The Locket
Severus hummed to himself as he tapped the last gold link into place with the tiny jeweler's mallet. He rubbed the finished chain with a soft cloth dipped in Mysterio's Marvelous Magical Polish, giving it a luster a leprechaun would envy.
Nice. Very nice, if I do say so myself.
He snapped his fingers and the chain levitated itself into a box lined with royal blue velvet. He'd been experimenting more and more with wandless spells since he'd met Amelia, finding them quicker and easier to cast. The little American magician's influence was increasing daily, he thought and smiled.
"That chain will look gorgeous about Amelia's neck," he said to himself. "Now for the locket."
He'd set the melted gold into the mold last night, letting it harden overnight. He'd removed the locket from the mold this morning and it was ready for engraving.
He'd thought long and hard about the etching on the front of the locket, which was about three inches in diameter and shaped like a heart.
He'd finally decided on a phoenix, wings spread, because a phoenix was a symbol of eternal life, rebirth, and hope—all the things Amelia had brought back into his life.
"Our love is as eternal as the phoenix," he whispered, cradling the locket gently before setting it down on his worktable.
This was his lab, in his basement, where he brewed potions, but for the last few days he'd turned it into a jeweler's shop while he'd worked on the locket and chain.
He drew his wand, for this next incantation was difficult and he'd need every ounce of precision he possessed to make it work. Beside the locket were several tiny engraver's tools, tipped with diamond points. They'd cost him a few Galleons, but he didn't mind. Amelia was worth every copper Knut.
"Intaglio scriptorius!" he barked, moving his wand over the tools, a piece of parchment, and the locket in one smooth motion.
He'd sketched a phoenix on a piece of paper before he'd awakened the engraving tools. He concentrated hard on it and directed the tools mentally to copy the drawing onto the locket.
This was tricky, because if he let his concentration slip for an instant, the etching would be ruined.
He closed his eyes and thought about his drawing until the lines were etched into his brain. When he opened his eyes the diamond-tipped tools were working hard etching the phoenix into the gold. It took a good hour to do this, not because the gold was so hard to cut, but because the phoenix was so intricate. You could see every feather and talon on it, thanks to Severus's powerful photographic memory.
He didn't need to hold the image in his mind for longer than a minute or two once the tools began carving, after that the spell took over.
He was considering a garnet chip for the eye, but no other jewels were going on it. Amelia was not flashy or ostentatious the way Narcissa or Bellatrix were, two sisters who'd been in Slytherin with him, and who later married Death Eaters. The locket would have a pristine simple beauty, just like the magician it was intended for.
He'd even written a line for the back of the locket, in his best handwriting. That parchment read: From my heart to yours, always Sev.
He'd had a miniature portrait of the two of them smiling at each other in their secret glen taken by a helpful Fireflash, who was a closet romantic.
That would be set into the inside after the engraving was finished.
He had considered going out and purchasing a necklace at first from one of the many jewelers in Diagon Alley. But he'd wanted something special, something unique to express his deep affection and love for the fiery Dark Hunter.
Besides, the jewelry in Diagon Alley was overpriced and he couldn't afford much. His advance on his teacher's salary did not stretch very far. Raw gold and engraving tools were cheaper and this way he could personalize it just the way he wanted.
"Mister Perfectionist," Amy called him, and he had to admit she was dead on target. All his potion ingredients were carefully stored and labeled, he knew exactly where everything was, and he disliked anyone using his lab without him there to supervise.
"A place for everything and everything in its place," had been a favorite saying of his mother Eileen, who'd had a dread of disorder and clutter.
Probably where he'd inherited it from. It was something else he and Amelia had in common, he reflected, waiting for the spell to finish.
"A neat freak, I see," Amelia had exclaimed when she'd first set foot in his tiny house, which he'd inherited upon his mother's death. "Glad to know I'm not alone. I used to drive my roommate at the Academy up the wall, I was always yelling at her to pick up her clothes and shoes, she was like a pig in a sty."
"How could you tell? I could have straightened this up this morning."
She shook her head slightly. "I know the feel of a place with multiple cleaning spells and this one has them practically embedded into the floor and the walls. Just like my loft in the city."
"Does it bother you then? It'd make some of my former schoolmates want to run screaming down the street."
"Not me, buster," she grinned, kicking off her shoes. "Makes me feel right at home."
Two weeks before, he'd finally managed to persuade her to move in with him, for it made little sense for her to rent a flat when she could live here for free. That had been one of the issues with her living at Spinner's End. She'd insisted on paying him something and he'd refused.
"But it doesn't feel right, my living here for nothing. It's not like I can't afford it, and I know what teachers' salaries are like, my cousin is one," she'd argued.
"No. This house doesn't cost me anything, I own it free and clear. I know it's the size of a shoebox, but it's all mine. And if I want my girlfriend to stay here, that's my prerogative."
"Severus. I insist," she pressed, reaching into a pocket and holding out two Gold Galleons and a Silver Sickle.
He closed her hand firmly over the coins. "Amelia, when I say no I mean it. Put it away."
"But—"
"One more word out of you and I swear I'm going to whack you one," he threatened, using one of his angry teacher glares on her.
"Fine," she shoved the money back in her pocket. "Bloody stubborn man!"
"Look who's talking."
"Shut up, Sev," she ordered. "I won't pay rent, but I will do the grocery shopping. That's non-negotiable, Mr. Snape."
"Fair enough," he'd conceded. "Sorry this place isn't bigger. I've thought about enlarging it . . ."
"Don't. It's perfect the way it is. It's cozy, reminds me of the beach house we used to rent in the summer at the Jersey shore."
"It does?"
"Of course, some of the rugs in the den are worn and we could use a new couch and maybe a recliner too and a coffee table . . ."
"I know. I've been meaning to get some, but with my salary . . ."
"See, that's why you ought to let me pay rent," she began.
"Amelia," he growled warningly.
She put her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. "Proud as a hippogriff, aren't you? Lucky you have a rich girlfriend."
"I'm not after your money, sweetheart," he smirked.
"Thank heaven. Else I'd have walked away a long time ago." She pulled his head down and kissed him. "Time to go shopping, Sev."
"What, now?" he cried, a note of alarm in his voice. Last time she'd said that, they'd ended up going into every shoe store in Diagon Alley. "No more shoes. Only furniture and rugs," he ordered firmly.
"Hey, no fair. That's like me telling you no books."
"Amy, you've got enough shoes to outfit a millipede. Why do you need another pair?"
"Sev, a girl can never have too many shoes. It's a universal law."
"Never mind. I knew the moment I heard the word shopping I was doomed," he groaned. "Just try not to deplete their stock too much."
"I'll let you pick out the couch. And we can stop in at Flourish and Blotts and pick up those Lost Potions of the Ages texts you've been eyeing for the last two months."
His eyes lit up at that last. "Let's go." He snatched up his jacket. "On the way to Ferarra's Furniture Emporium I'll stop in and tell Mr. Bosworth to put them on hold for me. I saw that sleazy Herman Sidewinder looking at them the other day and I'll spit if he buys them. He isn't fit to touch their spines, he's nothing but a third-rate witch doctor, he can barely read English, much less Latin, and he failed his Potions OWL two times his fifth year. No way am I letting him get his grubby hands on my books . . ."
Amelia hid a grin behind her hand and muttered to herself, "Will you listen to the man? And he says I'm crazy about shoes . . . he'd spend his last Knut on a piece of parchment."
When their impromptu shopping trip had ended, they had a comfy beige Roc-hide sectional, not too pricey, soft like velvet but extremely stain resistant, a matching recliner, and an oak coffee table.
"Great if you've got kids," the sales wizard had burbled at them. "Or are planning on a family."
Amelia had to bite her lip to keep from exploding in laughter, especially after seeing the look of utter horror on Snape's face. The salesman had been totally oblivious.
They'd bought handwoven rugs made in Egypt with designs of lotus' and falcons that moved into different patterns every hour. Lost Potions of the Ages now rested safely on Severus' bookshelf in a place of honor, never again to endure the indignity of Sidewinder's filthy fingers smudging its pages.
Amelia had also bought a pair of snakeskin sandals (they were on sale).
Severus didn't say a word, though he wondered if they ought to build a shed just for Amelia's shoe collection.
It could be worse, he reminded himself. She could be into collecting china dolls or heaven forbid, teddy bears. The mere thought made him shudder.
He blinked, coming back from his trip down memory lane. He'd chosen a locket for remembrance, so she would have something to look at if she wished to recall her time in Britain with him. The mere thought of her leaving left his stomach in knots, a lump the size of a boulder in his throat, and a hole in his heart that was bottomless.
This isn't forever, Severus. You always knew that. At the end of six months she'll go back to her life in the States and you'll go back to Hogwarts and teach Potions to a bunch of snot-nosed brats and spy on the Death Eaters for Dumbledore.
That knowledge didn't change the fact that he was going to miss her terribly. For he had fallen in love with her, all unwitting, and he dreaded saying goodbye. But he knew better than to offer marriage to her. They lived in two different worlds and he refused to ask her to choose between them. It wasn't fair for her to become a wife to a man who led a secret life, who would always be suspected of being allied with evil. He was no good for her, even though he loved her with all he was.
I won't think about that now. We still have three months left and tomorrow's her birthday.
He'd planned a special dinner for her, lasagna and garlic bread and a bottle of Madame Rosmerta's finest wine. He would cook the lasagna himself, Fireflash had promised he'd keep Amelia away from the house so Severus could cook in peace. He was now quite a good cook, thanks in no small part to Amelia.
He found he enjoyed it, even the more time consuming recipes like lobster bisque or curried chicken with vegetables and almond rice. He liked the challenge of the more complicated recipes, the same way he did making the expert level potions in his Lost Potions books.
He'd also learned to allow himself the leisure to create alternate recipes, adding or subtracting ingredients according to what he or Amelia liked.
For this dinner, however, he would stick to the traditional recipe set out by Nonna Amarotti. It was so delicious he saw no reason to alter it. He would also make Parmesan garlic bread, one of their favorites. Dessert would be a killer devil's food cake with double chocolate fudge frosting. Chocoholic paradise.
She had received presents from her parents, grandmother, and sisters, delivered by early morning owl. He wondered what they thought of her living with him, if she had told them or not. What would he have thought, if his daughter had told him she was sharing a house with a young man she'd only met three months ago? He'd probably have pitched a fit. It was a good thing then that he didn't have children. Heaven only knew what sort of father he'd make.
Had he lived an ordinary life, he might have considered marrying Amelia and having a kid or two, but that was not an option. Still, he wasn't looking forward to being alone again.
That's the story of my life. I should be used to it by now. One way or another, I'm always alone.
He frowned, noting the spell had finished engraving the phoenix. He took a small pair of tweezers, set the garnet eye in the phoenix's head and whispered a sticking charm.
The garnet eye winked at him and he examined the locket critically. The design was classic yet beautiful. He flipped the locket over and repeated the engraving charm.
The tools began to copy the inscription he'd chosen onto the back of the locket in elegant script.
That part wouldn't take too long. After, he'd buff it with Mysterio and place the portrait inside. Then he'd slip it on the chain and it would be finished.
I hope she likes it.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
"Close your eyes, Amy," Snape ordered, putting his hands over Amelia's eyes. "No peeking now."
"Sev, what is this?" she laughed. "Why all the mystery?"
"You'll see. Take two steps forward. Stop. Okay, open them." He took his hands away. "Happy birthday, Amelia!"
"Oh, Sev. You shouldn't have."
The small dining room had been transformed by magic into a Roman villa, with a mosaic floor and classical paintings on the walls, marble statues of goddesses and gods surrounding a beautiful marble table laid out with crystal and china.
"I feel like an empress."
"Tonight you are." He took her arm and escorted her over to one of the chairs, pulled it out, and waited for her to be seated.
"You look very handsome tonight, Potions Master," she noted.
He was wearing a brand new green dress shirt, a Slytherin tie, black pants, and new shoes.
"Birkenstocks," she exclaimed. "They're the ones I told you I liked."
"You have good taste, Amy." He clapped his hands. "Dinner is served, my lady."
The pan of lasagna and the basket of garlic bread appeared on the table. A bottle of wine floated over and poured itself into their glasses.
"Severus, this is incredible. What a wonderful surprise."
He lifted his glass. "Cheers. May you have many more birthdays to come."
She touched her glass to his. "You spoil me, Severus Snape. First you make me breakfast, now you cook me dinner too."
"You deserve it, Amelia, for putting up with me. And it's your birthday, after all."
"Twenty-two. Getting old."
"Positively ancient."
"Best mind your manners then, young man," she shook her finger at him.
"Yes, Grandma," he shot back.
"You're incorrigible, do you know that?"
"So my mother told me."
She took a bite of lasagna. "Forget what I just said. You're the best, Sev. This is one of the best birthdays I've ever had."
"It is? But your family's not here."
"No, but you are. My family hasn't celebrated a birthday with me like this since I was eighteen. Too busy, I guess. They send gifts though." She sipped the wine. "Mama Mia, Sev! This wine's one of the best they've got here. What were you thinking, buying this?"
"That it was your birthday, of course."
"Aww, I really love you, Severus Snape."
He grinned at her, she was so beautiful, in her white cashmere sweater with Swavroski crystals about the collar and turquoise trousers with matching white heels with more crystals. "I love you too, sweetheart."
The words came easily to him now, where once he couldn't say two words to a girl, much less admit he loved her. Amelia had changed him profoundly, giving him her heart and teaching him to do the same.
He kept stealing glances at her all through dinner, which was excellent, and dessert, which they were almost too full to do justice to.
Amelia sighed heavily after eating the last bit of chocolate cake on her plate. "Now this is what I call a birthday. Great wine, fantastic food, and a wonderful man to share it with. What more could a girl want?"
"Uh . . .how about a present?"
"Severus, no. This was enough of a present, honest."
"Not quite." He waved his wand and whispered, "Accio present." A blue velvet box appeared from around a corner and sailed into his outstretched hand. "Happy twenty-second birthday, my dearest Amelia." He handed her the box. "Open it."
"Sev, I'm gonna kill you. You didn't have to spend money on me . . ." she trailed off as she lifted the lid off the box. "Oh! It's so beautiful." Tears glistened in her eyes. She lifted the locket from its bed of blue velvet.
"Turn it over," he prompted.
She did, and gasped.
"Now open it."
"My God! Who took this picture?"
"Fireflash. I asked him to," he admitted with a sly grin.
"It's the most wonderful gift I've ever gotten in my life. I love it." She held the locket out to him. "Put it on me, please."
He did, then walked around her to admire the way it looked on her slender neck.
"Beautiful, if I do say so myself."
Comprehension dawned in her eyes. "You made this didn't you?"
Snape nodded. "Pretty much. I couldn't find anything I really liked anywhere, so I decided to make one for you. Still feel like killing me?"
"You crazy wonderful man!" she laughed, reaching out and drawing him to her. "All I want to do right now is kiss you senseless, Sev."
So she did, and quite a bit more besides.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
She lay with her head on his shoulder, her hair a blaze of sunset against the white pillow. She slept rhythmically, deeply, and he was perfectly content to lie here all morning and look at her.
"I love you so very much, Amelia Amarotti," he whispered. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"So are you," she murmured, then opened her eyes and smiled. "The very best thing, Severus. I will love you for all my life and beyond, I promise."
He hugged her to him, burying his face in her hair. "Stay with me. Don't ever leave me."
"I wish I could. But I have to go back. I'll stay as long as I can, beloved. But someday I'll return to you."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Wait for me."
"I will. I'll be right here, or at Hogwarts. Write me after you go back."
"Of course." She kissed him. "Right now I'm not going anywhere, Potions Master. Except to sleep in your arms."
"Good idea." He yawned, then snuggled up next to her. In five seconds he was asleep, and it was the most peaceful sleep he'd ever had.
For once he did not have nightmares of the Potters' death, or of Voldemort returning. Instead he dreamed of Amelia, walking hand in hand with him through the secret glen.
He turned to her and said, "You were right. There really are such things as second chances. And you're mine."
Then he kissed her.
He woke with the taste of her still on his lips.
So, who wants Sev to kiss them like that?
I do!
Reviews keep the author sane, so please leave some!