Salazar sat at the long stone table in his classroom, every inch of its surface covered in potions and cauldrons and books. He had set out to master alchemy, and he would be damned if a few simple spells bested him.
He read over the ingredients and incantations for the potion once more, squinting at the tiny letters and faded ink. Sand from the southern isles, brown toadstools, a pinch of myrrh. He'd followed the directions precisely, yet his efforts had yet to wield any gold.
He shoved back from the table and paced in front of the hearth. Perhaps he should have started with something simpler, a ring or a chain, but he'd seen the locket at a small shop in Hogsmeade and had not been able to get it out of his head since.
He returned to the table and began the process again in a fresh cauldron. He added the ingredients, waved his wand, whispered the incantations over the bubbling froth of the cauldron, and finally, finally, its contents began to take on an orange hue. He closed his eyes and focused on the memory of the golden locket and its emerald design, hoping to somehow influence the magic at work.
Suddenly, there was bright green flash and and a high-pitched whistle like the scream of a tea kettle. And then it was over. Salazar opened his eyes and walked hesitantly over to the cauldron.
Inside lay an almost perfect replica of the locket he'd first seen in Hogsmeade. Instead of the scatter shot emerald design of the original, this locket had a small emerald S on its face.
He picked up the locket and ran the chain through his fingers, still warm with magic. In truth, he had little use for a locket, but he pulled it over his head and wore it proudly, tangible proof of his new-found power.