Disclaimer: Hepzibah Smith belongs to JK Rowling.
A/N: 'S' is the classical Roman numeral for one half. The title of this chapter should read "Interlude Two and a Half." (Seriously, I had so many reactions that they needed their own chapter.)
PSA: On the Through the Griffin Door podcast, the reviewer PlainJane97 suggested a theory that as far as I can tell, somehow, literally no one has suggested before, and yet makes perfect sense: Tom Riddle did not own a muggle diary…He stole Myrtle's diary!
This theory has since then been made into a SuperCarlinBrothers YouTube video, which is worth checking out. It makes too much sense not to share, so now you know.
Interlude IIS: The Half-Blood Prince, Day 4
Minerva waited after dinner for Albus and Severus to come back up to her office, still mulling over Potter's idea of reading ahead in the book privately. She hadn't had time to read tonight's chapters in advance of their group book reading, but she thought she could set aside a bit of time tomorrow afternoon to look ahead—only a quick skim, perhaps glossing over the less important details. There was still another Quidditch match to hear about, for example, which while entertaining, wouldn't be important to the war.
She wasn't sure herself why the idea had sounded so profound to her when Harry had said it—wasn't sure why she was even considering it now. For a public reading, certainly it was the only sensible thing to do, but only two other people would read this book in the foreseeable future, and she trusted…well, she definitely trusted Albus. Severus had given her strong proof of his trustworthiness—his Patronus—proof that Albus considered ironclad, and she didn't have much reason to disagree. And yet, something in her wanted that extra bit of control over what was still an extremely chaotic situation—to actually get on top of things for once.
Still that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, they had another reading session where she would be in the same boat as Albus and Severus, and if the previous few nights were any indication, it would be a depressing one.
Albus has his own thoughts to contend with that evening. In addition to Minerva's rather disturbing question about Alastor's eye—one he was surprised he had never asked, himself—young Harry's visit earlier had reminded him of another complication. The public book reading, either tomorrow or the next day, was quite likely to reveal Sybill's second prophecy, and indeed that she was a true prophet to begin with. And given that it was her second prophecy, it might lead people to ask awkward questions about her first prophecy.
On its own, this was not a great concern. Voldemort already knew all he needed to know about Sybill. Her prophecy of two years ago was fulfilled the very night it was given (or at least it was when Voldemort had returned). And her first prophecy, as he had told Amelia, was chiefly useful for preoccupying Voldemort's time while they continued to move against him.
No, the concern was that people might start asking awkward questions about Harry. The boy had more than enough attention on him as it was. And it might lead to more people on both sides of the war snooping around and causing mischief around the Department of Mysteries, thus complicating their plans there.
But on the whole, he decided, it was only a minor issue. He would make a note of it in his report to Amelia, but he had no reason to interfere with the reading.
Severus was in a bad mood. Many of his students would say that was normal for him, and there was some truth to that. But this was worse than usual. The public book readings were tedious at best, and he had been fuming ever since the recounting of the boggart version of himself in that horrible outfit, not to mention everything else that had happened that year. (He would never admit it—he barely even admitted it to himself—but he really was angry about missing out on the Order of Merlin.)
The private book readings were no better. While they were ostensibly leading them to a swift resolution to the war, it came at the cost of wading through thousands of pages of drivel about Potter's life interspersed with harsh reminders of his own shortcomings, all filtered through the point of view of someone who hated him. All this for insights into how to defeat the Dark Lord that could probably be summarised in a few pages if they knew where to find them.
Plus, he had a nasty suspicion about what Draco's assignment from the Dark Lord was, and how Albus would respond to it. In fact, he had himself considered reading ahead in the book. But in addition to not having the time (even being done teaching, these readings were making him horrendously busy), with the future books locked in the Headmistress's Office for security reasons, he was unsure he could get a copy without raising her suspicions.
He decided he would at least wait until Friday after the public readings were finally done before trying to do something about that. For today, he joined Minerva and Albus at the usual time for their normal evening reading.
Chapter 20: Lord Voldemort's Request
"Those memories were disturbing and gave me several new reasons to be glad I never overlapped with Tom Riddle in school," Minerva said with a shiver. Seeing the young Voldemort flirting with an elderly witch who didn't have the sense to realise she was being played, only to then kill her and take her treasures, was an experience she didn't need.
"Was the second memory before or after you started teaching here?" Severus asked.
"After, by several years, but I did not cross paths with him that night, thank Merlin."
"It may have been better if you had," Albus suggested. "He could not have attacked you openly at that time, and it could have given us clues as to his intent."
"Then you don't believe it was only the curse on the Defence Position?" Severus asked.
"From what I know of Voldemort, it does not feel like a risk he would take—to come to me directly, risking discovery, for such an uncertain benefit as placing that curse."
"He sounded surprised you knew so much about him, though," Minerva pointed out. "He might have been confident enough. And that curse has definitely weakened the Light Side. The lack of new Auror applicants in recent years…"
"Today, yes, but today is long after he originally expected to win his war, and he laid that curse only a few years before he began fighting it: too soon for it to bear fruit by removing or scaring away all of the competent teachers of the subject. And that fruit was never certain thanks to remedial courses like Kwikspell being in play. No, I suspect a deeper motive."
"Couldn't it just be spite?" Severus asked. "He would appear to you and thumb his nose at you for the ways you had thwarted him over the years if he were confident he could get away with it."
"I am certain that was one motive. And pride at being able to pull one over on me, as it were. But again, he does not make such decisions without planning. It seems unlikely that he would take the risk without some material gain to be had."
It finally clicked for Minerva. "The horcruxes," she said. "You think he was trying to get one of the Founders' artefacts?"
"That is one of my more likely theories," Albus replied, "though if he found what he was looking for in the short time he was here, I cannot guess."
"Or could he have…no, surely not," she stopped herself. Voldemort couldn't possibly have been foolish enough to hide a horcrux under Albus's nose. Unless… "What about to hide one?" she asked. "Could he have got down to the Chamber of Secrets."
He shook his head: "That seemed like a good possibility, but I investigated the Chamber thoroughly after Harry revealed its location, and I found no horcrux there. Tom may not have been able to get down there unnoticed, especially with Miss Warren haunting the entrance. In retrospect, I also believe he would not want to connect his diary with a second horcrux."
That made sense, though it still left them the puzzle of where to look for the remaining horcruxes. They could only hope that the books gave accurate and current information about the subject.
"Do you happen to know what caused the red eyes?" Severus mused. "A gaunt appearance is one thing, but are the eyes a typical symptom of horcruxes?"
"Not conclusively from the limited records we have," Albus said. "But then, Voldemort has delved far deeper into dark magic than any other. There are no known reports of any other wizard making more than a single horcrux, and exposure to that much dark magic can have unpredictable and dangerous effects. In any case, we can now identify Slytherin's Locket and Hufflepuff's Cup as two more horcruxes."
"Still potentially leaving more," Minerva clarified.
"Indeed—which I am sure we will also learn in due time. Let us continue."
Chapter 21: The Unknowable Room
"I find it highly unlikely that Tonks is in love with Sirius," Minerva said to herself. "She's sensible enough not to carry on the family tradition."
"I again find myself not caring," Severus scoffed, "much less caring enough to trust Potter's limited social instincts. And I repeat that we should stay on topic."
"I'm well aware of the topic Severus," Minerva sniped back. "Malfoy's plan—and the lengths he's going to finish it. He had those boys transforming into first-year girls! Is that even legal?"
Severus nodded dismissively. "While Polyjuice Potion is something of a grey area, there's no law against it in principle," he said, "at least if it's not being used for anything that would be illegal for an actual eleven-year-old."
Minerva stared at him with a disturbed expression, her eyebrows creeping into her hairline. Even Albus looked a little surprised.
"What? As a Potions Master, it's necessary for me to know such things," he said.
The tension largely drained away. "Fair enough, I suppose," she conceded. She checked her notes: "On a similar note, didn't we tell Miss Warren ages ago to stay out of the dorm room bathrooms?"
"We did," Albus agreed, frowning, "but for ghosts, it is occasionally necessary to have a refresher. We should also get Harry's side of the story, if he is willing."
"I expect he won't be keen on the idea, but I can try," she said. "But for Malfoy—we still don't know what he's up to—or what he would…then…be up to in the future, I suppose." This was why she didn't care for time travel, even when it was necessary. "And there are a great many things he could be doing in the Room of Requirement—perhaps even artefacts he wouldn't have access to otherwise. Maybe we should go up there and have a look for ourselves. It won't be sealed off now."
"I think it would be a better use of our time to finish the books," Albus countered, to her chagrin. It was still hard to get used to solving their real-world problems by reading further ahead. "Or rather, it would be wise to investigate the Room of Requirement on general principle, but it can wait until we are finished with this." He motioned to the book as he jotted some notes. "And we do have additional hints as to Death Eater activity—Octavius Pepper, for example—"
"And Mundungus!" Minerva groused. "That Inferius business was a new low even for him. I'm starting to wonder if he's worth the trouble."
"It is worth it, Minerva, to not be completely cut off from the less reputable portions of society," Albus said more seriously than usual. "He has been able to provide invaluable information that neither I nor the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could acquire by direct questioning."
Minerva grumbled, but she couldn't very well refute that. Even so, she hoped she could wash her hands of him once the war was over.
Meanwhile, Severus made a note of his own.
"What's that?" she asked.
"A note to tell the Weasley Twins to fix their Spell-Checking Quills to stop making their spelling worse when they wear out."
Minerva stared at him in shock again. "You're helping them? Who are you, and what have you done with Severus Snape?" She subtly held her wand at the ready, not entirely certain it was a joke.
Severus rolled his eyes. "Not for their own sake, Minerva. It is merely that if I can save future generations of teachers from such atrocious spelling, I will do so. Now, is there anything else?"
Minerva considered mentioning that "they're transparent" was a perfectly good way to distinguish ghosts from Inferi, but she immediately decided discretion was the better part of valour.
Chapter 22: After the Burial
"Well, at least Potter finally got the memory," Minerva grumbled. "I still don't know how you were expecting him to do it without the Felix Felicis, Albus."
"Harry always had the ability to do it," Albus said confidently. "He knew enough about Horace to use that approach on his own. He only had to believe in himself."
"Believing in himself wouldn't help him stumble upon Aragog's funeral. Or put him in a situation to get Horace too drunk to remember it the next day. Even if he could eventually stumble on the right approach, he might have taken too long—or tried so many wrong things that Horace panicked and left the school. He was already avoiding Potter enough to make it harder."
"Alas, this is a situation where there are not always clear or achievable answers," he said with a sigh. "Although I did know he had the Felix Felicis when I gave him the assignment, so I may have anticipated him using it."
"You might have told the boy that," she countered.
"If it became time-sensitive, I could have, Minerva. But this way will build his confidence to take his own initiative. And it is wiser to let him develop a proper understanding of the use of the potion on his own."
"I'm not sure I would credit Potter with that much wisdom, Albus," said Severus. "If you recall, he was saving it with a mind to get a girlfriend." His last word all but turned into a sneer.
"I would wager four out of five boys and girls his age would have that sort of thing on their minds, Severus," Minerva countered. "Certainly if they used the potion for something legal, which Potter did."
"Legal so far."
But that was nearly the extent of the revelations from that chapter. Horace using house elves to taste-test his wine was distasteful, especially given the resources he had at his disposal as a Potions Master, but they had known him long enough that it didn't surprise them. There was the note about the Montgomery Family being targeted by Greyback, but that was at the end of a long list of targets by this point.
"Shall we conclude for the night?" Albus asked innocently. "We have caught up with our planned schedule."
Minerva glared at him. "If you think we're going to leave it at that after it was so much trouble to get that memory, Albus, you have another think coming."
Albus just smiled and motioned for her to continue reading. It was then that she became acutely aware that he was baiting her, but she couldn't contradict him now.
Chapter 23: Horcruxes
"So, six horcruxes," Severus concluded, "of which we have identified five, but the sixth was unknown to you even in the book."
"Correct on both counts, Severus," Albus agreed.
"And did we really need to see that memory to learn that, Albus?" Minerva asked. "We already knew the rest."
"To confirm the number, yes. It was a likely possibility, but hardly the only one."
"Which there was no guarantee the memory would tell you," she objected. "In fact, I'm not even sure what You-Know-Who thought that conversation with Horace would accomplish in the first place."
"I believe that Tom was concerned about negative effects it might have on him if he were to make more than one horcrux," Albus replied. "He was attempting to enquire with Horace on that point."
"Which to his credit, Horace didn't tell him…unless it was to entertain the concept at all."
"I suspect that Tom had to content himself with that. If Horace had rejected the idea for technical or practical reasons rather than moral ones, it would have been reason for caution. As it was, it was not as certain as he might like, but he had already tipped his hand too far."
"Then it was lucky that we learnt the number," she said. "We might have been left forever wondering if we'd got them all."
"I believe there are other signs that would become manifest if Voldemort were fully dead," he said, "but you are right that our task would have been much harder, especially if he suspected what we were doing."
Severus frowned. "But if that is the case, what was your motive in seeking the memory," he reasoned. "It might not have been useful at all."
Albus sighed: "On that, I cannot be certain. I am not sure what I had deduced or suspected at that point. I can tell you why I sought out Horace two weeks ago. In that case, seeking Horace's memory was a guess—asking him about what Tom might have known about horcruxes as part of a general investigation. I would have pursued it further when it became apparent that memory could contain something useful, but of course, this book has bypassed the problem."
"Except that there's been an awful lot of guesswork in this book, Albus," Minerva said. "I don't like it."
"Less than in the first war, I should think, when we did not know what dark rituals Voldemort might have done."
"I suppose," she admitted, "and the next question is, how did You-Know-Who learn how to make them if there were no books about them here?"
"I am afraid Horace was wrong on that point," he told her, "though whether he did not know or was merely obfuscating I am unsure. Headmaster Dippet allowed several books that included a discussion of such Dark Arts to remain in the Restricted Section of the Library. I made the decision to remove them when I became Headmaster."
"I…see. Then, after that…" She checked her notes. "…we have the problem that even if we know how many horcruxes there are, and what they are—which we don't yet—you seem to have precious few leads for where to look for them."
"Which I hope the remainder of the books will tell us," Albus told her.
"We're staking an awful lot on that," she snapped. "And I think the general point still stands. You say You-Know-Who would only use powerful magical artefacts for his horcruxes, and you may be right. But what if there were—" she shuddered at the thought. "What if there is a dark wizard out there somewhere who has put a part of his soul in an unassuming rock somewhere."
Surprisingly, Albus looked rather calm at that: "Ah, that is a puzzle that is far older than I am amongst the few who know about horcruxes—one that is not fully solved, I am afraid, though I have my own theory. Minerva, Severus, you were both raised in the muggle world. Did either of you have the opportunity to read The Lord of the Rings."
Minerva raised her eyebrows. Albus had read it? She thought back. "Yes," she said, "during my brief time living in London. Father read The Hobbit to us before Mother told him about real magic. I remembered the story fondly, so I picked them up when I saw them in the muggle bookstores. Severus?"
"No," he said. "Neither of my parents were interested in such things. I know the outline of the story, though…" He trailed off. From Lily, she could guess.
"That will be enough," Albus said. "In brief, I suspect that, like the One Ring, a horcrux left idle for centuries would not remain so, and even an unassuming rock would influence those around it, both human and animal, until someone suggestible found it and was corrupted by in. In a vault, protected by magical traps is one thing. But in the wild? That sort of dark magic festers if left to its own devices. Moreover, the evidence around Herpo the Foul, inventor of the horcrux, though circumstantial, points to the same conclusion."
That was some comfort, but still… "And if they buried it somewhere no one could reach it? Or used a Fidelius Charm?" Minerva asked.
"As I said, an unsolved problem. Though there are good reasons not to make a horcrux completely unreachable, even if direct access to it is not required to return to life."
"The Dark Lord would not use a Fidelius Charm," Severus added. "Even though there are multiple ways to use it, it still requires trust in another. He's far too paranoid for that."
"Indeed," Albus agreed. "The Fidelius Charm is a powerful light spell that requires trust to cast in and of itself, just as the Patronus Charm requires joy. And one thing we can be certain of Lord Voldemort is that he trusts no one."
Minerva nodded slowly. It was a nuance of the spell she had missed in Filius's explanation, but it made sense. And of course, both Albus and Severus had ample reason to know that spell inside and out. For their own problems, they didn't have to worry about that.
"Very well," she accepted. "Now, there is another problem I can see, Albus. You didn't seem to give Potter very much direction in how to fight You-Know-Who."
Albus's bushy eyebrows rose high at her words: "I should think I answered that quite clearly."
"You answered 'love.' But you left how on Earth Harry is supposed to turn love—and I'll grant it's very powerful—but how to turn it into a winning strategy. In fact, leaving aside all that discussion of prophecies—you know that's out of my expertise—it seems to me that you're being overly literal. His ability to love shows great strength of character, which is not nothing, but again, is not a winning strategy on its own."
"Then what would you suggest, Minerva?" he asked.
"You ought to know better than I, but the most obvious one is that Potter has friends, where You-Know-Who only has followers, and frightened ones, at that."
Albus smiled: "This I believe Harry knows very well—even if he is not fully aware of it. The previous books would have turned out very differently if it were not so. And…" He looked over the last few pages of the chapter. "…perhaps I was unclear on one point: it is not merely Harry's ability to love, but his instinct to love. Harry thinks, naturally, in ways that Voldemort does not—in ways that are both for the good of, and relying on his friends. And that is already powerful in itself. Voldemort will always struggle to predict Harry, more so than the reverse. Add to that a certain humility—"
Severus scoffed loudly.
"More than Lord Voldemort has, Severus; of that you may be certain," he said sternly.
"Hmph," Severus grumbled. "I might admit that in limited domains. Still, I'm not sure you should be so confident that Potter is not seduced by the Dark Arts. I seem to recall he dreamed of hexing his cousin from his first day in the Wizarding World."
"Boyhood indiscretions," Albus dismissed him. "James—even I can admit—did worse than that. And he was no friend to the Dark Arts."
"And the title of the next chapter?" he pressed, growling slightly at James's name.
"That remains to be seen. But at this point in the story, I would point out that Harry does not know what the spell does or how severe it is. Nor can we even be certain he is the one who casts it. Perhaps you will reveal yourself as the creator of the spell in a suitably dramatic fashion. If you would like to continue reading on…"
Albus said this with his usual good humour, but neither Severus nor Minerva were smiling. Minerva had of course noticed the title of the next chapter herself: "Sectumsempra."
But she was done for the day, no matter how ominous it looked. "I think we have enough to be worrying about tonight as it is," she cut off their argument. "We should sort out what we've read so far before tackling even more problems. Besides which, there are still a couple of things that confuse me—such as what was You-Know-Who doing wearing that ring around where people would notice if he was using it for a horcrux?"
"Oh? That seems like a simple enough explanation," said Albus. "Tom wore the ring as a sign of his heritage—proof to his housemates that he was the Heir of Slytherin. But once he placed a piece of his soul in it, he did not wish to keep it with him and instead protected it somewhere secret."
That gave her pause. "Wait, the ring wasn't a horcrux yet in the memory?" she asked.
Albus stopped and thought for a moment. "I suppose I cannot be certain one way or the other. My expectation is as you said—that he would not want to wear it around after he had made it a horcrux, but it is possible he continued to use it as a status symbol in Slytherin House."
"But wouldn't he have made it a horcrux directly after killing his father?" she protested.
"Why would that be?" he asked.
"Well, if the horcrux requires a human sacrifice—"
"No, you misunderstand, Minerva," he cut her off. "The horcrux is not sacrificial magic."
That brought her up short. "It…it's not?"
"No—or, at least, not a human sacrifice. There are a number of other unsavoury actions involved, of which I will spare you the details. But the murder is required to become capable of performing the ritual—to fracture the soul—not for the ritual itself."
"But…but then he could use an old murder to make a horcrux at any time," she said, aghast.
"No older than the last time he made a horcrux, but yes. Though it is undoubtedly more reliable to do so promptly. The books record that feeling remorse, or even a lack of conviction regarding the murder will cause the ritual to fail, perhaps catastrophically. Yet such has never been a problem for Voldemort."
"And so…" she reasoned, "You-Know-Who killed his father and stole the ring…and then he…or did he? If he could have waited…no, I think I've missed something. Was the ring or the diary his first horcrux?"
"The Riddles were murdered before Miss Warren. That much is certain," Albus told her. "Barring a very unusual turn of events, the ring must have been made a horcrux before the diary. And indeed, the fact that he intended the diary as a weapon—to be used rather than hidden away—bears this out in that he would be unlikely to try a novel method with his first horcrux."
Severus took up the thread: "So he took the ring. Perhaps he made it a horcrux immediately and only spoke to Horace when he looked into making multiple of them, or perhaps he spoke to Horace before putting his plan into action at all. Meanwhile, that same year he found the Chamber of Secrets—later in the year, I assume?" Albus nodded. "And began attacking muggle-born students. What I wonder is if Myrtle's death was a planned murder, or if he was eliminating a witness."
"If he wanted to kill, why not start with that when he opened the Chamber?" Minerva pointed out. "Or at most after one test run. There was the risk of closing the school and that stopping him, but he didn't seem to anticipate that."
Severus nodded: "Eliminating a witness, then. He didn't hear that she was in the room and had to act fast. He didn't know or didn't trust a Memory Charm at that age—"
"I think it more likely that it was merely his instinct to skip directly to murder," Albus interrupted.
"Perhaps. So, he had to act fast, commanding the basilisk to kill her. Obviously, it was still enough to make a horcrux afterwards, but it wasn't planned."
"Wait," Minerva said suddenly. "In the second book, when Potter was pulled into the diary—he wasn't wearing the ring then."
Albus shook his head: "He did not wear the ring in my presence. He flaunted his status as the Heir of Slytherin within his own House, but already, he was canny enough not to leave clues that could point me, personally, to his heritage—and thus to his crimes."
"Ah, I see," she said. "Well, either way, he must have made the ring into a horcrux by then. Maybe even did it in the Chamber. And then he used the diary…Why did he even have a muggle diary, anyway?"
"Another oddity that I have never fully understood since Harry presented it to me," Albus mused, "though I admit I have never had cause to look into it deeply."
"If we're looking, it's not clear to me when he could have acquired a muggle diary," Severus pointed out, "especially a blank one—if it was blank at the time—and it was dated for January through December of that same year. It was nearly the end of term, and you said he never left the school for holidays. He would be far more likely to buy such a thing in Hogsmeade, if anywhere."
"Unless it was Myrtle's diary," Minerva said idly.
Albus and Severus both stopped and stared at her with wide eyes.
"What?" she said. "You think…" The penny dropped. "It was Myrtle's diary, wasn't it?"
"My dear Minerva," Albus said with a smile, "I believe you have solved a very old case that I did not even see, though it was right under my nose. Tom Riddle was not the sort of boy to possess any diary, where his thoughts could be written down and found out, much less a muggle one. And we have seen that the young Tom liked to take trophies from his victims. Though I had not remarked upon it, Miss Warren would have been an exception in that regard. I think it very likely the diary was hers."
Minerva blushed a little. "I…thank you, Albus. But in that case, if it was her diary, then I would have to agree with Potter; it seems like quite the plain object to make into a horcrux."
"It was rushed decision," Severus answered with an air of certainty.
"Come again?"
"The young Dark Lord had to act quickly to eliminate a witness. He stole her diary, perhaps out of sheer habit…or perhaps to see if she had written about him, on the chance that her presence wasn't a coincidence. Then, Dippet threatened to close the school—"
"And he framed Hagrid," Minerva said with a snarl.
"Yes, he framed Hagrid, but he also had to abandon his plan to purge the school of muggle-borns. So, he decided to make a horcrux that he could use to manipulating someone else into doing it after he graduated."
"And he used Myrtle's diary?"
"He used the best thing he had on hand. Dippet may have kept the school open, but there was still only a week left in the term at that point. He didn't have time to think about other options."
Minerva narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Do you know something about this, Severus?" she demanded.
He didn't rise. "I know the Dark Lord's character—and what we've read in these books. No, I cannot prove it, but it's enough to guess."
"It does ring true," Albus agreed, "and it would also explain why he chose Miss Warren for it—a rather insignificant death—by his standards, of course."
"Do you really think that's how he did it?" Minerva challenged him. "The 'significant deaths'?"
"I admit I cannot connect all of the horcruxes in that way. I am more certain of it regarding Harry's intended death than the others simply because of Voldemort's actions afterwards—turning his snake Nagini into a horcrux, indicating he did not take advantage of his numerous earlier opportunities."
That was fair, she supposed. He'd had however many years—at least a decade—when he was killing people regularly, and he could have made his last horcrux at any time. In fact… "He was waiting even before he heard about the prophecy," she pointed out.
"He was—perhaps waiting for access to the Founders' artefacts he coveted. One thing we must remember is that, for all his violence and aggression, Voldemort fancies himself immortal, and so he is willing to wait many years to accomplish his goals—to achieve the perfect scenario in his mind. With five horcruxes and feeling secure in his—shall we say, conventional power, he would have felt little urgency."
That…also made sense, though it gave Minerva a headache to think in those terms, which was probably a good sign for her personally. She turned over all the things they had learnt about horcruxes in her mind, considering all the angles. And she realised there was one more issue that wasn't merely academic: "Albus, you said you were close to finding another horcrux in the book. Do you know what that's about?"
"No, I have not made those investigations yet," he said.
"And you'll wait before getting the ring from the Gaunts' shack so you don't get cursed this time?"
"Of course, Minerva. I am waiting to see if the books give any additional information about it."
"And you'll take help along?" She remembered his word in the book. "Other than Potter?"
"If it is warranted."
She narrowed her eyes at him, but he stood his ground. The need for secrecy, she had to admit, was still very much in play. Finally, she relented. She'd at least be able to keep an eye on him before he got into trouble. Probably.
"Was there anything else?" he asked innocently.
She checked her notes: "Just one. The Fat Lady was trying to keep Potter out of the dorms. And she was lying about the password. She shouldn't be able to do either, especially in a time of enhanced security. It was bad enough with Sir Cadogan."
"Well, you know how portraits can be, Minerva. That is the same reason we had so many problems two years ago."
"Hmpf. Be that as it may, this time, I am going to ensure we have more options."
A/N: It was really hard to decide which order the diary and ring horcrux were made (which was one of several reasons this chapter took so long to write). There are significant problems with both options, not just from statements about the timing (which I wouldn't trust JKR to get right), but also in Tom Riddle's overt actions. If you know of any direct pronouncements from Rowling that I've missed on the subject, please let me know because I couldn't find anything.
For the record, if the diary was first, Tom (obviously) kills Myrtle first. It may have been planned (phase 2 of his Chamber of Secrets plan) or unplanned (eliminating a witness). And he either has or steals the diary and makes it a horcrux. Why then? Because it was his first kill? Probably. Why a diary? Because it was what he had on hand? Maybe (would make more sense for both the "unplanned" and "stolen" options). Why a weapon? Even if you allow the others, that doesn't really make sense for his first horcrux.
If the ring was first, he kills the Riddles and steals the ring before the Chamber of Secrets business. He may make it a horcrux then, or after he talks to Slughorn. He may or may not be planning to make a horcrux with Myrtle's death, but after they threaten to close the school, he changes his plans and makes the diary into a weapon for someone else to use later. All the same pieces are there, but the diary makes a lot more sense for his second horcrux, and there's more wiggle room in the plan overall, so that's why I chose that one.