Did you miss me? *Sherlock fangirl flails* Sorry, I've been... not good. My anxiety became more of an issue, so I wasn't able to write or whatever for a long time. Luckily my therapist found a medication that seems to be doing the trick. With any luck, there won't be any more 5 month delays. Again, I'm really sorry.

Albus apperated into his front hall and immediately fell to his knees. Around him magical sirens wailed, set off by his appearance. He felt the magic set into the foundations of Grimmald Place pulling at him, battering against him like a gale, telling him to leave, leave, he wasn't welcome here.

"I'm Albus," he said, trying to fight the magic. "I'm Albus Potter."

"No, you're not," said the magic, or so it seemed. "No, you're not."

"You're right," said Albus. The compulsion became even greater. "No, listen to me. You're right, I'm not a Potter anymore. But I am Tom Riddle, and I'm going to avenge this house's dead masters." The magic slackened, questioning and suspicious. "It's true. You can ask Dumbledore or- or Slytherin." The magic almost disappeared. "Thank you." Albus stood and straightened his robes. "I wonder if you could help me."

"How? How?" the magic seemed to say. Albus smiled.

"Let me use you," he said. Then he waited. At first it was slow, a thrumming pressure at the back of his brain. Then an invisible wall seemed to falter, and pure power flowed through him. Albus closed his eyes.

Where is the project Mum was working on? he thought. The magic moved him, making his legs walk up one... two... three flights of stairs. His arm flung out mechanically, and he muttered words taking away the magical barriers that were decaying now that Ginny Potter was dead. The door swung open, and instantly the smell of death him him.

"Oh, Mum, what were you doing?" he whispered. The magic pressed him on as though in answer. It took him to a desk on which lay a slim piral notebook. Next to it was a Muggle pen and a small flask of a dark read liquid. Albus swallowed, the spit sticking in his throat. Now that he was here he didn't know if he wanted to see what Rose had wanted so desperately.

He reached out and, after hesitating a moment more, picked up the notebook and opened it. The pages were covered with him mum's familiar handwriting and neat diagrams. He began to read:

"August 28th, 2017

Began next stage of Project Jab. Hope to get more books on Muggle medicine and genetic engineering after dropping J. and A. of at King's Cross Friday. Most complex bit will be finding a way to splice chromosomes magically and create right alleles..."

Albus flipped a few pages:

"September 5th, 2017

H. worked 48 hr. shift again, so more time to work on splicing mechanism. Four Muggle rats died. Re-consulted biology texts and reconfigured spell. Test successful. Splicing successful. Will test allele combinations soon..."

Albus poured over the notebook. Part of him wanted desperately to read everything and understand every chart and diagram. This was a record of what Ginny Potter had been working on before her death; it might have even been why she died. He yearned to know why it was so important, but Albus knew that not everything the Ministry worked on was purely good- whatever good was. And this was probably one of those things. Rose was interested in it, after all, interested enough to kill his mum for the secret.

"December 3rd, 2017

Alleles still not cooperating, but I've made an interesting discovery. With the right gene inserted into a virus, a commutable and quick death is reached. Even more interesting, when the experiment was performed on magical rats, their magic faded into nothing before they died. Though this is not the effect desired, it does bring up several interesting features. Magic seeps to be the result of a trait that this dominant "Muggle gene" masks. But this brings up many questions. How is it that a Muggle and a wizard can and usually do have magical offspring? How can Squibs exist? Further research is obviously necessary, but one thing is clear. If one could harness the power of this gene without causing death, one could easily strip a witch or wizard of their magic. As frightening as the prospect is, it is also exciting. The possible applications of this discovery are endless-"

"You disgust me," Albus snarled aloud, snapping the notebook shut. Rose's motives were all too clear. Somehow she had learned of his mum's dangerous discovery, and now she was going to do something with it. Albus could even hazard a guess at what she was planning on using it for. Rose would neutralize the threat of the Slytherins by taking away their magic permanently.

No wonder her attacks, devastating though they had been, were half-hearted at best. She had aimed to distract them from the real goal. Rose wasn't concerned about fights or numbers of casualties. She wanted to do more than beat the Slytherins in a war, she wanted to destroy them in the most devastating way possible. Everything she'd done, all the confrontations and threats and political posturing, had all been in preparation of them being utterly defeated. Without magic Lord Voldemort was nothing.

"You're forgetting something," said a voice.

"Tom!" said Albus. "What am I forgetting?"

"How can you not see this?" said Tom. "It's as plain as the nooose on your face."

"Shut up. If you're not going to say anything useful, you might as well go away."

"Aw, come on. We used to be best buddies."

"Well, now we're not," said Albus. "I need to figure stuff out, in case you haven't noticed. Rose is planning-"

"You have no idea what Rose is planning," said Tom.

"What else would she want with this weapon?" said Albus.

"Ah, but does she want it at all? That's the real question, you know."

"Of course she wants it. She wouldn't be fighting us Slytherins at all if she didn't want to destroy us, as she has made abundantly clear."

"You're so silly. You're forgetting Mr. Obvious, Mr. I-Have-a-Reputation-for-Good-but-am-Really-a-Jerkass."

"Jerkarse."

"Americanisms make me feel better."

"Would you get to the point?" Albus could almost see Tom's wide, irreverent grin.

"Man, this is just like the old times," he said. "Me being smart, you not appreciating my genius. It's Gryffindor's plan, you pillock. You've been fighting the apprentice when all this time you should have been concentrating on the Master Sith."

"Please don't compare my life to Star Wars. It's way easier to fight someone you can, you know, see outside of weird dream states. And who isn't already way dead."

"You can still strangle him. It's very satisfying."

"Please don't tell me that you tried to strangle Gryffindor."

"Only once." There was a beat.

"That is not as reassuring a sentence as you seem to think it is," said Albus. He flipped to the end of his mum's notebook, and then he scowled. "This isn't good."

"What isn't good?" Albus read the entry aloud:

"March 15th, 2018

Have finally succeeded. Anyone infected by the modified virus will have their magic taken away over a period of 48 hours. Moreover, there is a decent chance of them infecting anyone who they come in direct physical contact with. Have put most of the mixture behind Micah in DoM. Keeping a small flask here for experimental purposes..." He stopped and looked at the flask of dark red liquid. "This isn't good," he said again.

"Did you send Leslie right to Rose?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "Yeah, I might have." He stood. "I have to go help her."

"Don't forget to warn Frank," said Tom, suddenly all business. "He'll be able to warn the army."

"Good idea," said Albus, He scribbled a quick note, muttered a few words, and watched as it popped and disappeared. "Anything you have to tell me before I go into the dragon's lair? I know that Dumbledore wouldn't have sent you here for a casual chat."

"Who said Dumbles sent me?" Albus rolled his eyes. "Fine. No fun. Dumbly-warts told me to tell you that the Council's votes are in."

"And their verdict?" said Albus. Tom sighed.

"Gryffindor still has too many allies. He barely won the vote. You live 'uns are on your own."

"Shit," said Albus. He ran his hands through his hair. "Shit. Well, that's not good. But I can't deal with this right now."

"Will be be seeing you tonight?" Albus laughed. It was obviously forced and fake.

"If I can sneak some sleep," he said. "But for now I have to deal with Rose. She may not be the chessmaster, but she is a threat." He disapperated.

Wow... There were no fewer than 3 references in this one. Reviews = virtual hugs.