Harry squinted at Riddle and thought as hard as his exhausted mind would let him. His hangover might be gone, but he still felt tired and cranky. "Fine. But this is all tentative," he said, threateningly. "For now, we’ll let the rumours fly about our courtship, and you’ll swear off all your Dark Lording plans. But if we can’t come to an agreement I will call the whole thing off. It won’t be any skin off my nose if I break our courtship." Harry almost felt bad for the threat, but it was true, and he did need every ounce of leverage he could get to corral Riddle. He’d come out of a broken courtship to a muggle-born just fine; Riddle’s reputation, on the other hand, would suffer. People would take it as a sign that he wasn’t worthy of marrying into a pureblood family, or some other such rot.