A/N: *flings laptop through room* *throws hands up in surrender*
Okay how about y'all just ignore whatever the hell I'm saying and sit tight for random updates, because obviously I have no control over what I'm doing and even less self-control.

I really didn't want to update this story but heh, I take what I can get. Many many thanks for all your amazing reviews!

Enjoy :)

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A lesson in banter

They got Ron back the next morning. Roughened up, starved and thoroughly shaken, but alive and well.

The circus had been understandably awed and ecstatic about Harry's news. The lord's sponsorship came out of nowhere, and didn't just solve their present troubles, but negated all future worries as well. And it was Tom Riddle of all nobles… The people were flabbergasted. Nothing was known about his interests in arts.

They praised the gods. Harry knew they owed it to the devil.

Enthusiastically the members got together and reformed the circus. The things the collectors had destroyed were repaired, wagons were given a fresh layer of paint, new clothes were sown. Everything to look presentable, and in the appropriate colours of course, the members were eager to please the man who had saved them from a dire fate in the last minute.

There were even discussions about painting the circus tent in green and silver, instead of the traditional red and white stripes. Harry argued fiercely against it, to the surprise of everyone, and eventually they dropped the idea.

Hermione seemed to be the only one who picked up on Harry's strong dislike for the whole ordeal. She didn't press the subject, but from the heavy looks she sent his way he knew she suspected something. It didn't surprise him, as she was arguably the cleverest amongst them and also the one who had seen him before he had gone to Riddle.

She didn't poke at his reasons, but she did eventually call him out on it, shortly before their first show in their new look. They couldn't keep the circus closed any longer. People, important people, nobles, now wanted to see their performance.

"Harry you still aren't dressed."

"I'll be ready for the show, Hermione, I promise," Harry sighed, heading towards his trailer.

"That's not an option any more, people expect you to wear them when they see you. And look! A few are already coming, quick Harry," she said worriedly. "Just think of them as uniforms."

He glanced towards the city, where indeed a small crowd was making their way to the circus. A few excited children with their families were already mingling about. But those were the usual crop of lowborns they got. The arriving group was obviously highborn, you could see it in the way they dressed and walked. Worse, they were nobles.

In the dying half-light of the day Harry's eyes fell on the first man sauntering into their little circle of trailers. Harry's whole body tensed up.

"Fuck."

Only twice he met the man, and already his silhouette was as familiar as Harry's reflection in the mirror.

"What?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to glimpse what had Harry so enraptured.

"It's him. It's Riddle."

"Lord Riddle is here? Oh Harry, hurry. You'll have to greet him."

Harry stiffened even further. "The twins can do it just fine. You could. Hell, everyone can I don't care."

"Don't be ridiculous. Lord Riddle struck the deal with you, obviously he expects to talk to you."

You have no idea, Hermione.

He was about to head up the few stairs to his trailer but from across the place Riddle's head snapped around, impossibly zooming in on him instantly. He froze as the lord slowly turned towards them, casually strolling over.

Hermione made a series of distressed noises beside him. "You aren't even wearing the appropriate clothes yet. I don't know why you don't like him much Harry, but we really owe him a lot. What should we do?"

Harry forced himself to exhale and straightened, remaining on the lowest step of his stairs. Maybe this way he could at least even out their heights.

Hermione was obviously jittery, but in the end she was one of them, a performer, and nerves were nothing new. When Riddle finally stood in front of them she was calmer than Harry, who stood there completely stiff.

Though maybe that was because she didn't have to endure the brutality of Riddle's focus.

"Mr Evans," the lord greeted.

His eyes quickly seized him up and a small smirk crept on his face when he noted the distinct lack of green and silver in his clothes.

"Lord Riddle."

Hermione managed a graceful courtesy, Harry was trying to remember how to move.

Riddle's eyes temporarily drifted over to Hermione, who smiled at him. "It's an honour to meet you."

Riddle marginally inclined his head. "Likewise, Miss, ah…"

"Granger, milord. Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger," Riddle nodded politely.

As if he held any true regard for any of them. As if he didn't think of them as lower than the dirt under his shoes. It made Harry's skin crawl.

The lord's eyes shifted back to Harry. Hermione immediately picked up on the subtle dismissal, realizing her presence was superfluous, had been from the start. Her eyes darted briefly to Harry, imploring him not to fuck up, then she left them quietly.

Riddle was still a bit taller than him, gods damn the bastard. The lord's smirk widened, either because he once again had telepathically picked up his thoughts, or because Harry's rigid silence was indication enough.

"Looking for evening entertainment, Lord Riddle?" Harry was proud how controlled his voice sounded, almost reaching his normal playful tone.

The lord's eyes lit up contented. "A break from usual habits, so to speak."

"No books tonight?"

Riddle reached into the folds of his cloak, producing a small leather bound book. Long fingers stroked the spine lovingly.

"Just a single companion."

Harry would have laughed earnestly at the man's obsession, if Riddle's presence hadn't been so suffocating.

"Specially selected?"

"I've only read it twice so far," Riddle said, looking directly at Harry. "I'm eager to see what the third time will reveal."

Harry deliberately remained silent, determined to reveal as little as possible about himself.

The lord looked around, his eyes lingering on the green and silver that now adorned their camp.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said, watching Harry slyly.

He knew how much the circus meant to Harry, knew it was his home he had invaded with his colours, his presence crawling into the niches of Harry's peace.

"Why thank you," Harry replied drily.

His tone was acrid, but the words still polite and obviously not the reaction Riddle had hoped for.

"You should change soon though," the lord continued idly. "I wouldn't want you to forget who you belong to."

There was a moment of blackness as cold fury washed over Harry and he was half convinced he had attacked the lord again. But as his senses returned he saw Riddle unharmed, devouring every clench of Harry's muscles.

And something in his calculative stare, something that wasn't cold or precise, but burning and uncontrolled, clicked into place.

The man loved to goad him. He loved seeing him react.

No one at court would dare to stand up to him. It wasn't so much a matter of propriety as it was a simple part of their beings, ingrained in them since birth. No matter how much pride they had, bowing to those of even higher standing was in their nature.

Riddle must be bored out of his mind with them.

But he knew Harry could, had seen him do it. Hissing and spitting, refusing to see himself as anything but equal, trading insults with insults.

The lord was determined to pull it out of him again. Because it amused him oh so much to put him back into place.

Harry pressed his lips together firmly. There was no way he would be able to hide the fiery anger in his eyes, but he didn't need to give the lord any more satisfaction than that.

He had never believed in controlling his emotions, but he did believe in absolute control over his body.

His muscles went slack and he dipped his head respectfully. "I am at your service, milord."

The lord cocked his head curiously, studying him intently for any sign of reaction. Every highborn Harry had come across was fighting to make a lowborn like him submit. They were delighted when he showered them with fake respect.

For Riddle however, Harry's submission was the ultimate rejection.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," the lord purred, spidery fingers lifting Harry's chin back up. "What am I to do with you?"

Suddenly curious just how far he could push the lord Harry replied evenly, "Whatever you want, sir."

The hand on his chin flung to the back of his head, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head up sharply. And still Harry refused to react, forcing his body to stay lax in Riddle's grip.

"Careful, little one," the lord hissed, but his eyes were hooded with pleasure. "I might take you up on that."

He didn't let go of him and Harry could only imagine what a sight they must make. To top it off they stood in the open for anyone to see who cared to look. The nerve of that man.

"I expect an immaculate show."

"Of course, milord."

"You will be in every act."

That was fucking impossible. How on earth would he even adapt their program that quickly? What would he even say to the others? That arrogant, entitled, self-righteous-…

"As you wish."

He had never been good at turning down a challenge.

Riddle chuckled, his fingers stroking once through Harry's hair before retreating. "Aren't you going to show me to my seat?"

Harry pretended not to notice the lingering touch. He walked down from the step, hating the way the action inevitably lowered him further.

"Right this way, milord."

.

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Harry managed to stay in the ring for the entirety of the show. Apparently 'Riddle said he wants' were the new magic words in the circus. They had their practiced routines for their shows of course, but improvisation hadn't hurt anyone yet.

Yet.

Harry ran a hand over his face, hoping to rub the tiredness away. The shows were exhausting enough with his acts when he was given time to recover backstage. Performing two hours straight was insane. And then there was Riddle…

Harry remembered the lord's eyes on him during the show and suppressed a shudder. The physicality of the man's attention was unnatural.

And it certainly hadn't helped with his concentration during the show. He'd powered through on pure stubbornness, refusing to make mistakes despite being distracted.

"V.I.P at six o'clock," one of the twins whispered to him as they passed him in front of the tent.

Harry groaned. "Thanks for the warning."

The twins were soon swept up in a horde of excited children which demanded their attention. Clowns sure had it nice, always attracting the most innocent of their audience.

"Mr Evans!"

Harry closed his eyes briefly as he realized that Riddle hadn't come alone. Slowly he turned around.

"Lord Malfoy."

"Lucius."

"Lucius," Harry accepted and nodded to the third lord. "Lord Snape."

Riddle alone was bad enough. Riddle and Malfoy and Snape after a thoroughly exhausting show? A nightmare.

Harry mustered the three nobles that stood before him and had to supress a smile at the differences between them.

Blondie was once again obviously in his element and obviously enjoying himself, all but brimming with manic energy. Snape had a fascinating way of toning down his presence to practically nothing, his face locked in a perpetual scowl. Riddle stood between them, inscrutable.

"I see you've honoured us with your presence a second time," Harry said, directing his attention back to Malfoy.

"It's the only way I know to find you," blondie laughed.

He handed him another card.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Another experiment?"

"The same. A follow-up, you might call it."

"Were the previous results not to your satisfaction?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Rest assured, they exceeded my expectations."

The card was not in an envelope and Harry carefully folded it open. It looked almost exactly like the one for Riddle's gala, but he had a feeling the lord wouldn't ignore the opportunity to invite him himself. Also he really didn't seem to enjoy his own gatherings, so he wouldn't have one so soon again. Harry tried to make sense of the words and letters, but settled for looking at Malfoy expectantly.

"I hope you'll accept, even if it's just my own humble home this time," Malfoy said jokingly.

Harry tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He really didn't want to step inside blondie's home.

This was supposed to be a one-time thing. One harmless gala for a bit of extra money. Interacting with the nobles on a regular basis was the last thing Harry wanted. But with Lord Riddle himself taking an interest in Harry and the circus, there was no way Malfoy would let him slip away now.

"It would be my pleasure, Lord Malfoy."

"Lucius."

Harry hid a sigh with a short bow. "Lucius."

Riddle stepped forward. "Walk with me."

Harry's temper flared at the casual command, but he turned and followed the lord. Riddle led him away from the crowd gathering in front of the tent, between the trailers and cages.

After their shows many people could be persuaded to take a closer look at their animals for a bit of extra money, but now they were only just flooding out of the tent. The Weasley brothers would only now begin to gather them and the lanes between the trailers were deserted.

The chattering and music became dampened with the distance, and soon moonlight was their only source of light after leaving the illuminated place behind.

Riddle's brisk walk slowed down to a stroll.

"I will expect you at seven tomorrow."

"In the morning?" Harry asked.

It was near midnight already. And walking all the way to Riddle manor took him almost an hour. Did the man expect him not to sleep anymore? At this rate he would be lucky to catch five hours of sleep and his body was exhausted from tonight.

"Is that a problem?" Riddle asked innocently.

Of course it was a goddamn problem. Sleep-deprivation wasn't Harry's favourite way of dealing with arrogant highborns.

"Not at all, sir."

"And dress accordingly," the lord traced his green and silver coloured outfit with thinly veiled glee. "Remember you represent me at all times."

"Of course, milord."

Riddle stopped, looking down at him with an amused smirk.

"So obedient tonight," he taunted. "And impressive," he added after a while.

Harry frowned, considering the directness of the compliment. Apparently the lord was trying a new strategy to elicit a reaction.

"I'm honoured, milord."

Riddle snorted. "Dear me, it's like talking to a dog that barks in response."

Harry blinked at him, keeping a completely straight face. "Woof."

"Little one..." the lord said warningly, leaning down slightly to bring their faces closer together in the dim moonlight. "Predictability is boring. You do not want to bore me."

"We made a deal Lord Riddle, riveting conversations weren't in it."

"It certainly wouldn't hurt."

The man had clearly never hit his own damn face.

"I got what I wanted," Harry said curtly.

"Shame," Riddle sighed. "And here I was hoping to offer your friend Granger a solo performance in higher circles. She's quite talented, I'm sure she would make the best of the opportunity."

That bastard.

Harry had miscalculated gravely. He had thought if the whole circus was included in the deal they would be safe from threats and thus one thing less to worry about. He hadn't thought about the fact that offers would render him just as open to manipulations.

"What do you want?" he pressed out.

Riddle chuckled. "Now you're just insulting your own intelligence."

They remained silent until they reached the edge of the camp.

"Until tomorrow, Mr Evans."

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Harry had to get up at dawn and he cursed Riddle all the way through the city for it.

Before going to sleep he had had to tell his friends that he would probably be gone all morning. When Mrs Weasley had learnt that he would be going to Lord Riddle she had wanted to give him some of her baked cookies to give to him. Harry had patiently talked her out of the idea.

The clothes he wore were thrown together a bit haphazardly. They only had had time to sew new clothes for their shows so far. His shirt was white, which was the closest thing to silver he could find, and from the circus' shared pile of clothes he had selected a dark green coat that was made from rather fine material, but only fit him approximately and he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows to cover it.

If Riddle had a problem with it, well, tough luck asshole.

Judging from the haughtily raised eyebrows, he had a problem with it, of course. The lord's baby clothes had probably been tailored.

"I hope you have nothing planned for the afternoon, we'll need to do something about that," Riddle said.

"Good morning to you too, milord."

Riddle rang for a servant. "Send word to Lord and Lady Malfoy to expect us for lunch."

Harry's stomach plummeted.

"Why?" he asked after the servant had left.

"Tailoring is a hobby of theirs."

Oh gods.

Apparently he hadn't been able to fully hide the horror in his expression, because Riddle smirked wickedly. "I'm sure Lucius will be especially delighted."

At least now he knew why the clothes Malfoy had sent him had fit him so perfectly.

"Not to worry," Riddle continued. "If they keep you for more than three days I'll find a way to pry you away from them."

Harry didn't say anything, not entirely sure if he was joking or not.

Riddle made himself more comfortable in his chair behind the big wooden desk. The servants had led Harry once again to the library upon arriving and Harry was beginning to suspect the lord didn't live in any of the other rooms of the manor.

"Lucius aside," the lord said. "You seem to have a talent for charming people. It will come in handy."

"I'm flattered, milord. But so it seems do you."

The man's quick rise through society could not be explained solely by pure luck or ruthless blackmail. There had to be real talent underneath it.

"Ah, yes, but you are lowborn."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Born with only half a brain?"

"Born without any assets," Riddle corrected. "You are playing with the worst possible cards against people with nothing but aces."

"What cards are you playing with?"

"The ones I made for myself."

Harry frowned. "That…sounds like cheating. Sir."

Riddle smiled sharply. "Only fools don't cheat, Mr Evans."

"For example," the lord continued, standing up and selecting a book from the shelf behind him. "Lowborns aren't taught to read. And so you will learn it." Riddle circled the table and held out the book to him. "One card at a time."

Harry warily took the book from him. "Knowledge is power?"

"And those in power restrict knowledge," the lord nodded and sat back down. "Restrict it enough and suddenly blood is all that matters."

"Careful milord, people might begin to think you don't approve of the system," Harry said cautiously.

"Don't worry Harry, most people aren't good at thinking."

Heavens above that man was beyond arrogant.

"I'm not most people." Harry bit the inside of his cheeks as soon as he said it. Why had he done that? Why was he talking to the lord at all? Damnit why was he so hard to ignore?

"Oh I know. In fact I'm counting on it," Riddle chuckled. "And I'm ever so glad you finally decide to leave the barking and start biting. Though dogs don't really do you justice. You're more of a cat. No matter, both like to be petted."

Don't react, don't react, don't react. Harry chanted in his head while his blood boiled. He was better than that. He could kneel and bow and nod without caring. He was untouchable.

"Still no rise? Such a stubborn little thing. You are searching for pride in places most people lose theirs."

Harry remained silent and Riddle sighed harshly. "Talk to me. Or I'll find other means to entertain myself and I assure you, you wouldn't like them any better."

Harry glared at him. The lord was obviously not going to stop until he got what he wanted. He took a deep breath. The man wanted to be entertained? Fine.

Harry would give him some reaction, just what he wanted to see, while keeping everything he didn't want him to see to himself. He could do that right?

"You said I'm good at charming people. Nothing charms people more than obedience."

Riddle leaned back in his seat, satisfied. "And where's the advantage in charming them if you end up obeying anyways? You're doing all the work without collecting the rewards."

"I think that depends on what you're aiming for."

"Indeed. What I don't understand is why you are aiming down instead of up."

Harry subtly clenched his fist. The man was far too perceptive.

"I have my reasons."

"Everyone wants to rise above their station," Riddle insisted. "Some stop at nothing to achieve it, others are much less ambitious, but all aim higher even if it's just a little bit."

"A few days ago I was destitute, now my circus is being sponsored by one of the most influential lords. Doesn't that count as rising up?" Harry asked sweetly.

The lord shook his head, obviously aware Harry wasn't serious. "I have never met anyone who so obviously ignores his own gifts."

"I am not ignoring them."

"You are using them to stay exactly where you are," Riddle countered. "I wonder, what is it you fear from rising above the dirt?"

Harry clenched his fists tighter. "You make the assumption I have nothing left to lose."

"Right, your little friends. That's it then? Blind loyalty?"

The lord leaned forward and folded his hands on the table, fixing Harry with curious eyes and a half-formed smirk. "Do they know you're lying to them?"

This time, Harry had to grit his teeth so hard he could taste blood. The bastard was just guessing wildly, that's all. He just happened to be very, very good at it.

"I'm not," he snarled.

Riddle tutted amused. "Careful little one, you're slipping."

He was right of course, which made it so much worse.

Harry straightened his spine, forced his muscles to relax and assumed an overall calm and controlled demeanour, almost bored.

"I'm not," he repeated without any inflection.

Riddle's eyebrows rose. "Impressive."

Harry snorted, letting go of his carefully arranged posture. "Did you just compliment me on my ability to lie?"

"It's a valuable skill."

"I'm beginning to doubt the content of your teachings."

"I call it life," the lord said with a smirk. "But for now, let's start with letters."

For now?

He gestured for Harry to sit - bloody finally - and his lessons began. Harry remained tense, half expecting the lord to take out a whip, or at the very least insult him for his ignorance at every possible turn.

But to his great surprise and even greater annoyance, Riddle was an outstandingly skilled teacher.

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A/N: Can somebody come over and protect me from this story? It's bullying me and holds my attention hostage...