Harry was able to successfully evade his wife for another week, maybe even more. He hadn't even had to go home this time.

He had come up with the most brilliant idea while he was searching through the Black library. He immediately drafted a letter to his wife letting her know that he was planning on remodeling Grimmauld Place the muggle way.

She of course insisted that he come home before making hasty decisions, but Harry got her off his back when he also asked her to send more food. He found it funny that all he had to do to get her to ignore him was to ask for poison induced food. It was also hilarious that she was spending so much money on making these illegal potions and then making all of these meals. However, Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. Any form of revenge was enough for Harry for the time being.

Harry definitely planned to get back at everyone who betrayed him. It was only a matter of time before he found out what he wanted to do to them. He was just buying time in order to come up with the most perfect way to get back at them that wouldn't land him straight into a high security vault in Azkaban.

Quickly vanishing the food that Ginny had just sent by Owl after looking over it, Harry headed out of the spotless kitchen. Harry was proud of himself for how clean he got Grimmauld Place to get. He wasn't sure if the townhouse had ever been this clean, even when there was a family full of witches and wizards that were fully capable of cleaning.

Though he did suppose that the family who lived in Grimmauld Place before he did, the Black Family, would never disgrace themselves with doing a job that a lowly house elf could do. He just hoped they got the memo that their own house elf wasn't the cleaning type. Or maybe he was, Harry thought, he could never know.

Making his way upstairs and throwing a distracted "hello" at Orion's portrait, only to get a glare in return, Harry headed into the library. He had been in and out of the room constantly since he found out how to get in.

Harry had been researching closely into the "remorse" ritual that he wanted to create, but even more so, he had been drowning himself in the books that the library had to offer. Regulus' journals mentioned various books that were stationed somewhere in the library and Harry wanted to find them all.

He occasionally even found himself reading over a textbook that was meant for Hogwarts students. Harry would have been embarrassed if he has been around other people, but being in there by himself, Harry couldn't hold his excitement over relearning all of this knowledge that he previously found useless.

He felt like a Ravenclaw when this desire to learn just to learn started to burn within him. He didn't discriminate based on subjects, either. Subjects that he used to hate, he now loved. He wanted to learn everything he could.

There were moments where Harry felt like he was emulating young Tom Riddle, but it just made him want to learn even more. Harry knew that there was anyone that could create a ritual from scratch, it was Tom Riddle. He had seen him do it before when he created his resurrection ritual. It was a very traumatizing ritual, but a ritual nonetheless. And it worked!

Harry didn't even feel bad when he started moving towards the darker texts. Who was there to judge him? He had to be up and personal with a lot of dark magic in his life, he reasoned, it was about time that he started learning more about it.

Many of the things that he was learning that were considered "dark arts" didn't even feel like dark arts to Harry. He had always assumed that the Dark Arts were spells meant for torture and killing, but he was wrong. He had mentioned that to Orion in passing and he explained it best.

"A lot of what the ministry considers "dark magic" is just magic that not everyone can do. Take Wingardium Leviosa for example. Anyone with magic is capable of using such a charm, don't you agree?" Harry tilted his head and thought about it before nodding.

"Yes, I think so. I don't see why someone with magic couldn't perform the charm," he agreed.

"Exactly, now take the cursed fire spell for example. Fiendfyre. Do you think everyone capable of using that spell correctly?" This time, Harry didn't even have to think.

"No. Crabbe tried to do it during the war and lost control of it. He wasn't the brightest lumos among the bunch, but he could do simple magic." Orion hummed at that.

"So, you have one spell that everyone can do and is considered a Light spell, and then you have another spell that only the most powerful and controlled can do, which is considered a Dark spell. Are you seeing a pattern?" Harry wrote a few things down in his journal before answering.

"So, you're saying your average wizard or witch wouldn't be able to do dark magic? How were a lot of Voldemort's followers able to use dark magic then," Harry questioned. Orion ignored Harry's quip at the Dark Lord's followers and re-explained it.

"Not quite. The ministry regularly restricts dark magic by making it illegal because "it has the ability to cause harm to others." However, you could easily kill someone with the levitation spell. Lifting a person high enough into the air and then dropping them from that height would be easy enough," Orion began to explain, while Harry listened intently. "The ministry does not make this spell illegal." That left Harry looking even more confused.

"Wait, the ministry thinks the dark arts are magics that can harm people," he questioned, perturbed, "I assumed, but I wasn't sure." This information wasn't new to him, but he had never asked how the ministry went about deciding what was dark magic or just caught the dark wizard. It goes to show how in the dark he really was. Orion didn't seem to mind the question and answered calmly.

"The Dark Arts are not inherently evil. There are some wizards or witches that find the dark arts easier for them to cast. Dark magic revolves around emotion. This is why the ministry restricts it. I can bring up Fiendfyre again. The ministry believes that if a person actually wanted to create such an effect that requires so much emotion and control, then they must be using the spell for ill intentions. Because there is strong emotion behind the spell, that is what separates a simple incendio to Fiendfyre."

"Emotion," Harry muttered, amazed. He thought back to the words, there is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it. "So, with light magic, the spells are straight forward. But with the Dark Arts, magic is what you want and feel?" Orion seemed pleased, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Yes. This is why many people lose themselves to dark magic. They become overwhelmed with the fact that they now can use magic to do anything and everything that they want. They just need to feel it," he emphasized. "However, when a person does not obsess over the Arts, they are able to practice magic with an ease that they could never get with light magic. Because the magic deals with your emotions, it tends to do only what you really want," Orion hummed again. "That is why the more magically challenged of the Dark Lord's followers are able to cast the magic. The need and want to please their master helps them along with the magic."

Harry's world had been turned on its side. He had been force fed all of this false information from the moment he arrived at his aunt's house and it was troubling having to sort through it all. He didn't know what to believe. He knew that he could trust Orion and Regulus' journals because they never had any reason to lie to him, but Harry found it hard to get past all of the things that he was told as a child.

Harry had a hard time trusting anyone at the moment. Ever since the information that his friends betrayed him, Harry had been looking over every single thing that anyone had ever told him. Harry wasn't sure if it was just Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, or if it had been all of his friends. What if Sirius was in on Dumbledore's plan?

He shook his head. He could not think that. Sirius always wanted what was best for him. He would be damned if he was going to let his trust issues get in the way of his precious memories of Sirius.

Harry shook his head to rid himself of the self-deprecating thoughts and slowly trailed his fingertips across the rough spines of the aging leather books. Having to lean closer to read the tiny script of the titles, Harry could smell the mellowness of the old pages. He was looking for a specific book within the expanse of the old library. A book that would help.

In order for Harry to figure out where to start with making the ritual, he had to really analyze what the Secrets of the Darkest Art said about fixing the soul.

"Creating a horcrux is one of the magical darkest practices invented (though this is debatable) and is excruciatingly painful. However, the reversal is more so. The creation of a Horcrux can be reversed with the true feeling of remorse, though the effects of this can be fatal to the spirit of the wizard - so far that it may result in the loss of magical abilities."***

Harry could tell from the passage that it might just be possible to replicate remorse. Harry hoped that without the original creator actually feeling real remorse that it would not feel as painful as the text mentioned. However, looking further into the word itself, Harry found that the ritual might be harder than he thought.

Since he found out that a horcrux could be reversed through the use of remorse, Harry had been using remorse and guilt in synonymous ways. Taking a look at both definitions, however, Harry found that they were quite different.

Guilt, specifically, Harry found, had to deal with the self. When a person felt guilty of something, they would feel as if they went against their own moral compass and that they were now a "bad" person. In other words, feeling guilty was basically saying "I did this thing that I usually consider bad, so now I am a bad person."

Remorse however, while similar, was a totally different thing, to Harry's understanding. He wanted to get the ritual extremely accurate, so he was going to even these lengths. Like with guilt, a person would be going against their moral compass, however, the thing that differentiates them would be that the person would not consider themselves a bad person because of the act.

Harry felt that Tom might have been able to feel a small bit of remorse with that information, but as he read on, he found something else even more startling. To feel remorse, the specific person has to want to change their behavior. Tom had done the horcrux ritual too many times to even feel remorse for a single one.

When feeling guilt, the person is usually able to continue the bad behavior, but with remorse, the person understands what they did wrong, and moves on while also changing their behavior.

That specific reason was why Harry felt he was the best person to replicate remorse. He knew that horcruxes were bad and he would definitely be able to feel what the ritual needed in order to move on from that.

Taking a few books on dark rituals off the shelves, Harry carried them to the small reading table. The ritual he was planning on creating was of dark nature. It had to be, he thought. The emotion that he had to put behind the spell was proof enough.

Harry had a few ideas on how he wanted to go about with the ritual, but he wasn't exactly sure on the wording as of yet. He knew that it was most likely going to be in latin, as the magical language was most familiar to him, but he wasn't sure on the most magical alignment of words.

He knew that Hermione had created a few spells in her day, and wondered if he should just ask her about it, but he stopped himself. He spent his entire Hogwarts career, and a lot of his Auror career, going straight to Hermione when he needed help on the smallest thing. He did not want to depend on Hermione or any of his other friends ever again.

Either way, Harry thought that his new shine to learning was something that Harry deeply enjoyed and was going to continue with, without the likes of Hermione Weasley.

In the pile of books that Harry had taken off the shelf, one book caught his attention. Ritual Creation. No author and a simple name. He believed that it must have been older than most of the other books within the library due to its haggard appearance. There were thin lines running down the spine of the book, proving that it had been read many times before. Harry briefly thought about asking Orion if he had read the book, before remembering his previous declaration.

The book was thick and heavy to the touch. The leathery cover had cuts all over it, something that Harry thought looked suspiciously like nail marks. He remembered Hermione cutting her nails, specifically so she wouldn't damage any of the Hogwarts books. The book smelled as old as all of the other books, but Harry knew that it must have been much older.

Opening the cover, Harry read on.

The book was filled with many different types of rituals that Harry had never heard of, and some that he was familiar with. They all had the directions on how to use them to the best of their abilities. Harry was particularly interested in the Blood Protection Ritual. It sounded very similar to what his mother must have done when Voldemort came to kill them.

In order for the ritual to be cast, his mother must have quickly drawn a set of runes around his crib in her own blood. Then she must have used herself as the sacrifice to save Harry. That is what Harry got out of it anyways. It just reinforced Harry's image of how powerful his mother really was.

Deciding that he was going to include parts of said ritual into his own ritual, Harry slowly wrote out the ingredients and instructions in his old leather bound journal that he had stolen from Regulus' room. So far, Harry had figured out what type of protection circle he was going to use, and all of the ingredients that he was going to need. He was deciding whether or not he was going to perform the ritual naked, but he was back and forth on the idea. On one hand, being naked brought him closer to the magic and helped with the overall performance of the ritual, but he also knew that it wasn't practiced as much in today's time.

In the end, he decided to just perform the ritual naked because it wasn't as if other people were going to be around.

Harry had also been tossing around the idea of performing the ritual by himself to see if it worked. He didn't want to publish his findings only for it not to work. He knew that it meant he was going to either find someone that had created a horcrux or do it himself. He wasn't keen on the latter so he dismissed the idea.

It actually gave Harry a brand new idea that he was excited to start planning. However, gathering enough ingredients to perform two horcrux rituals was going to take a few days at the most, so he needed to set everything up before he set his idea into effect.

He knew his plan was a little dark, but Harry didn't find it himself to care. They were going to get what was coming to them either way.

This way, it would actually be useful to him.

Harry had set the attic up in place of a ritual room.

The protection circle was already carved into the hardwood floor that had been magically reinforced. The ingredients were set aside in a neat manner, ready for use as soon as the guests of honor arrived.

Harry chuckled slightly at the thought of what was about to come. He couldn't believe that he was about to do this. He knew there was probably something wrong with him if he was even considering doing this. But Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. Something that had been happening a lot recently. Especially in terms of these people.

He had invited Ginny, Ron, and Hermione over to "look at the renovations he made in the attic." They sounded excited in their letters; so ready to see Harry. They didn't think anything was wrong. That just showed how much they actually knew him. They couldn't even tell when Harry was upset.

He heard a hollow knocking on the front door from down stairs and looked over everything, making sure everything was perfect. He ran down the stairs in record time, something that was impressive for someone of his age, and stood in front of the door.

Every person that he hated was currently standing on the other side of the door. He wanted to smirk with the thoughts of what was going to become of them.

He grabbed the doorknob and opened the door with a loud creak. His three best friends stood before him, smiles stapled on their faces. He was quick to push them up the stairs, pleasantries passing between the four of them. The attic door was shut, hiding away the horrors of what was on the other side.

Ron and Hermione were the most excited, not knowing the fate that awaited them. Hermione thought Harry was so great for wanting to get back to their roots. Ron just had never thought it possible to do renovation by muggle means. Ron was always there to remind everyone around him that he was the stupidest person they had ever met.

Ginny, while smiling, didn't insert herself into the conversation. She was still upset that Harry had been staying at Grimmauld Place. Though, Harry didn't think she would ever guess what he had actually been up to.

Harry slid his hand down the rough and lined attic door, tapping his nail against the wood.

"You guys are going to love this!"

He pushed the door open with a loud creak and ushered them inside. Once they were inside, they were looking around with confused expressions. Hermione, however, was the first to react. Her wand was in her hand quicker than you could say "hello" and was pointing it at Harry.

Harry was quicker, however. Two quick flicks of his wand, the elder wand, Ron and Hermione slammed to the floor, both stunned with surprised expressions etched across their faces. Harry hadn't forgotten about Ginny who sent a hex his way, supposedly thinking they were going to duel. Harry didn't have those reservations, however. His wand was aimed straight at her head when he said the words,

"I found your diary, Ginny," he said calmly. The horror filled face was enough to fuel Harry's patronus for the rest of his life. "Imperio!"

Ginny's eyes that Harry used to think were so beautiful lost their color and she found herself under Harry's will. Harry laughed at the irony of the situation. Harry knew he was acting unlike himself, but he also knew that he was acting in the moment. He supposed that this was his true self, a self that would not be controlled by other people. A self that would control other people. Harry literally had Ginny's life in his hands and he never felt more in control of himself. He moved on.

He forced Ginny to stand near Ron and Hermione. Ginny raised her wand at Harry's will and shot a quick killing curse at Hermione. Ron would be later.

Harry was planning on forcing Ginny to create two horcruxes using Hermione and Ron's murders. He thought that would be a sufficient transpire of revenge. Plus, he didn't need to do it himself anymore.

Under the imperious, Ginny began playing out the steps of creating a horcrux that Harry memorized by now. The first step was done now. She had killed Hermione, successfully starting the ritual.

Harry grabbed the mortar off the small table of ingredients and placed it on the table next to it. In the background Ginny was cutting off Hermione's fingers. Once she brought the finger to the mortar, she used a knife on the table to cut off one of her own fingers. Harry knew she could have used something less obvious, but he thought it was funny considering Peter Pettigrew doing it back in the day.

Ginny began to grind up the fingers in the mortar, ignoring the bleeding hand squirting out blood like crazy. Harry magically cleaned the blood up before it hit the ground, but wasn't moving to heal Ginny's hand. She would be able to go a few more minutes without losing that much blood.

After about ten minutes of that, Harry having already healed her, Ginny moved the mix to the cauldron that he had set up for her. She quickly began brewing the potion that was needed. She diluted the mix with snake venom before adding an infusion of Wormwood. The Secrets of the Darkest Art listed the instructions to making a horcrux in the seventh chapter and Harry was glad that it was so detailed.

The potion brewed for a few minutes, Harry having to shoot Ron with another stupify. After she was done, Ginny swallowed the potion, not even cringing at the taste. She went to the ingredients table and grabbed one of the trinkets that Harry was planning on selling. She was quick to cut her hand open again and bleed over the object.** A faint white shine appeared over the object and it filled Harry with excitement. The horcrux ritual took.

Setting the object aside, Harry willed Ginny to do the exact same thing to Ron. There was more resistance with this order, but soon Harry's will overtook Ginny's completely. Harry found it funny that she even thought she might be able to resist him.

Doing the ritual once more, Ginny used another trinket to create the Ron horcrux. The more time that went on, the more Harry got excited for what was to come.

Harry ran his fingers over the carves on the floor. They were smooth to the touch, having been made with magic. He forced Ginny to stand in the corner and turn around while he was performing the ritual. His clothes came off with a flick of the elder wand and landed outside of the circle in a neat pile.

He planned on using the elder wand for this ritual based on the sole fact that he really wanted it to work. He assumed that with using the most powerful wand in the world, the ritual would definitely work. He knew that he could probably do everything he had done tonight wandless, but he was paranoid that it wouldn't work. He wanted to test out his ritual, but also enact revenge on his supposed friends.

The faces that they had made before they died was something that made Harry extremely happy. He could tell that they were feeling betrayed. They hadn't even heard him when he had told Ginny that he had found the diary, so they had no idea why he was doing this. Just like he had no idea why they did what they did to him. He was glad that they died thinking he had betrayed them. They deserved what they got. Ginny was going to deserve what she got. He only hoped that she survived the pain of the ritual he was about to do on her. He knew she wasn't as magically powerful as Tom was, so who knew if her magic would heal her in time.

He cut into his palms and let them bleed over the floor, his magic letting his blood flow slowly into the cavities of the floor. He didn't heal himself until the blood filled the runes. Using the elder wand, Harry began to mutter the incantation of the ritual. He was pushing every feeling of remorse that he had ever had into the incantation. He repeated himself over and over until he felt the Hermione object begin to rattle.

He opened his eyes that had closed in the emotions of everything and stared at the object. He could see the greyish-blue soul piece floating slowly above the object. His eyes widened and he resumed the incantation staring straight at the object. He said it faster and faster as the soul piece flew straight into Ginny's back, causing her to fall to her knees despite the imperious he had her under.

He couldn't believe his eyes. His body was filled with adrenaline. His ritual had worked.

Ignoring the pained groans that Ginny was managing to get out from under the imperious, Harry repeated the ritual on the Ron object. He felt himself getting exhausted, but pushed on. He had enough magical reserves to finish the job.

One last time, the greyish-blue soul piece flew straight into Ginny's back as her increasingly louder groans filled the room.

Breathing heavily, Harry felt a slight burn beneath his eyes that he just knew was caused by his eyes glowing with power. He didn't even need a mirror to be able to tell. He stood on shaky legs, willing his clothes back onto his exhausted body. His muscles felt like they had just been working for three straight days. Grabbing the elder wand that had fallen from his grasp during the last ritual, Harry pointed it at the groaning Ginny.

Ginny fell backwards as she was released from the imperious curse that she had been under for hours. The screams that left her mouth would have made a banshee jealous. Harry kneeled next to her, his glowing eyes glinted down at her.

"Does it hurt, Ginny," he asked, softly. Her eyes found him as they were shaking widely. She tried to stutter out a response, but was cut off by a stabbing pain in her chest. All screams stopped and she stared back up at Harry.

"Y-you-" She was cut off by Harry's soft 'shhh.'

"It's over, Ginny. You're dying, now," he stated very clinically. His eyes never left hers. He wanted to watch as the life left her body. She no longer had horcruxes to keep her alive. And he had just stabbed the knife she used to create the potions into her chest. She was feeling all of the pain, but she could not release any sound.

A tear slowly leaked out of her eyes as she watched him, knowing exactly what was happening. He tilted his head at her.

"You shouldn't have done that, Ginny," he pressed her beautiful red hair out of her face, ignoring the flinch that came with it. "You know how angry I get." His face furrowed up into a snarl and with one last glare he pressed the knife in further, puncturing her heart.

Ginny Potter was dead.

After vanishing the bodies and evidence, Harry was exhausted beyond belief. The excitement and adrenaline that he got from successfully performing the ritual only lasted so long. Not long after cleaning up, he went down stairs to Regulus' bedroom, completely missing the shocked looks of the portraits who heard everything from in the attic. Only Orion who had suspected this was going to happen had a smirk ingrained on his face.

Harry gently laid himself on his bed and briefly chuckled, thinking about how Ginny was never going to see her family in the afterlife as a side effect of making a horcrux. This was the best revenge that Harry could have ever made. He wished he had made Ron and Hermione make horcruxes before he made Ginny kill them. It would have been even more funny. And with that thought, Harry's mind fell asleep.

When he awakened he was met with pure white. He looked around and noticed that he didn't have any clothes on. Figuring out where he was, he willed clothes onto his body and began walking around.

Had he died? He hoped not. Harry knew that he was magically exhausted, but he wasn't that magically exhausted. Plus, he had so many things that he wanted to do now that he created the ritual - he aptly decided to call his ritual Remorseful Resurrection Ritual. He had been planning on having it discreetly published so that if what Tom did ever happened again, they would be able to fix their own mess.

Harry had also thought that he would look into the possibility of time travel. He knew that time turners only got better after all the years, but they still couldn't go back more than one month. And even going back one month was extremely regulated. The ministry had put a safety limit on time turners because of what Harry was thinking about right now. The ministry didn't want people going years back in time and messing up the fabrics of time or even stopping something that needed to happen - like fate.

Harry wanted to go back and use his ritual on Tom. That much was obvious. He knew that he would never be able to get help on the project because it was extremely illegal to even think about. Harry didn't care much about that either way because he had literally just murdered his wife, and had forced his wife to murder his best friends. He was sure if the ministry was going to arrest him from something, it wasn't going to be because he was thinking about time travelling.

Either way, Harry didn't think any of that mattered right now because he was supposed dead. He wondered if perhaps he was in limbo for forcing Ginny to make a horcrux. He hoped not. He really wanted to see Sirius. Though, Harry supposed that he might not want to see Harry if any of his family had been watching Harry.

Shaking his head, Harry began walking around more.

"Hello," he called out, wondering if even Dumbledore would show up. What he didn't expect was a woman dressed in all black walking his way.

"Master," she said in awe. Harry looked around, just making sure she was talking to him.

"I'm sorry?"

The woman chuckled and stared at Harry with wide black eyes.

"You are my master, Harry Potter. I am Death." Straight forward, it would seem, Harry thought.

"I'm the master of death? That's a real thing?" Harry remembered the story from during the war. He assumed it was a stupid children's story, but Death was literally talking to him, so who was he to say it wasn't true.

"Yes, Master. You must be wondering why I've called you here," she grinned at his confused face.

"Yes, actually. I didn't think I was magically exhausted enough to die. And please, just Harry."

"Of course, Harry. And no, you did not die," she waved her hand and the pure white room went away and was replaced by a normal look office. The woman, Death, sat behind the desk and folded her hands on the table. Harry took the que and sat in the chairs in front of the desk. "You did not die," she repeated, "I have called you here because of something that you did." Shit, Harry thought, was what he did illegal in the afterlife too?

"Please… be more specific," Harry asked, tense and alert. Death grinned at his discomfort.

"No, Master, Harry, you are not in trouble. I am actually talking about the fact that you have finally killed someone." Harry shook his head incredulously. What was she talking about?

"What are you talking about? I've killed a lot of people before. Why didn't you call me then?"

Harry wasn't exactly sure where this meeting was going, but he was glad that he wasn't in trouble for his little revenge act yesterday. He would have been quite embarrassed if his plans were stopped as soon as started them. Even Tom went over thirty years before anyone found out his plans.

"Because you were not the master of death then," she explained, calmly. "You became master of death when you disarmed…" she looked at a piece of paper, "Draco Malfoy. Once you did that, you were owner of the fabled Invisibility Cloak, Resurrection Stone, and then finally the Elder Wand." Harry raised his hand, somewhat uncomfortable with the atmosphere in the room. Death nodded towards him.

"If that's the case, then why did you do this whole meet up when I killed Voldemort?" Death hummed.

"That's a good question. I would have loved too, but Voldemort barely had even a percent of soul in his body at the time of his death, so as the younger people would say, it didn't count," she chuckled and began moving about papers on her desks. She pulled out a piece of paper from the pile and quickly skimmed it.

"Now, what I wanted to talk about, now that you have killed a person, is what is going to happen now that you are Master of Death. Obviously with such a title, there are going to be quite a few jobs that you will have to take care of. Although, you do not have to do it all at once since you literally have forever to do it. However, the jobs will just continue to get worse so I would not recommend to put it off for that long because you might have forever, but you will definitely spend forever doing work if you put it off for too long," Death explained. She looked at Harry's wide eyes and grinned.

She clapped her hands and leaned forward, "Now, any questions?"

*** I reworded original text in order to suit my needs.
This is the original text:
Creating a horcrux is one of the magical darkest practices invented (though this is debatable) and is exrusiatingly painful. However the reversal is more so. The creation of a Horcrux can be reversed by (its creator by truly feeling remorse), though the effects of this can be fatal to the spirit of the wizard - so far that it may result in loss of magical abilities.

It suggests that the creator is the only one that can reverse the process, but I wanted to have Harry use the ritual to reverse the process. This was chapter seven of the Secrets of the Darkest Art

**She was quick to cut her hand open again and bleed over the object.**
In the official instructions to create a horcrux, you must wait 26 hours before doing this, but I didn't want to wait that long, so I made it instantly.