A/N: oh look, inspiration strikes again on the story I least expected.

Thank you all for your lovely reviews!

Enjoy :)

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A matter of honour

As promised, midday found them at Malfoy manor. Even bigger and more lavish than Riddle's home, however with fewer grounds surrounding it, it stood at the centre of the noble quarter, unlike Riddle's remote location.

Harry had been spared the no doubt extensive house tour in favour of ushering him onto a pedestal and into layers of new clothes with Lucius flitting around him to adjust them.

Riddle sat on a spacious coach to the side, his attention mostly on the book in his lap, his posture too perfectly casual to be anything else than meticulously arranged. Harry had no choice but to stare at himself in the mirror in front of him, resigned to his fate.

"I'm teaching him to read."

"Why, that is delightful!"

Kill me now.

Blondie beamed at him like his favourite dog had just learnt a new trick. Harry managed a half-smile in return.

He sent a vicious glare in Riddle's direction as soon as Lucius turned away. The lord wasn't looking at either of them, but his lips curled into a smirk.

"Dark clothes are a standard must-have, but surely he will need something more festive as well?" Lucius asked, fiddling with Harry's sleeves. "We could go with the trend, or fashion something for those eyes of his."

Riddle flicked a page. "What's the trend?"

"Purple-"

"No."

Thank the gods for small mercies.

"Green," Riddle said decisively. "It fits both his eyes and my crest."

Lucius didn't seem put out by the rejection and proceeded to hold several clothes of different shades of green to Harry's chest.

"And what does Mr Evans think?" Blondie asked him.

That this is the most spectacular waste of time humans have ever invented. And this comes from someone who is used to circus costumes.

"I submit myself to your judgment, milords."

From behind, Riddle snorted. "Yes, apparently you always submit when it is convenient."

Lucius glanced curiously between them. "Now, now, my Lord. We can hardly chide him for obedience."

Riddle finally looked up from his book and his eyes found Harry's in the mirror. "A very devious scheme, to claim innocence while making the conscious decision to follow blindly."

"Some people were born to be ruled," Harry quipped back sweetly.

"We'll make a philosopher out of you yet!" Lucius chuckled, oblivious to the tension between the two other men. Or maybe he was laughing because of it, Harry wouldn't put it past him.

"Well in any case, our Mr Evans here was definitely born to wear fine clothes," Lucius continued, making a few final tweaks on Harry's sleeve.

The last piece of clothing he had been provisionally adjusting was his coat. Dark ebony with green and silver accents and a thread count Harry hadn't known to be possible.

Riddle tilted his head and scrutinized the finished product with an intentness that made Harry distinctly uncomfortable.

"No neckcloth?"

"Too stuffy for him I think," Lucius said critically.

He rummaged in one of the many drawers and procured a simple matching string.

Harry scowled at it while Lucius made to tie it around his neck. "I am not a present."

"That would depend entirely on whether you allow yourself to be unwrapped."

Because of course Blondie would make sexual innuendos while having his hands wrapped around his throat.

Harry forced the corner of his lips upwards in what was hopefully a pleasant expression. "And what if I don't?"

"Hmm," Lucius made, finishing the tie and stepping back. "A mystery perhaps?"

"Or a bomb," Riddle spoke up.

Harry turned his back on the mirror and faced the lord instead. He broadened his smile, leaving it just fake enough for Riddle to see through it easily. "You think me so violent, milord?"

He faltered slightly when Riddle unexpectedly stood up and approached him.

"That depends, do you submit yourself to your own feelings as readily as to the people around you?"

Riddle reached for the string and Harry, fighting every flinching instinct he had, warily tipped his chin up to allow him access.

Riddle's smirk grew and unlike Harry's it was entirely genuine. He unwrapped the tie unnecessarily slow. "Tik tok, Mr. Evans."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Boom."

Something in Riddle's eyes ignited. Just the tiniest glimpse of it, but for it to shine through all the carefully constructed layers was telling. Underneath the façade of smug aloofness, there was desire.

The man was interested in him. Not just the banter, not just his talents or his usefulness to him. He was genuinely interested enough that it showed.

That was…unexpected. Terrifyingly exhilarating. And very dangerous.

Harry wasn't above using it against him to gain an advantage. However for the first time in Harry's life he wondered if that particular dance was too difficult for him. For whatever game they were playing, Riddle was exceedingly good at it. Leading him on and then lose control over the situation was not a position Harry wanted to find himself in. The lord would see through all of his attempts at blatant seduction, immediately turning all manipulations back at him.

The question was whether Riddle's interest outweighed the potential disadvantage he got from indulging. Would it blind him enough to overlook Harry's scheming?

No matter how good Harry was at reading people, the minuscule hint on Riddle's face was nowhere near enough to determine that.

Still. How very…flattering.

Riddle didn't bother to give the string back to Lucius, stuffing it into his pocket instead, because of course he would.

"How fast?"

"Pardon?" Lucius asked, evidently distracted by them.

"The clothes, Lucius."

"Oh. I will give them to Narcissa immediately, my lord, she makes much finer stitches than me."

Harry blinked, genuinely surprised to hear Blondie admit to inferiority. Then again, this was the woman he married. Purely noble blood alone wouldn't do for a Malfoy wife, there had to be a rather long list of her own accomplishments.

"Also, the documents you requested are waiting in my study, my lord. Lunch should be ready in half an hour." Lucius turned to Harry, beaming again. "And please feel free to visit our library to practice your reading."

"A marvellous idea, wouldn't you say Mr. Evans?" Riddle asked, faint amusement plainly audible if one cared to listen.

"Yes," Harry said drily. "Marvellous."

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The Malfoy's library was far less impressive than Riddle's, although Harry had the suspicion that no one could compete with the librophile. It had a lot more room to move though, and daylight entered unhindered.

The big room was inviting enough for Harry to actually consider sitting down and relax as long as he still could, but he discarded that plan as soon as he realized that he was not alone.

A young man about his age laid buried under blankets on a massive couch.

"Who are you? Did father hire new servants again without telling me?" His voice sounded scratchy and Harry could see that his blonde hair was slightly sticking to his sweaty forehead.

If there was one thing worse than nobles, it was their children. Entitled, spoiled and arrogant beyond belief. If there was one thing worse than a noble's child, it was a sick one. In that case you could add insufferable, grumpy and short-tempered to the list.

Harry, back in his old clothes, could hardly blame him for thinking him a servant. After all, what other purpose could a lowborn possibly have inside their manor?

"Well no matter," the young man - Lucius' son, heavens protect us - continued. "Fetch me the Tales of Beedle the Bard."

"Isn't that a children's story?" Harry asked thoughtlessly and immediately cursed himself for it.

An angry flush spread over the other's pale face. "So what, it calms me down. Are you judging me, boy?"

"Of course not, sir," Harry sighed.

"Get to it then," he groused. "It's the one with the blue-"

But Harry had already pulled the book with the matching title out, only now realizing his mistake. He was not yet accustomed to hide is new ability, slow and undeveloped as it was.

The young man frowned and sat up straighter, instantly suspicious. "Lowborns can't read."

"I-…"

"Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?"

Harry decided on the truth. "I came here with Lord Riddle."

"You're his servant? I suppose it would explain your affinity for books. But what are you doing here unsupervised?"

"I'm not his servant," Harry pressed out, bile gathering in his mouth at the mere idea of it.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Harry."

The other gaped at him. "Do I look like I care about your name, you scu-"

"Draco!"

Harry hadn't thought he would ever be relieved to see Lucius, but apparently there really was a first time for anything.

"I see you've met our guest," Lucius smiled benevolently at both of them. "He is quite the extraordinary young man, even Lord Riddle seems to agree. Who knows, maybe you two will become friends in no time!"

Draco's sneer told Harry he did not quite share his father's views. But after hearing his father talk so enthusiastic about Harry, there was no way he could voice his own opinions now. That Harry met Lucius' approval and garnered his attention was obviously not sitting right with him.

Lucius looked between them expectantly, but when both of them remained silent he clapped his hands together.

"Well, lunch will be a pleasant opportunity to get to know each other. I trust you are well enough to join us again, Draco?"

He waited long enough to see his son's terse nod, before leading them out of the library. Harry politely waited for Draco to exit first.

"You must be good at sucking up to people," Draco hissed at him when he passed.

"Why thank you," Harry said drily.

"Don't get your hopes up, he never fucks them."

Harry's eyebrows rose involuntarily at the crude remark. Really, what a fascinating family dynamic.

He trailed after the other two warily, pondering about the sheer and completely unnecessary vastness of the mansion.

Riddle appeared somewhere down the hallway, falling into step with Harry behind the Malfoys.

"Did you have time to practice reading?" he asked pleasantly.

Harry glanced up at him. "No, I met Draco."

"You don't seem to have taken a liking to him."

"Oh I'm sorry milord," Harry said sweetly. "Did I not make my general stance on nobles clear enough?"

Riddle tilted his head as he watched the younger Malfoy pensively. "Charm him."

"What?"

"You like that game don't you? Wrapping people around your fingers?"

Harry scowled. "And why would I want to do that with Draco?"

Riddle looked down at him amused. "Because I'm telling you to."

"You didn't think to tell me that before our first meeting?" Harry huffed. "He hates me already, it will take quite a while to change his mind."

"Exactly, it will be a challenge. Useful practice."

Harry stopped abruptly, scrutinizing the lord with narrowed eyes. "Practice for what?"

He wasn't able to stand still for long, because Riddle effortlessly placed a hand on his lower back and guided him forward insistently.

"Do you remember our conversation about asking questions? If your memory is failing I'm happy to teach you the lesson again," Riddle said innocently, though his sharp eyes promised pain.

Harry gritted his teeth and forced a smile. "I remember."

Riddle smirked at him. "Clever boy."

Gods damn it, why was that man so good at getting under his skin?

"Between not asking the wrong questions and keeping up a satisfactory conversation, your rules are a bit hard to navigate, milord," he remarked wryly.

"I'm sure you'll manage splendidly, Mr. Evans."

Harry stopped again, this time resisting Riddle's attempt at pushing him on and forcing the lord to halt as well.

"And how am I doing so far?"

He was well aware that he shouldn't tease like that, not if he wanted to keep his distance. But there was something about Riddle that he couldn't help but respond to.

"I thought we already established that you've exceeded my expectations," Riddle murmured.

"Hmm. Your expectations must be low, milord," Harry mocked lightly. "I wasn't even trying."

He marched on, deliberately just out of Riddle's reach. Though judging by the lord's chuckle that followed him, Riddle wasn't exactly displeased by it.

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By the time Harry made it back to the circus it was already approaching evening. He hadn't trained at all today, his head was swimming with letters, his mood was low because of all the forced socializing with the Malfoys and he hadn't slept nearly enough last night.

He dodged the worried looks of his friends and locked himself in his trailer for some blessedly quiet hours alone. He was determined to only come out directly before the show, perform his acts and go straight to bed afterwards. Of course things couldn't go that smoothly and his peace was disturbed a good half an hour before the show.

He opened his door to the twins insistent knocking. "What?"

George shrugged apologetically. "Uh, there's this asshole bothering Hermione and we think Ron is about to do something incredibly stupid."

"Like always," Fred supplied, as if they weren't just as hot-headed as their younger brother.

"Okay," Harry sighed. "But why are you coming to me?"

The twins exchanged glances. "Yeah… The asshole is noble."

"Aren't they all," Harry muttered.

"And none of us knows how to deal with them… I mean, we can't exactly tell him to fuck off now can't we?" They sounded hopeful.

"No you can't," Harry said and stepped down. "Where are they?"

The twins pointed all the way through the gathered crowd to the entrance of the tent and Harry's stomach twisted unpleasantly when he saw the familiar dark skin.

"Yeah I know this one. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay," Harry ordered and made his way through the crowd.

Zabini was surrounded by his little friends again, standing way too close for comfort to Hermione.

He saw Ron a few feet inside the tent behind the ticket counter, glaring darkly at the group. Hermione had her lips pressed fiercely together, an expression usually reserved for when she failed to make her newest magic trick work.

The twins were right of course, there was no way for the circus members to actually do something. The only option was to redirect their attention, but Harry wasn't entirely sure that would be enough.

It was easy with people like Lucius who liked the game, quite another thing with Zabini who was young and reckless. He didn't know the rules, but he could feel the power it gave him and got drunk on it without realizing when he was supposed to stop.

"Mr. Zabini," Harry greeted, making everyone turn towards him. "What an honour."

Zabini thankfully took a step away from Hermione to focus on Harry.

"Evans! We came to watch you bend over," he grinned.

He saw Hermione bristling at the comment, but Harry only smiled mildly. Deflect, divert, lead away.

"The show starts in about thirty minutes, can I interest you in a snack?" He gestured to their popcorn and candyfloss stand.

Zabini wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "I'd like to get some entertainment before the show. If you catch my meaning."

He was seizing up Hermione again and Harry cursed silently.

"Either of you is acceptable I'd say," Zabini continued and leered at Harry. "Actually why not both?"

Harry was about to make a calm and charming retort when he got suddenly yanked away from Zabini.

"Get away from him!" Hermione hissed furiously at the young noble.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, speechless.

Zabini looked shocked for a second but then broke out laughing. "She has fire, I like it. But I heard lowborns have no personality, so is that also just an act to please?"

"What we do is serious and requires skill, I assure you none of it is aimed to please the likes of you," Hermione spat, actually daring to take an aggressive step in his direction.

"Hermione stop it!" Harry whispered beseechingly, trying to nudge her away from Zabini.

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Well she's obviously not up for a good time. Is that a woman thing or are you just the only one who's well-behaved, Evans?"

Harry tried for a charming smile, hoping to regain some control of the situation. "Most aren't used to being around highborns, that's all."

"You are though," Zabini pointed out pensively. "I imagine you, ah, keep them company often?"

"How dare you!" Hermione was truly angry now, shoving past Harry to get to Zabini.

"Hermione, listen-"

She spun around to face him. "You can't let him talk about you like that!"

Zabini seemed to find her fury more amusing than anything. "Actually I've decided. It would be fun if she watches while I fuck y-"

Hermione - smart, kind, sensible Hermione - pulled back her fist and straight up punched Zabini in the face.

For a second everyone stood frozen, then Zabini's friends rushed to help him up and Harry pulled Hermione away.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

Ron came running towards them, his expression torn between worry and awe.

Hermione huffed and snatched her arm away from Harry. "He was despicable to you."

Harry gaped at her, after all just a few days before she had talked about prostitution rather matter-of-factly.

"Hermione, shit, they can hang you for this!"

She paled a bit at that, but held her head stubbornly higher. "Worth it."

"Nothing is worth that, certainly not me damn you!"

"Fuck I'm bleeding," Zabini groaned. "Oh you are going to regret that, little girl. This will be fun explaining to the authorities."

With his friends close on his heels he marched out of their camp.

Ron tugged at Hermione's sleeve. "You should hide, they'll never find you in the slums and they'll stop looking after a few days."

"If I hide they're going to come after all of you and I'm not a coward," Hermione retorted.

"Well I'm not going to wait for them to come and kill you!" Ron cried.

"No one is killing anyone," Harry assured them, thinking fast. "Wait here. Don't do anything stupid."

He hurried after Zabini, catching him on his way through the poorer quarters leading to the city centre.

"Mr. Zabini!" he called, walking up to them as they slowed down.

"Evans," Zabini greeted coolly, "You've let me to believe lowborns could actually be civilised, I see now I was mistaken."

Harry clenched his fists, knowing that to Zabini 'civilised' meant subservient.

"She is, usually."

"Well that's not good enough is it? I wouldn't want her suddenly attacking innocent citizens in a bloodthirsty rage."

Harry had the urge to roll his eyes. Trust highborns to blow everything out of proportions.

"She just-"

"There's no excuse for laying a hand on a noble," Zabini said and started walking again.

"I wouldn't report it if I were you," Harry said, trying to sound calm.

Zabini turned back around in disbelief. "Are you threatening me?"

"No sir, a friendly suggestion," Harry smiled, swallowing the bile that threatened to come up for his next words. "Lord Riddle wouldn't like it. We're his property you know."

He saw the effect of his words instantly. Zabini's eyes narrowed in consideration, his brows drawn together.

"Lord Riddle has a somewhat peculiar interest in arts and sponsored a circus instead of painters or musicians, but that doesn't mean he's protecting you. All of you are easily replaceable."

"He doesn't think so," harry lied.

Zabini sneered down at him. "Really now? How about we go and ask him?"

Harry's hands became sweaty. "And bother him with an unannounced visit? Surely you wouldn't-"

"Surely I would," Zabini drawled. "I am a Zabini. If lowborns dare to harass me everyone needs to know. We can't allow this to become an epidemic."

They began walking again and when Harry stood there frozen, two of them simply dragged him along.

Harry could tell they were done listening to him. The thing with words was that the other side first had to get to a point where they would even hear it. No amount of pleasant words could reach someone who already made up their mind.

He might have stopped Zabini from reporting the incident immediately, but Harry couldn't help but feel like he failed.

Riddle had made his point quite clear. He didn't care about any of the circus' members, or even the circus itself. That had just been a way to get to Harry. And attacking a highborn was a mortal offense, doubly so for a noble like Zabini. If he knew what Riddle was after Harry might have a way to bargain, but right now he had nothing to offer.

Zabini's bravado seemed to falter a bit when a servant answered the door and told them to wait in the parlour so he could go alert his lord.

His friends too seemed nervous and it occurred to Harry that this might just be the first time the young men had to put themselves out there without their parents' explicit approval and protection.

"Young Mr. Zabini," Riddle greeted when he entered, his voice barely above a whisper. "And Mr. Evans," he continued when he saw Harry standing there, still held by Zabini's friends. Riddle turned back to Zabini. "And what urgent business could you possibly have with me? Was the show not entertaining enough?"

Zabini straightened his spine. "I wouldn't know Lord Riddle. These circus freaks harassed and insulted their betters. One of them punched me!"

Riddle's expression remained blank, but Harry could have sworn he saw amusement when those eyes shifted to him. "This one?"

"No," Zabini said annoyed. "A girl. His friend."

"Too bad."

Zabini stared at him. "T-too bad? Milord?"

"And here I was hoping you finally decided to show your claws, Mr. Evans. Ah well." Riddle turned back to the confused Zabini. "And what is it I can do for you?"

"Well, I want to have her hanged of course."

"Of course," Riddle echoed and Harry tensed. "And I'm assuming he doesn't agree with that?"

Zabini stiffened. "What does it matter what a lowborn agrees to? Attacking a highborn is ample cause for hanging!"

"Yes," Riddle amended. "But did it happen?"

"W-what? Of-of course it happened! I wouldn't lie to you milord, my friends-"

"Are obviously on your side. So I'm asking Mr. Evans: Is it true?"

For a moment, Harry considered lying. He might even do it well enough to convince Riddle.

But for once the lord wasn't the problem. Zabini would feel deeply wronged and while he couldn't involve the law directly, he would still come after the circus with a vengeance.

"Yes milord," he said and Zabini relaxed notably.

"I see. And why would she do that?"

"I believe she took offense to some of the things Mr. Zabini said. Some of his…suggestions disturbed her."

Zabini snorted. "She is lowborn, she has no right to take offense."

"She didn't do it on her behalf," Harry snapped.

"Oh?" Riddle leaned forwards interested. "Then towards whom were those suggestions directed? And what kind of suggestions are we talking about?"

His eyes didn't leave Harry's and it was clear he knew the answer to his own question. He just wanted to hear Harry say it.

Well if he thought that would somehow humiliate Harry then the lord obviously had no clue what he had been going through all his life.

"He wanted to fuck me," he said with a straight face, making Zabini sputter.

And Riddle smiled, enjoying himself all too much.

"I had hoped your father taught you better, Mr. Zabini," the lord said to the younger noble who slowly but surely turned red. "We don't mingle like that with lowborns, most definitely not in the open. You not only displayed a sever lack of discretion, you also almost lay hands on what is mine. I don't take very kindly to that."

Zabini's bluster was gone now and he looked very much like a berated child. "But she punched me," he insisted subdued.

"Yes. And if you went to court you would win in a heartbeat and the girl would die. But the cause would still be known. Your… interest in a lowborn would be public. The girl would die while taking your honour with her."

Zabini kept quiet and Riddle smiled patiently. "So I ask again, what happened?"

"Nothing," Zabini pressed out after a while. "Absolutely nothing, we had a most pleasant evening."

Riddle nodded approvingly. "I'm glad to hear it. My servant will escort you out. Not you, Mr. Evans," he added when all of them turned to leave.

Harry reluctantly stayed where he was while the other filtered out of the room.

"Mr. Zabini, I guarantee you that the situation will be dealt with, just not so publicly, that is the best I can offer you."

Zabini's sour expression lifted considerably. "Thank you Lord Riddle."

The door of the parlour closed behind him, leaving Harry alone with Riddle.

Harry expected the lord to gloat or burst into vicious anger again, but he was only met with silence, the other clearly waiting for him to speak first.

"What do you want?" he asked, steeling himself for the answer. There was no way Riddle had done that without a gain in mind.

Riddle sighed dramatically. "What does a man have to do to get a thank you from you, Mr. Evans?"

Harry remained silent and rigid while Riddle advanced, as always careless about personal space.

"Well? Go on."

Harry forced himself to take a breath. "Thank you."

"Terrible," Riddle said dismissively and Harry pressed his lips together in annoyance.

"You act well, but it's inconsistent. You spin tales quickly, but don't finish them. You managed to stop Zabini from reporting the incident but couldn't stop him from coming here."

"His mind was quite set."

Riddle waved his interjection away. "Did you even think of offering him anything? I keep telling you to use your talents."

"The Zabinis are almost as rich as the Malfoys, he wouldn't be interested in our money," Harry protested.

Riddle gave him a pointed look. "He is interested in you."

"Well I'm sorry that I didn't whore myself out to him," Harry answered drily.

"You told me you would do anything," the lord said and leaned down until they were on eye level. "So that leaves the option that you didn't stop him from coming here, because you'd rather be under me than him. Am I correct?"

Harry's mouth was suddenly very dry. It took all his will not to break eye contact, Riddle's sharp focus sending goosebumps over his back.

"No, you're wrong."

Riddle leaned forward even more and tilted his head, his lips brushing against Harry's ear. "Terrible."

Harry shivered and took a vehement step back.

"I'm already indebted to you, that's all," he said tightly.

Riddle sighed again, but thankfully straightened up. "Keep your friends in check. All your actions reflect back on me and so far your group has given me nothing but trouble. This incident can be excused as a reaction to the changed environment, but not in the future. Your little circus has become a new trend and much more nobles are bound to visit you. To them, lowborns are servile by nature and they will expect better behaviour.

The lord paused to fix Harry sternly. "I expect better from you, Mr. Evans."

Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the mansion, trying not to think about how much those words seemed to affect him.

He didn't need anyone's approval, least of all Riddle's. There was no reason why he should want to live up to his expectations.

There was no reason.

None at all.

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A/N: I've eaten a dozen muffins in a row and am high on suger. I should probably wait until my heart isn't tripping over itself anymore so I can reread this calmly but all this hyper energy makes it hard to wait so here you go.

Until next time and do consider leaving a comment thx :3