Dumbledore's office.
The old headmaster picked up the thin rectangular plate resting on his desk. Palm-sized, it shimmered with a liquid-silver glow, black flecks drifting slowly across the surface like tiny creatures trapped in amber. The thing felt alive in his hand—half metal, half liquid—cool and slippery, as if it might slide right through his fingers.
"Apparition?" Dumbledore's eyes lit with quiet wonder. "You locked an Apparition charm inside it with alchemy. Clever as hell."
Snape didn't look surprised. Of course the man who'd studied with Nicolas Flamel could spot the trick immediately.
When Lucien had handed the amulet over, he'd explained it in his usual calm, precise way. Snape now repeated every detail.
It was an Apparition Amulet. The moment it sensed the massive magical surge of something like the Killing Curse, it would trigger automatically. Regular hexes? Standard shields handled those. But this thing only opened the door— the wizard still had to steer the Apparition themselves. If you didn't know how, you'd just get ripped apart by the space between.
And because it fired instantly, you needed to be damn good at short-range Apparition under pressure. Real combat-level skill. In short, this was expert-only gear.
Snape didn't see that as a flaw. In a real fight between skilled wizards, everything came down to a single heartbeat. The amulet's real job was simple: stop some bastard from landing an unblockable Killing Curse while your back was turned. Survive that one moment and you lived to fight another day.
That was exactly the requirement he'd given Lucien.
For Snape himself, the "high skill" part wasn't a problem. The finished piece met every expectation he'd had.
Dumbledore nodded slowly, turning the amulet over in his hands. He had a pretty good guess what this really was—Lucien's way of paying Snape back for the extra lessons.
"Severus," he said softly, "thank you for looking out for an old man's life."
Snape's mouth twitched, but he stayed quiet. He knew the truth. This "old man" was the only wizard Voldemort truly feared—the only one still hunting him, still chasing every lead on the Horcruxes. If Dumbledore fell, Voldemort would have nothing left holding him back. No one wanted that nightmare.
Dumbledore ran a finger along the smooth silver edge. Tiny ripples spread outward from his touch like moonlight on water.
"Lucien's talent in alchemy is something else," he murmured. "This amulet is genuinely useful. Even the strongest wizard can't stay on guard every second of every day. Something that can yank you out of a killing blow… that matters."
He saw it as a work in progress—room to make it easier to use, something Aurors and careful pure-bloods would pay good money for. But even as it was, it was impressive.
Snape gave a short nod, voice low. "He's got real skill with potions too. A mind this broad is rare."
Over the past few weeks Lucien had kept bringing him questions about improving brews—Wolfsbane, a few others. Snape could tell the boy's heart wasn't fully in it yet, just dipping in when something caught his interest. Still, the results spoke for themselves.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "When a wizard shows this much talent in one field, we thank Merlin. But Lucien… his Patronus is just as unusual. Hard to believe one person can have that many."
The office went quiet for a beat.
Snape stared at the amulet a moment longer, then spoke, almost to himself.
"Maybe the number of Patronuses is just another kind of talent. Proof he's got too many strengths for any single form to hold."