Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

A/N: Sorry again for the delay. I really had a hard time writing this chapter. I think my creativity took a vacation and didn't let me know about it, lol. But now its back and hopefully ready to work again.

I just wanted to say thanks for all of your comments and encouragements.

Thank you Salon_Kitty for your time and support with helping me through this chapter. All other mistakes are my own.

When the lift doors opened, Harry found himself on the infamous Level Nine headquarters for the Department of Mysteries; even after all these years the place still gave him the creeps. The cold, dark marble floors and the cathedral ceiling over the hallway made him feel like he was walking through a giant mausoleum. Gods, he wished he didn't have to be there, but the Hall of Pensieves was located on Level Ten and the only access was the stairwell on Level Nine.

As he neared the end of the hall, he stopped for a moment to stare at the big, black door leading to the Entrance Chamber for the Department of Mysteries. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end just to look at it. So many terrible events took place behind that door. Although Harry had finally forgiven himself for Sirius' death and for getting Ron and Hermione maimed, he still carried a bit of guilt in his heart. He made a sharp left and descended the stairs to the Ministry's lowest level.

The Hall of Pensieves was a relatively new addition to the Ministry. The small department was managed by Pensieve expert, Mildred Hollingsberry, who pretentiously preferred to be addressed as Titulari Memoria, the Holder of Memories. It was said that her dour disposition rivaled Hogwart's very own librarian, Madame Irma Pince, and the former was known to be a stickler for proper documentation in regards to Pensieve use. Since Harry had neither documentation nor direct permission, his chances at getting one of the basins were slim to none, but then, when had he ever let something like rules stop him from accomplishing a goal?

He entered the tiny office and rang the bell on the reception desk. He was surprised to see that the person who answered the call was Bem Adebayo, a Gryffindor from his year.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Harry got straight to business and told him that he needed to use a Pensieve but didn't have court documentation to do so. Bem turned him down, said he couldn't help him because it would be against Ministry policies, but Harry remained persistent. When he was almost begging, the other man relented and finally agreed to allow Harry access only because his boss, the stern Titulari Memoria, just so happened to be in a meeting and would be out for the day.

Bem led him down a small hallway which opened to a large opened up to a room as spacious as a warehouse, the concrete walls lined with a variety of Pensieves of every shape and size ; large concrete walls were lined with several Pensieves that were of various shapes and sizes.

Harry walked up to the nearest one, placed his wand to his temple and pulled out the wispy, thread-like memory of his morning conversation with Ron. He let the swirling filament float to the basin, and when it lit up, he dipped his face inside.

Instantly, Harry was transported to the cozy confines of Ron and Hermione's room. He looked around and saw himself perched on the bed staring in pitiful wonderment at Ron as he paced back and forth across the carpet. Harry's cheeks reddened in embarrassment while he witnessed the open lustful gaze his morning-self was giving his best mate. Thank Merlin Ron was too busy having a nervous breakdown to notice Harry's lecherous looks. When memory-Ron slowed his steps and stood in front of his memory-self, Harry went closer to make sure he heard everything that was being said.

"Harry, I need to talk to you about… Hermione."

Harry remembered those words because that sentence temporarily wiped all the sexy thoughts he had about Ron out of his mind.

"Well, you see… you know how much I love Hermione. She's a wonderful woman and we've been so happy but… recently I feel like I'm on the verge of fucking up everything again. I know she's forgiven me for what I've done in the past and I know she accepts my uhh… interests, but sometimes I feel like I can't control my urges anymore and I've been having wonky thoughts lately about…"

Suddenly, everything became distorted and Ron's words sounded garbled.

Harry stopped the memory and tried to understand what had happened. He restarted it from the beginning and everything seemed fine. However, once it got to the height of Ron's frantic speech, the scene became disjointed and incoherent again.

He reviewed it several times but eventually came to the horrible conclusion that the memory was corrupted.

"Shit!" Harry angrily mumbled under his breath as he stormed out of the Hall of Pensives. He just could not believe his rotten luck; all the time he wasted analyzing the memory had gotten him nowhere. Not only had he learned absolutely zilch from Ron's vague and incomplete message, but he was also horribly late in returning back to duty. Lyons was going to skin his hide.

Harry made his way to the lifts, and was relieved when he had gotten to use one alone. As soon as the doors closed he let out a frustrated growl. The red hot anger at himself and his situation had melted away the anxiety that routinely came about after he wanked to deviant thoughts of Ron and Hermione.

How could he have been so stupid? Of course the damned memory would be corrupted. He was so busy ogling Ron's sexy body that his senses had blocked out everything else. He couldn't even read his lips because his face had been blurred out as well. He really wished he could have heard the rest of the conversation because the small bit of information he received only left him even more confused.

What did Ron mean when he said that he felt like he was fucking everything up again? Could he be referring to the reason he and Hermione had briefly ended their relationship while she was finishing her seventh year at Hogwarts? Because neither of them had ever told Harry why they had broken up. And what did he mean by interest and urges? There were too many conclusions Harry could form with those words.

So, what the hell was he going to do? He really didn't want to bring himself to ask Ron to repeat what he'd said, thereby signifying his failure as a friend. Ron still had difficulty talking about his feelings and emotions. It was a rare and special occurrence for him to discuss matters of the heart and Harry had missed out on it because of his own selfish reasons.

He took his glasses off and pinched the brim of his nose and thought about his options.

Maybe he could ask Bem to help him clear up the memory's reception? The man was apprenticing under the best Pensive expert in all of London, surely he would know how to do something as simple as that?

Harry got off at Level Two and marched towards his department.

As soon as he entered, the receptionist called him over and handed him a note from Lyons. It said that he was giving Harry the rest of the day off because he suddenly had a family matter to attend.

Wow. Harry thought. He didn't have to face Lyons and he was given the rest of the day off. Maybe his luck was starting to change.

Harry quickly packed his things and made it out of the Ministry in record time. When he came up to the Disapparation point he stopped. He had intended to go straight home, get some rest, and then think about how to fix his memory problem, but then he remembered Ron would probably be there setting up for the big night. Since going home right then meant he was going to be in their way, Harry had to find something to occupy his time for the rest of the day.

After thinking about it for a moment, he decided he would go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and hang there out for a bit, and maybe go to Mrs. Tonks house afterwards, to visit with Teddy. He closed his eyes and set his destination to Diagon Alley.

Harry entered his flat and quietly closed the door behind him. Since he didn't know if his flatmates were home or not, he went straight to his room. Stripping down to his pants and not bothering to turn out the light, he flopped face down on top of his bed and flipped the sides of his duvet over his back because he was just too exhausted to get into them properly. It was late and it seemed that all the day's events were finally catching up to him.

After spending a great afternoon with George and Lee, Harry took Andromeda and Teddy to dinner and spent the rest of the evening playing with his godson. The fun he had with the hyper tyke abated all the stress that accrued from his very trying morning. Harry noted that the rambunctious little boy always seemed to have a calming effect on him whenever stressed or upset.

He decided he would think about a solution for his memory problem tomorrow and drifted off to sleep.

A little while later, he woke up with a start when he thought he heard a noise. He looked wildly around the room trying to see where the source of the disturbance had come from but he couldn't find anything. After a few seconds he laid his head back down, thinking maybe his sleep-deprived brain was hallucinating. Then he heard the noise again and realized that someone was knocking on his door.

Noooo... Harry whimpered to himself. He was so damned tired and didn't really want to answer the door. Maybe if he stayed quiet whoever it was would think he was asleep or not there.

He ignored the knocking but when the persistent git didn't take the hint, Harry let out a groan and crawled out of his duvet cocoon. Forgetting his glasses and housecoat, he blindly stumbled to the door and when he opened it, he was immediately pounced upon by …Hermione. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and squished her perky breast right into his bare chest. Harry was so shocked by her unexpected hug that he slightly fell back into the wall.

"Oh, Harry," she shouted excitedly and a little too loudly in his ear, "did you know all this time?"

He opened his mouth to speak but it was instantly flooded with her massive curls. Pulling a handful of strands out, he managed to say, "Know about what?"

She pulled back and shoved her hand in his face and said, "Know about this?"

Harry looked at her hand and tried to focus his poor eyesight on the glittering band around her finger but it only came up as a blur.

"Ron asked me to marry him, and I said yes!" She flung herself back into his arms and squeezed him tight around the neck again.

"Blimey Hermione, I know you're keyed up but let the poor man breathe." Ron said as he entered Harry's room. The redhead took a look at him and went to retrieve the glasses from the nightstand. Handing them to Harry, Ron continued, "And why are you shoving that thing in his face when you know he's blind as a bat?"

"Am not, you git," Harry retorted.

Hermione let him go and looked up at Ron.

Harry slid his glasses on just in time to see the cute little irritated face that Hermione always made when she was about to get into a bickering row with Ron.

"Well excuse me Ronald for wanting to share my happiness with my best friend." She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes at him, and turned and smiled at Harry.

"I'm sorry Harry, I was so caught up in the moment that I hadn't realized your glasses were off."

"It's fine," he laughed quietly, "congratulations! I'm so happy for the both of you!" Despite his selfish misgivings, he genuinely was happy for them. They had been crazy for each other since they were kids, and to see them finally come together as Wizard and Wife was a very lovely and beautiful thing, he thought.

"Could I see your ring again?" Harry asked, now being able to properly view it.

"Sure." Hermione held out her dainty hand and he took it.

"Wow." Harry said. Ron must have put his heart and soul into designing the ring because it was absolutely stunning "It's beautiful."

"Thanks Harry. We decided to announce the engagement at the family picnic this Saturday."

"You think you can hold it in that long?" he joked.

"I'll try." She chortled. "Oh, there's one more thing. Ron and I decided to forgo the tradition of waiting a year to get married; we're going to do it in two months."

Two months. He only had two months left with them. He really must have pissed the universe off somehow because this change of events was just too much for him to handle. Harry dug deep and miraculously maintained the smile on his face.

Ron must have gotten his wish for a speedy marriage.

"Brilliant." He forced out. He turned his back to them and tried to casually walk over to his bed. He just had to know when they were leaving but couldn't look at their faces for his next question.

"I don't mean to sound so upfront but when are you going to…umm…you know…?" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Move out?" Ron suggested.

Damn his little room. He made it to his bed before they could answer. He sat down and nodded his head.

Ron and Hermione shared a glance and then Ron said, "Well, we hope you don't mind, but we didn't plan on moving out immediately. With wedding costs and other bills, we have to save up a bit first."

"Oh, there's no need to rush. You can take as much time as you need. In fact, you never have to leave." Harry attempted to hide his honest statement as a joke.

"Aww, you're too kind." Hermione said giving him a cheeky grin. He knew she and Ron had taken his comment as a bit of cheek of his own but they didn't know that it was a desperate plea for them to stay.

"Besides, do you know how involved the process of getting a house can be?" She then went into a long speech about tax brackets and credit scores. Harry really wanted to pay attention but his heavy eyelids refused to obey him.

When Ron noticed his sleepy look, he turned and scooped Hermione up over his shoulder like a caveman. She squealed and kicked her legs, surprised by the sudden lift. Ron's firm arm over her thighs was the only thing that kept her skirt from slipping up and exposing her luscious arse.

"Put me down this instant Ronald Billius Weasley!" she shouted. Harry winced because he knew when she used his full name a fantastic row was brewing.

"Come now dear," Ron said in a condescending tone, "you can tell him all about tax braces and credit fairies in the morning."

He turned around and walked towards the door. Because of the position she was in, her face was flushed red and her blouse was pulled down revealing a bit more cleavage then she normally allowed.

"Goodnight Harry. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning, I can't say if your friend will be surviving the night to join us," she threatened.

Ron turned around and grabbed the door handle with his free hand, with a still kicking Hermione over his shoulder.

"Night, Harry." He gave him a smile and closed the door behind him.

Harry placed two silencing spells on his wall and got under his covers. He couldn't risk hearing them make love tonight because he was already tempted to wank from watching how Ron had manhandled Hermione out of his room. Hearing them rolling around in their bed would seal the deal on him doing just that.

Harry settled in and Nox'd the lights this time. For some reason a confession that Ron made to him popped in his head.

A few years ago, on a very drunken night at a pub, Harry had once asked Ron why he and Hermione bickered so much. Ron said that seeing her so fiery and angry turned him on enormously and he admitted that he often started fights just because they served as some bizarre form of foreplay to him.

Judging by Hermione's tone and threats, Ron was in for a long and passionate night.

Sometimes he wondered if Ron remembered telling him that.

Just before Harry's mind slipped from consciousness, he realized the entire time they were in his room he was wearing nothing but a pair of pants.

The universe was cruel indeed.