Creating a Horcrux requires splitting off a portion of one's own soul and then transferring it into a prepared container.
It increases the creator's lifespan, but also "dehumanizes" them.
It's not just the inhuman appearance that causes the wizard to gradually lose his inner self, compassion, love, and humanity, ultimately leading him down a dark path.
Although Horcrux cannot grant immortality like Sorcerer's Stone, they possess a unique ability that Horcrux 'Sorcerer's Stone lack. "Immortality."
Once the first Horcrux is created, the wizard will stop aging, because the soul he seals within the Horcrux will remain in that state forever.
Immortality does not mean immortality; as long as the Horcrux is destroyed, he can be killed.
There's no such thing as a free lunch; this incredibly evil Dark Magic naturally comes at a huge price.
The pain of a split soul, the inhuman changes to the body, and the loss of emotions will keep the wizard forever between life and death, which is commonly known as "never being able to be reborn".
Sirius Black closed the book in horror, not daring to continue reading about how to make Horcrux.
Voldemort actually managed to create something so evil and so contrary to human ethics, and not just one.
The diary, the Gaunt Ring with the Resurrection Stone, and the Slytherin's Locket are already three items; the remaining confirmed items are the Hufflepuff's Cup and Harry.
Thinking of Harry, Sirius Black immediately perked up.
He put the book back in the drawer, stood up and looked at Regulus had already changed his clothes.
"Leave the rest to me, you can get some rest now."
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Kreacher seemed to see Regulus smiling.
It rubbed its big eyes and realized that it had been seeing things.
"Sirius Black, when do you plan to hold this event...?"
"After dawn," Sirius Black, squatting by the bedside as he carefully straightened Regulus's clothes, "I'll keep it simple and invite a few friends over."
"Yes." Kreacher seemed somewhat dissatisfied, but it quickly tidied up the room.
With only a few hours left until dawn, the Black Family's funeral should not be held in such a hasty manner.
But from Sirius Black's perspective, in order not to disappoint Regulus's last wishes, the funeral should definitely be as low-key as possible.
On the other side,
Sirius Black's room.
It's very spacious here, and it looks beautiful even though it's covered in dust.
A large bed with exquisite carvings at the headboard, long velvet curtains above the high windows, a chandelier with candles, a large wooden wardrobe, and several large Gryffindor banners...
Everything in the room looked much more luxurious than Draco's dormitory, except that the posters and pictures that covered almost all four walls didn't match the room at all, and you could only see the original silver-gray satin walls through some gaps.
The motorcycle pictures were alright, but those bikini-clad women posters, which were still easily recognizable even when covered in dust, were really hard to believe.
Over a hundred years old and having seen many storms, Dumbledore looked directly up at the chandelier on the ceiling.
Vincent, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it immensely.
Young Sirius Black had quite the taste; they were all fair-skinned, beautiful, and had long legs, easily rivaling even Miss Universe contestants.
However, judging from their sexy bikinis and faded smiles, these posters, like the motorcycle pictures, probably originated from the Muggle world.
No wonder Mrs. Black flew into a rage the moment she saw Sirius Black, and yelled and screamed at her unfilial son.
This level of rebellion is unparalleled; to call it heresy is an understatement—it's downright treason.
However, amidst the incongruous images and posters in the room, a magical photograph is prominently displayed on the wall.
There were four Hogwarts students standing together, arm in arm, laughing at the camera.
Harry recognized his father at a glance.
His unruly black hair stood up like his, and he also wore glasses.
Beside him was his godfather, Sirius Black, handsome and unrestrained, with a slightly arrogant look on his face.
To James Potter' left is Lupin, who looks a bit slovenly and gloomy, but with a surprised and happy expression on his face.
To the right of Sirius Black, that is, at the very edge, is Peter Pettigrew.
He was short and chubby, with moist eyes, probably because he was excited to meet such a cool group of friends.
But he betrayed his friends, betrayed the group of friends who had been so kind to him.
Harry took a deep breath to calm himself down.
Dumbledore was still looking at the chandelier, Vincent curiously pulled open a desk drawer.
It was stuffed with a huge stack of letters, which had faded badly due to their age.
Harry curiously stepped forward, asking, "What are these?"
"Maybe it's a love letter?" Vincent casually picked up the top one. "We'll find out if we open it."
Harry thought for a moment, then took the envelope and tore open the wax seal.
The letter paper looked new, and besides the musty smell, there was also a faint perfume scent.
"To my dear Sirius Black, I am Mia Jamison, a fifth-year student at Gryffindor. I've actually liked you for a long time..."
Harry quickly put the letter back.
Vincent picked up another letter. "Looks like I guessed right."
Letters that are shoved into a drawer like this are usually not very important, and besides, people are too lazy to even open them. What else could they be but love letters?
"Very experienced..." Dumbledore murmured in admiration.
Harry reminisced about this year's Valentine's Day.
The scene outside the boys' dormitory at that time was truly terrifying.
Fortunately, they weren't in the same dorm room.
Vincent was about to put the letter back in the drawer, a figure suddenly appeared and snatched it away.
"You filthy Mudblood, how dare you touch anything belonging to the noble Black Family!"
"Shut up!" Sirius Black burst in from outside the door, pulled out his wand, and smashed it hard against Kreacher's bald head.
"He's my friend. If you do it again, I will definitely fire you!"
Kreacher lowered his head, silently put the letter back in the drawer, and closed it.
Sirius Black pointed his wand toward the door. "Go do what you're supposed to do. You are not to step into this room again without my permission."
Kreacher left, but he made a point of glancing at Vincent before he went.
Perhaps in its mind, Muggle-born wizard are no better than their enslaved House-elf.
Sirius Black looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Vincent, but our family harbors deep malice towards all non- Pure-blood wizards. Please don't take it to heart."
Vincent chuckled and shrugged. "I'm fine. Some wizards have never stopped being prejudiced against me, and I'm used to it."
A great man once said: Once you become strong enough, all kinds of ridicule, insults and slander will naturally lose their persuasiveness. Speaking with strength and achievements is always the most effective way to deal with all kinds of insults.
It was just a couple of barks from a dog on the street; it wasn't enough to warrant going up and beating the dog up.
If it lunges at you and bites, just kill it with a stick.