Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews. The last chapter wasn't what I expected, but I really enjoyed writing it. When I said there's only a few chapters left, I may have been lying. I know the last chapter; getting there might be straight forward or could be wibbly-wobbly. Thank you for reading. Hopefully, this chapter will give you some insight in how I hope to finish!

At first, when Harry and Ron had been told they were going to be spending the last week of June learning about the Department of Mysteries, the pair had smirked at each other. Not many people knew what had gone on in the deepest parts of the Ministry during their fifth year and they probably had more knowledge of the rooms in the department than most senior Ministry Wizards; apart from the Unspeakables of course.

They had never met the Wizards assigned to their class, but they were amiable and eager to discuss the topics being researched. Annoyingly, they were very good at giving a lot of detail, but not enough detail all at the same time. Harry had engaged one of them in a lively debate about the Hall of Prophecy and whether it should have been rebuilt or not. Given the last known seer to exist was Trelawney, Harry was highly doubtful of the benefits of its existence but the Unspeakable felt differently.

The talk eventually came around to the Thought Room. Ron had been confused at the time so couldn't remember much about what had happened, but as the Unspeakable started a discussion about the study of thought and why it was important, the scars that wove around his arm had started to tingle and he suddenly found it very difficult to breath. Without warning, Ron had pushed himself away from his desk and left the class quickly, all the while trying to keep calm.

By the time Ron had returned; the discussion had moved on to the Space Room. Ron remained quiet for the rest of the day and had gone home without saying goodbye to Harry or his other colleagues.

That night, he had struggled to sleep. When he did finally drift off, Ron had found himself back in the long, rectangular room. Whereas his actual memories had been fuzzy; in his dreams the room was sharp and clear. Over and over again, he summoned the brain from the tank of green liquid; watching helplessly as it's tendrils wove their way up his arms, eventually covering his mouth and suffocating him. Ron had woken that night with a gasp.

By the third night of the same dreams, Ron was getting fed up. Once again, he had been stirred from the nightmare by an inability to breath; pushing himself to sit up in bed quickly and trying his hardest to get a grasp back on reality. He realised his body was shivering as he recalled the feel of the brain's slime soaking his upper body.

Ron frowned and rubbed his forehead before turning to look at the curly haired blonde lying next to him. He contemplated waking her, but Lavender always preferred to look at the sunnier side of life and wasn't so keen to talk about the things that had happened during the war. Ron was vaguely aware that she had own her nightmares to deal with, although every time he had tried to push her to talk about them; she'd refused. She hadn't been at the Department of Mysteries that night and therefore, Ron had already decided that she probably would never be able to understand what he was going through.

He slid out of bed with a sigh, pulling on a jumper as he walked through to the kitchen. He let out a loud yawn as he turned on the kitchen light and filled the kettle. As he waited for it to boil, he checked the time. It was almost 4 am. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get back to sleep again now and even if he did, he was sure he'd just be plagued with more nightmares. He made himself a strong cup of coffee before settling on the sofa.

Not wanting to turn the television on and risk waking Lavender, he flicked through the pile of magazines and books on the side table. He was surprised as he unearthed his old mobile phone. He smiled and turned it over in his hands a few times. It had been months since he had last seen it, let alone used it. He put it on charge and concentrated on drinking his coffee; trying to push the final remnants of his nightmare from his thoughts.

Once his mug was empty, he tried turning the phone on. He smiled as he was greeted with the picture of him and Hermione from that first summer after the Battle of Hogwarts. The couple in the picture looked so happy and loved up. Although Hermione was staring at the screen, Ron was pressing a hard kiss against her cheek; his nose pushed right up against her skin. For a moment, Ron wondered if him and Lavender would look the same if he took a picture like this. Maybe he should try it one day. He laughed at himself as he realised he should probably change the wallpaper on the phone if he ever wanted to show it to Lav.

Ron sat back as he flicked through the photos. He'd added a ton of his friends and family since he first got it, and there was even a folder full of photos from the time he'd attempted to show his dad how to use it. Ron laughed as he opened the folder; most of them unrecognisable due to them either being out of focus or covered with a thumb.

He wasn't sure why; maybe the photos were making him feel nostalgic, but before he'd even realised what he was doing he had flipped back to the home screen. Ron moved on autopilot as he pressed the green telephone icon on the screen; dialling the only number stored in the phone.

Although it was early in the morning; Hermione was wide awake. She had only been back in the UK for a couple of days. The month since the Harpies had won the Championship had been a whirlwind, but once Hermione decided something she worked with a hard determination to make it happen. She didn't believe in fate; things happened because you made them happen.

Despite her raging hangover the morning after the party, she had sent one owl to Kingsley to accept his offer and another to the Australian Ministry to reject theirs. As soon as she had arrived back in Australia, she had used her parent's PC to trawl the internet and find somewhere to live. She'd finally settled on a small cottage not too far from the Burrow at Ottery St. Catchpole.

Travelling home by plane had been a mistake. She was really suffering from jet leg this time and was waiting for Molly to brew her a potion that she thought might help. Hermione had been unpacking boxes in her bedroom when she had heard her phone vibrating. She frowned at her handbag. She'd only kept the phone so she could use the music app and it had only been charged after months of being turned off so that she could listen to her playlist during the flight home. Hermione hurried to the bag and dug the phone out, answering without checking the caller ID.

"Ron?!"

A weary voice answered her. "Hey, hi... yeah it's me..."

"Hi! This is a surprise! Is everything okay?"

Hermione waited for a reply, frowning as the line went quiet. She pulled the phone away from her ear, checking the call was still connected before speaking again. "Ron, are you there?"

"Yeah... sorry..." Although she couldn't see him, Hermione could imagine Ron shaking his thoughts away from his head. "Sorry to call you so late. I was looking at some photos and before I knew it I had dialled your number. I didn't even expect you to pick up."

"Ugh, I'm still suffering from jet lag. Your mum is making me a potion, it should be ready for me to pick up at lunch tomorrow. Or is that this afternoon now?!" She laughed softly. "I start my new job Monday and I really need a decent night's sleep..." Hermione plonked herself down in the small cosy reading chair tucked in the corner of her bedroom. "Now don't take this the wrong way because you know I'm always up for a chat with you but are you okay? It's 4 am and it's not like you to be awake so early..."

Ron rubbed his eyes, almost like he was waking up properly. He didn't know what he'd been thinking of when he dialled Hermione's number. He thought about what it the gravitational pull could mean briefly, but then he reminded himself that he had a perfectly good girlfriend lying fast asleep in his bed.

"Uhm... actually, it's not important. I'm fine. We'll see you at mum and dad's later..." Ron hung up without another word and went back to bed, leaving Hermione frowning at the phone in her hand.