Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all…she is a genius.

Important Note: This is a story based on one of the first HP fanfics I wrote, Destined. The whole story is hosted on harrypotterfanfiction-dot-com under 'MioneWeasley' and part of it is posted here (but I'll delete it soon). But don't bother reading it. I was young and no good at writing when I wrote that and I've been itching to rewrite it for a long time now. Which brings me to Into Oblivion—a remake of sorts, taking HBP into account and hopefully better :D. Follows the trio through the end of the war and into their post-war lives. main-R/Hr, secondary-H/G.

Into Oblivion

Part 1: Nearing the End

Prologue

June, 1998

Harry Potter stood in the Headmistress's office, stroking Fawkes as she sat peacefully perched on a ledge. To his right sat Hermione, who busied herself by opening up the handsome leather-bound notebook that Ron had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

Hermione had diligently jotted down every piece of information or clue they discovered, and stored every letter they had received through Fawkes, as Harry and his two best friends searched for pieces of the Darkest Wizard's soul.

The book opened to a list that Hermione had penned back in August, one that she updated every time they had successfully destroyed a Horcrux.

1. Tom Riddle's Diary – destroyed June 1993 (Harry)

2. Marvolo Gaunt's ring – destroyed August 1996 (Pr. Dumbledore)

3. Slytherin's locket – destroyed November 1997 (Harry, Ron, Hermione)

4. Hufflepuff's cup – destroyed May 1998 (Harry, Ron, Hermione)

5. Nagini (?)

6. Unknown

7. Voldemort

Hermione poised her quill beside the name, Nagini. She looked at it thoughtfully before bringing the quill down to the parchment. Now the line read:

5. Nagini (?) – destroyed June 1998 (Prof. Snape)

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. It was true. Nagini was indeed a Horcrux and Snape had killed her only a day before. Snape. Traitorous, slimy, evil Snape had destroyed one of the Horcruxes.

Ron, who was sitting on the other side of Hermione, glanced over at her notebook and made a noise in disagreement.

"Doesn't change anything, he's still a bloody traitor," Ron muttered.

Hermione shot him a disapproving look.

Professor McGonagall, who had been pacing up and down the width of the office as the four of them waited for Remus Lupin to arrive, suddenly spun around and looked down at her former students.

"So, what you're telling me is that Severus helped the three of you escape and killed Nagini. You saw him kill Nagini?"

Hermione nodded.

"And Fawkes, he went to Snape without a moments hesitation?"

"Yes. It was Snape who was sending us anonymous tips about the Horcruxes through Fawkes."

"His information was valid?"

"Yes, we couldn't have found the locket or the cup without his help."

Harry looked away. All the evidence was piling up in Snape's favour and Harry didn't like it. Snape killed Dumbledore.

"How do you suppose that Fawkes's trust in Snape means he's on our side?" interjected Ron. "Fawkes trusted whoever Professor Dumbledore trusted and we all know he was wrong to trust Snape."

"Ron, for heaven sakes, Fawkes is an intelligent bird. He must be aware of the circumstances surrounding Professor Dumbledore's death. He knows that Professor Snape killed Dumbeldore. The fact that he still trusts Professor Snape..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at Ron, daring him to disagree.

Harry rubbed the bruise on the side of his head. Hermione was right. Fwakes was very intelligent.

McGonagall fell into her chair. "So, Severus saved the three of you and killed Nagini. Fawkes trusts him and he's the one who's been sending you information through Fawkes."

The two boys remained still while Hermione nodded.

"Oh, Albus, what have you done?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.

"It's rather blatant what Albus had planned. Oh dear."

"What?"

"Professor Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him," answered Harry, dully.

"WHAT! That's just mad, Harry."

"No, it isn't," muttered McGonagall. "It's exactly something Albus would do."

"And Snape agreed to it? That's like Harry telling me to kill him. There's no way in hell I'd listen to him," exclaimed Ron.

"Language, Mr. Weasley."

Ron muttered to himself. "Evil git."

"Severus has always been extremely…obedient of Albus. I had assumed it was all an act after he…he…killed Albus, but this makes sense. Albus ordered him to do what he did in order to ensure Severus the highest regard with You Know Who."

Harry was the last person who wanted to admit it, but it was true. All the little events of their sixth year fell into place. The conversation between Dumbledore and Snape that Hagrid had overheard, the way Snape acted on the night Dumbledore died.

Harry felt anger building up in his chest. He didn't know who he was the angriest with, Dumbledore or Snape.

"When I was in the cave with Professor Dumbledore, he made me swear that I would continue with my task even if it was killing him," offered Harry, almost reluctantly.

Ron gave Harry a look of utter disbelief. His expression was almost comical. "Kill him?" he repeated. Harry nodded. Ron didn't seem to believe him. "Harry, you actually believe this bullocks?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

"Fine," said Ron, angrily. "Whatever."

"Have we settled the matter, then?" asked McGonagall, her eyes roaming over the three teenagers.

The three of them nodded.

"The only problem is that Professor Snape's recent activities won't go unoticed by Voldemort," muttered Hermione.

McGonagall closed her eyes nodded. "Oh, Severus."

The room fell silent.

Harry couldn't bring himself to feel any sympathy for Snape. He was mulling over his admittedly heartless thoughts when someone interrupted the silence.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, I wasn't expecting you three here."

Harry's head snapped up to see his former professor, Remus Lupin, stepping out of the fireplace. His hair was a bit longer, his clothes shabbier and his face was much older. He had dark circles under his eyes and seemed thinner than the last time Harry had seen him.

"But it's a good thing you're here. Minerva, the situation in London is getting worse. We must take action immediately."

McGonagall sighed. "The Minister's health is not improving, then?"

"What's wrong with the Minister?" asked Hermione, alarmed.

Remus looked sadly at Hermione. "The Ministry is trying to keep it under wraps, but I suspect it will be in the papers by tomorrow. Scrimgeour seems to have caught a virus."

"Well, that's not a big deal, is it?" started Ron. "There are potions for most viruses. Besides, the man's a bloody git."

"This isn't like most viruses, Ron," sighed Lupin. "We don't know what it is. We don't have an antidote for it. And the Minister isn't the only one who's fallen ill."

"Who?" asked McGonagall, alarmed.

"A few days ago, the Ministry enlisted in the help of a muggle scientist—the mother of a Ministry official—to investigate the virus. It's nothing she's ever seen before either."

"The Ministry sought help from a muggle?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, well, they assumed that it was a muggle virus that never breached the wizardry world until now."

"But it isn't, is it?" said Hermione.

"No, the virus appears to be purely magical in origin. But the muggle scientist, well, she's also ill now."

Hermione gasped.

"She became ill five days after coming in contact with the virus—."

"The healer who tried to treat Scrimgeour showed symptoms five days later," interjected McGonagall.

"Exactly," Lupin agreed, rubbing his tired eyes. "From what I gather, the symptoms appear five days after coming in contact with the virus, and according the muggle scientist, it's airborne."

"Bloody hell," muttered Harry, "we don't need this right now. We're in the middle of a war."

"The thing is, Harry, this is no coincidence. Your father, Ron, had direct contact with the Minister just before he fell ill…"

Ron gripped the side of his chair and his face paled. "Is he…he's not—."

"Not to worry, Ron, he's fine."

Ron shut his eyes, sighing with relief.

"But your father was on a raid in Liverpool. He arrested a man for selling fake protective amulets. Arthur was the only person to come in close contact with the man—he took him to a temporary cell in the Ministry. Five days later, the man fell ill."

Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth.

"The man is a half-blood."

"Merlin's beard," murmured McGonagall.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused.

"You see, it appears that the virus only affects non-purebloods, but can be spread by anyone, including purebloods," explained Remus.

"Are you saying…Voldemort is responsible for this?" asked Harry.

"I'm certain he is. And I'd say it's more than airborne. There is dark magic driving the spread of the virus." continued Remus.

"How bad is it?" asked Ron.

"From what I've been told, at first a victim loses the use of his legs, then gradually the use of all his limbs and finally, speech. They are constantly feeling cold and in a great deal of pain."

"Shite," cursed Ron, followed by a "Sorry Professors."

An uncomfortable silence draped the room once more, only to be broken by Ron's frantic thought. "Wait, have you been in contact with the virus?" Ron asked Remus.

Harry hadn't thought of that. He guessed it was reasonable to believe that Hermione and he were at risk.

"No, I've been out of the country for quite some time on Order business. Tonks filled me in over the phone..." replied Remus.

Remus's eyes darkened and Harry knew that he was worried about Tonks, who was in London.

"The fellyphone?" said Ron.

"Yes, it seemed the safest way to have a long discussion."

To avoid spread of the disease, Harry was sure was what Remus meant.

"As I said earlier, it's a good thing you three are here. Harry, you can't go anywhere just now for risk of contracting the disease."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Harry, outraged.

"Tomorrow, the train will leave, taking students home. We can't force them all to stay here in order to protect them," said McGonagall.

"And you can't force me either!"

"Oh, be reasonable and think this through, Harry. What use are you going to be in this war if you are lying in a sickbed?" asked McGonagall.

"And what use will I be sitting around here?"

"Hermione, we need to find a vaccine. You are the best Potions student, and without Severus and Slughorn…well, I'd say your muggle background might be of some help," started McGonagall, changing the subject abruptly.

"You want me to find a vaccine?" asked Hermione in a small, scared voice.

"Yes, we can set you up in the dungeons with whatever books and equipment you might need. You'll have to isolate yourself, no contact with anyone until you've finished. We'll seal the dungeons."

Ron gulped, his face chalk white. "Yes, that way you won't get sick." He glanced at Harry, and Harry knew Ron wanted Harry to go with her to keep him away from the virus.

"There is no way!" hissed Harry.

"No, Harry, you should go with Hermione. You can help her. The faster you discover the vaccine, the sooner you can leave the confines," urged Remus.

"NO!"

"Don't be daft, Potter. I know I do not hold the same respect you had for Albus, but at least we both have good sense. He would have asked the same of you."

"Harry," started Ron.

"Don't you start with me, Ron! You've got nothing to worry about, being a pureblood and all, so you can just shut it."

"Harry, that isn't fair," said Hermione, tears pooling at the brim of her eyes.

Ron clenched his jaw but he couldn't hide his worried expression. He slipped his hand over Hermione's hand. She gripped it tightly.

"Harry, it's the only way," whispered Hermione.