“I have reason to believe that Potter is appearing here today, my Lord,” Severus said once he had been given a moment to speak freely.

Voldemort tapped his wand against his chin in a idle way as he thought through what the other man had said.

“I suppose you have surmised who disposed of the ghastly creatures he was related to?” Was all the other man said.

Severus swallowed thickly.  

“I had my suspicions.”

“They were the most . . . cowardly things I have ever had the misfortune to torture,” Voldemort scowled and stood.  “You may rise, Severus.”

He returned to his feet without the groan that tried to eke out of his throat.  

“Where is the boy now?”

Severus couldn’t help but compare the similarities between the dark lord’s and Dumbledore’s conversations.  He thought better of his own hide than to mention them, though.

“With the goblins.”

“Is he really?”  Even Voldemort looked surprised at the knowledge.  

“He has advised me that he has changed his appearance.  I’m not entirely certain why.”

“I have my own suspicions,” His lord answered without elaborating.

A pop announced the arrival of an elf and then they both looked on stunned as the boy formerly known as Harry Potter appeared in front of them.

. . .

“This is a nice place,” He said, looking around the room with interest.

It was.  There were tapestries on every wall, and pottery and paintings filled in the dull spots without becoming too showy.  

“How did you get in here?”  Voldemort demanded, pointing his yew wand at the intruder.

He shrugged.  

“Freaks don’t go the usual routes,” Was all he said.

“Mr Potter,” Severus started.

“Freaks don’t get names.  We’re not worth it,” Potter’s smile was there and gone in a blink.

Severus took a step back and stared at the changes the boy had made.  Potter hadn’t been taking the mickey when he had told him that he had shaved his head.  The boy wasn’t bald, but it was a near thing. Gone were his glasses and also . . . his scar?

“How?”  He pointed at the young man’s forehead.

Potter grinned and pointed to a necklace that he had trouble seeing, despite now knowing it existed.

“Hidden,” Was all he said.

“Tabling the issue of how you got here today,” Voldemort once again stepped back into the fray.  “Why are you here?” His wand was still in his hand.

“Oh.  To surrender, of course.”  Potter’s smile was brilliant.

Severus’ breath caught in his throat, before bearing witness to the rare sight of Voldemort being thrown off guard.  

“And if I killed you?”  Voldemort pushed forward, into Potter’s space.

Finally, the boy’s face became serious, somber.

“You could, I suppose,” He answered, staring resolutely at the floor.  

“But?”  Voldemort pushed.

“I don’t want to die.  I just started to live.”  Potter swallowed hard. “I don’t want to be marked, but I won’t stand against you.”

“You’d let me sweep in and take all that’s yours without so much as an argument?”  

Potter shuddered.  

“Don’t have nothing.  Everything is a lie.”