Written for Round 7 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction competition. My prompt was to right a story surrounding the Gaunt Ring. Bonus prompts used are (quote) "All that is gold does not glitter" ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring and (POV) first person present.

I look down at the ring in front of me. The ring that is now integral to my survival.

Slughorn really had been all too happy to tell me about horcruxes when I asked, now that I think back on it. And once I knew how to create them, I had not waited long to create the one before me. It seemed - and still does seem - only logical to put the information into practise while it was still fresh in my mind.

Even though it now contains a portion of my soul, the ring still looks almost shabby in my eyes. The gold band has many dents and is clearly old. Then again, maybe it is my perception that makes what would be a glittering promise of fortune to many seem like a dull and useless object in my eyes. I stole it from a mad man, I don't know what I am expecting. I had heard about the ring long ago and it had seemed so grand in my mind. I find myself almost dissappointed by the piece of jewelery in front of me - it looks like something I could easily buy in Diagon Alley, rather than the impressive proof of a pure blood line as it supposedly is. Even the black stone it is decorated with looks like a worthless piece of rock.

Not that it's appearance really matters to me. It does the job it needs to do.

Although it needs something extra, which is why the ring is still in front of me, rather than away in my trunk while I tried to think of a better hiding place for it. Something that will keep the small part of my soul held within safe and protected from anyone who might try to meddle with it now or in the future. It has to be something powerful too - not just any old curse that is easily curable. I need to make sure that anyone who touches this will be irreversably cursed. If they are messing with this, then they would have to know about how I've enchanted it. They must be trying to kill me.

I do not second guess the thought as it passes through my head. The thought does not scare me either. It seems like an inevitability that someone will try to kill me in my future.

I glare at the ring, as if the incantation that I need is already hidden within it's slightly bent metal, and to get it all I must do is look at it a certain way. I pick the small circle of gold up, letting it rest in the centre of my palm. I am surprised to find that it does not feel any heavier in my hand than it did before I attatched some of my soul to it. It's almost as if the ring is simply what it appears to be. There are no signs of my soul anywhere on the ring. I would think that the enchantment had not worked if I could not feel it. A strange closeness with the thing of metal so alien from my own body of flesh and blood.

I put the ring back down on the floor, beside one of the many books surrounding me. I was lucky enough to find the Room of Requirement, and I am putting it to good use now. The Room is much better than the Restricted Section in the Hogwarts Library. There is more information about the magic I actually need, not just the things the staff are willing to teach.

The Dark Arts are incredibly interesting - why the Hogwarts professors do not teach more than just defence against them is a mystery I will never quite be able to solve. Surely we should know what we are defending ourselves against, if nothing else?

I pull one of the books towards me - one that deals exclusively with curses and incantations of the most unsavoury sort. Even simply reading about them as I am, makes me hope that I will never encounter them as they are particularly gruesome.

I continue to flick through the pages of the old book, reading the different spells and their uses. It doesn't take long for one to catch my eye - one that is particularly horrible. One that will kill whoever touches the ring in an extremely painful, yet instant way once I place the enchantment upon it.

I feel almost giddy as I pull out my wand, the book resting in my lap as I read over the pronounciation a few times, mouthing the words that will help protect my soul.

If I were one to do such things, I think that right now I would be dancing with excitement. The curse really is perfect. I have now mouthed the enchantment enough times to feel confident in saying it and therefore I point my wand at the golden ring on the floor in front of me. It is almost surprising, how simple yet clearly effective this curse is.

I can not wait a moment longer and so I cast the curse. The dark grey light that shoots from my wand to the ring last for only a few brief moments before it dies away. Just like after the horcrux spell, the ring looks so different from before. Still shabby and gold and dented. However, I use the powers of the Room to acquire some gloves. I can not touch the ring from now on, not with my bare skin. I laugh darkly as I think about what a cruel irony it would be - to die from a cursed object that I myself had cursed. It would be a fool's way to die, and I am no fool. After pulling the gloves on, I pick up the object to find that just as last time no weight has been added to it. It looks exactly the same as the day I stole it from Morfin Gaunt.

I inspect it closely to make sure my eyes are not deceiving me. However, there really is no mark of magic at all upon the ring in my hand.

The horcrux is complete.