix's magic hit it like a socket.
Her fingers twitched. Her breath hitched.
She didn't pull away.
Narcissa fidgeted, glancing at their joined hands, not sure what she felt.
Andromeda's eyes narrowed. Her magic prodded cautiously against the weirdness in the air.
Nico split the thread at the last second: one thin, nearly invisible filament toward each of them.
Sample them first. Then choose.
He brushed against Narcissa's wrist. Her magic felt like tight, neat lines. Sharp, contained. Useful, but cold.
He barely touched Andromeda before she stiffened.
Her power surged, pushing back, testing.
Nico's thread recoiled quickly before she could grab hold of it, reflex more than thought.
Her eyes snapped up to his, suspicion flaring.
He forced his borrowed face into an expression he hoped read as "dark, all-knowing wizard" and not "man caught stealing snacks at midnight."
"Something wrong, Andromeda?" he asked.
She held his gaze for a long second.
Then, slowly, she shook her head. "No, my Lord."
Liar. Smart liar.
She was a problem for future-him.
He focused on Bellatrix again.
His goo slipped under her skin at the wrist, just a fraction, like a splinter of cold lightning. Her magic didn't push it away.
It grabbed on.
If Narcissa was order and Andromeda was conscience, Bellatrix was raw hunger. Her power coiled around the intruding presence without hesitation, recognizing "different" and immediately labeling it "mine."
Her pupils dilated. Her lips parted.
"What do you feel?" Nico asked, more curious than strategic.
"Power," she whispered. "Yours."
Her fingers tightened on his.
Nico's goo swirled happily.
He pulled his threads back from Narcissa and Andromeda completely, leaving only the tiniest static behind, nothing solid.
Bellatrix, though, kept her piece.
A tiny anchor of him lodged under her skin, right at the pulse point.
Host: chosen.
He let go of their hands one at a time, careful not to drag goo with them.
Narcissa first, then Andromeda.
Bellatrix last.
Her fingers clung just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"You will each have a part to play," Nico said, trying to sound like he had any idea what that meant. "I'll send… instructions."
Sure. Future me can write emails or something. Ow.
Narcissa nodded, reassured by structure. "We will inform our father you found us… acceptable."
"He is irrelevant," Nico snapped automatically, Voldemort's contempt snapping through him. It startled even him.
Narcissa stiffened.
He caught himself, dialed it back. "Useful, but irrelevant. I do not deal with fathers. I deal with those who will shape the future themselves."
She warmed visibly at that, ego soothed.
Andromeda's gaze kept flicking between him and Bellatrix, like she could sense something wrong but couldn't name it.
"I will expect… more detailed explanation of your aims," she said.
"You will have it," Nico lied.
Maybe. Eventually. If I don't die first.
"For now," he continued, "leave us."
He flicked his eyes toward Bellatrix. "Her, I still require."
That went exactly how he expected.
Narcissa's jealousy flared, then tamped down under training. She dipped her head in a small, controlled bow. "My Lord."
Andromeda opened her mouth like she wanted to argue.
Bellatrix shot her a sideways look that just screamed don't.
Andromeda shut her mouth again, lips pressed thin. "My Lord," she echoed.
They left with matching, stiff-backed dignity.
The door closed behind them.
Nico and Bellatrix were alone.
The silence stretched.
Bellatrix was the first to break it, of course.
"Why me?" she asked, voice low, eyes bright. "Why keep me?"
Nico did not say: because you're the hottest and you look like you'd help me commit crimes for fun.
He thought it very loudly.
What came out instead was halfway between Voldemort's need for tools and Nico's need for chaos.
"You want more than they do," he said. "You don't pretend otherwise."
Her jaw clenched, pleased and feral. "I do."
"You will go further," he added. "Do worse. Enjoy it."
Her breathing changed; he didn't need lungs to hear it. "Yes."
"Good," he said simply.
He took a step closer.
She didn't move away.
Her magic curled around that tiny bit of him inside her, already adapting to it. Claiming it. Accepting it as part of her.
He could feel her pulse, faint but clear. The rhythm of her body. The warmth of her skin.
Clothes mode later, he thought. Start with something smaller. Something symbolic.
"Hold out your arm," he said.
She obeyed immediately, sleeve sliding up to bare her forearm.
Pale skin, faint blue veins, a few old scars.
He stared for a heartbeat too long.
Focus, creep.
He placed his fingers lightly around her wrist.
From the outside, it looked like a simple grip.
From the inside, his goo seeped out in a thin band, circling under her skin like a subtle bracelet made of static and lightning.
Bellatrix shuddered, eyes drifting half-closed.
"It's cold," she murmured. "And… electric."
"Good," he said, again, because his vocabulary was crumbling. "That means it's working."
She swallowed. "What is it?"
"A… link." He searched for words that weren't "slimy parasite nest." "Call it my… favor. When I need you, you will feel it. When you need me, it will answer."
Her eyes snapped back to his. "I can call you?"
He hadn't actually thought that far.
"…Yes," he said. "If you are… worthy."
Her fingers flexed, itching to grab him. Restraint barely held. "I will be."
He believed her.
He also believed she'd do a lot of stupid, horrible things in his name if no one stopped her. Which, honestly, lined up perfectly with how much of Tom Riddle he currently had sloshing around in him.
The band of goo under her skin steadied, settling into place. It faded from obvious sensation, becoming something she'd only notice when it pulsed.
Tiny anchor established.
First host: acquired.
He let go of her arm, slowly.
Bellatrix stared at her own wrist like she could see something there.
"I feel different," she whispered.
"You are," Nico said. "You belong to me now."
He did not miss the way her breath hitched at the word "belong."
She looked up at him with genuine hunger in her eyes now, not just for power.
Perfect. Dangerous. Terribly, terribly convenient.
"Go," he said, suddenly exhausted by holding this shape together. "Spread nothing yet. Say nothing yet. I'm not ready for the rest of the world to see what I'm building."
She smiled, wild and adoring. "You're planning something… big."
He almost said no.
Instead, he heard himself say, "Bigger than you can imagine."
That's probably true, he thought. I can't imagine it yet either.
Bellatrix bowed her head, then, shocking him, sank briefly to one knee.
"I am yours," she said.
His goo wobbled.
"…We'll see," he said, because admitting how much that hit him would be embarrassing.
She rose, eyes never leaving his face, then backed away toward the door.
Just before she opened it, she paused.
"My Lord?"
"What."
"Whatever you did to me…" She flexed her fingers briefly. "Do it again. Later."
The door closed behind her before he could respond.
Nico stood alone in the suddenly too-quiet room.
His shoulders slumped. His stolen face rippled for a moment before he forced it back.
Inside Bellatrix, the little ring of goo pulsed once, syncing to her heartbeat.
Step one: don't get caught.
Step two: get into her closet.
Step three: figure the rest out.
His brain replayed the night's events: slapped from reality, cut a snake-man in half, ate him, put on his skin, held hands with three witches, installed himself in one.
"…Yeah," he muttered to himself. "This is definitely HR-violation levels of weird."
He glanced up, in the vague direction of the ROB's void.
"If you're watching," he said under his breath, "this does not count as me 'learning a lesson.' I'm still mad. And you still owe me something."
The room stayed silent.
He sighed, straightened, and pulled Tom's mask fully back on.
Somewhere in the castle, Bellatrix Black walked with a slightly different weight, a little more purpose, a strange electric hum under her skin.
She had no idea that she had a passenger now.
Nico had managed it.
He hadn't been discovered.
He'd bonded with one of them.
And, miraculously, he hadn't mentioned panties once.