Disclaimer: How to Tell If you own a Multi-Million Dollar Book Series, part one- Are you getting any money from said property? Nope. It's not yours. I guess it belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers.

It had been around 5 minutes since Hermione's coughing fit which somehow went unnoticed by the passersby, and Harry was still trying to apologize for causing it.

"Really Hermione, I am so sorry. I was trying to be as direct as possible so I wouldn't stumble over everything. You know how difficult this sort of thing is for me…

Her brain on automatic shut down, Hermione was only able to absentmindedly nod her head throughout his hastily delivered explanation. To be completely honest, a good portion of whatever Harry was fumbling his way through saying was lost on her, as her mind was still reeling from the bluntness of his previous statement. It actually felt as though a Bludger had been thrown into her skull to automatically seek out cobwebs.

'Hmm…a Bludger has a rounded – edge, can it really be considered a blunt trauma? Consider the textbook definition of Blunt is 'of having a worn-down edge or point, i.e. not sharp. Can a round object be considered to have a worn edge, especially considering a round object has no edge, or would the round surface of the ball constitute an edge? Proposing you can roll the ball in a straight line without it deterring from its course, so long as you roll it entirely in a straight-forward fashion. Ironically, 'in a straight-forward fashion' is the second definition of Blunt. So a Blunt Bludger would have an edge if it is rolled bluntly. It would follow logically that you would stab something bluntly, or rather 'straight –forwardly' also. If the edge was blunt, you would have to stab repeatedly to achieve the desired effect. Over and over, back and forth, in and out, almost like….'

"…and I've had maybe TWO women that I can call girlfriends in the entirety of my dating life, and neither of them was in the last four years. So I'm begging for your help because I'm starting to think that maybe something is wrong with me."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, his eyes widened as he immediately launched himself backward, off the seat and onto the floor to avoid the impressive spit-take of butterbeer that had left his best friend's mouth following another bulging of her eyes.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!"

Harry, though he had survived more than his fare share of evil teachers, psychotic government officials, and megalomaniacs, still froze in terror at the sight of an angry Hermione Granger. Frankly, the look on her face at the moment, though abated slightly by the embarrassed incredulity in her features, almost perfectly mirrored her expression when Ron had returned during the Horcrux Hunt, when demanding her wand. It was after times such as these that he and Ron both secretly looked through some of the older books from the Black family library, just to compare her actions with those of beings such as Inferi, the possessed and even Boggarts. They had even begun brewing her tea with Holy Water, just to have some hoops covered, as the Wizard version of the old saying went.

Harry of course would never admit to any of this, and had implemented a safety measure long ago that would activate should she ever find out about such actions. Of course with the safety measure a voice activated spell, he immediately Obliviated himself of knowledge of said spell should it ever actually be used against him. As such, he found himself desperately searching for a word, which he forgot, in order to activate something that he had a vague inkling about, in order to avoid the wrath of Hermione Granger, which and whom he was at the moment VERY aware of.

"I said, I ...er… need your help because I can't find a lasting girlfriend and I think something may be…um…wrong with me … which is preventing me from…y'know…finding someone."

At this point, Hermione very quickly stood and strode in a near run to the floo point which would allow her to get home, and Harry, absolutely bewildered at her response, followed after her.

-HP-

They arrived home to find Ron had already left for the shop, leaving the two alone to discuss Harry's problem.

Or that would have been what Harry thought was going to happen. Instead Hermione arrived home, set down her bag, took off her coat and shoes, and poured herself a very familiar drink.

After the War, Harry discovered that his friends, despite having vastly differing palates and tolerances, all indulged in one specific drink, a Muggle drink known as a 'Four Horsemen' comprising of various oddly named brands.

Harry knew the story of the Four Horsemen from the Bible when his Uncle Vernon decided to loudly read from the Book of Revelations in the hopes of driving out any magic that may have settled in the house. The only reason he knew of them was because his Uncle claimed that this was the only place in the entire thing in which anything exciting occurred. This proved his Uncle of being not only prejudiced against magic, but also not even attempting to comprehend anything about the differing religions at all especially the one which he claimed to be a part of, being a 'God fearing Englishman' and so on.

Hermione's father, upon being asked about the drink explained the Horsemen, War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death, were represented by the differing liquors, usually in reference to their names, such as Famine being Jim 'Bean' and War being 'Captain' Morgan and so on. Ron confided in him several months ago that everyone followed a very specific recipe….which consisted of imbibing a large glass of 'Potter's Whiskey' immediately followed by the 'Horsemen', because trouble inevitably followed whenever Harry asked for help with something. It wasn't his fault, as he himself had stated during the Horcrux Hunt, 'We plan, we get there, and all hell breaks loose.'

Harry understood that the only time his friends ever drank this particular drink was when they felt something involving him would require a little more push than normal to participate in.

After taking several long swigs of literally 'Gryffindor spirits', Hermione felt she had calmed down enough to actually hold a conversation…with someone other than herself that is.

"So, what you're asking me is to look at your sex life, figure out what you're doing wrong, or if you have any strange subconscious kinks you need worked out, then to actually coach you through correcting said kinks and mistakes?"

She took another swig to steady herself

"Don't you think this seems a little too…hands on?"

Harry poured himself a small glass of Potter's, it didn't hurt him any that they chose to drink something like that. Besides, he was pretty sure he owned a sizable portion of that company anyway… so it was a win for everyone.

"Not really, I mean, you have enough experience with this sort of thing already, and you and Ron had more kinks than a wad of tin foil."

Harry felt the temperature of the room go down slightly, and double-checked to be certain he hadn't poured himself any fire whiskey.

'Nope, Muggle brand…so what caused…'

It was at this precise moment that Harry glanced upward to see the expression on Hermione's face. It was difficult to describe later, but it seemed as if she had found a spell which forced absolutely all anger and fury to be visible in one's eyes.

"Harry….I am giving you a generous amount of time to actually analyze what you just said. Once you are done, you should rephrase your statement immediately, as I am certain you would never actually say something like that to someone like me. Am I correct in my assumptions?"

The intern's mind froze for what seemed like forever. Something very rare was occurring and he knew he had done something almost unforgivable. Hermione had very specific levels of anger, and you could easily tell where you were on the 'Granger Danger Scale'.

One of the very rarely seen levels was just before what they assumed was total cataclysmic destruction of the offending person. It was a dreaded stillness that few had ever seen. This 'Hallowed Calm' was easily recognizable as Hermione would suddenly cease using contractions, and her face would take on a soft, serene smile. The immediate response to this was of course to backpedal carefully and as soon as possible. Harry quickly searched through his mind for what triggered it.

'Come on brain, please don't fail me now. Okay the last thing she said was it might be a little too 'hands on'. Is that the problem? I mean how else would she examine my previous relationships, by hearing about them afterwards? Wait…something's not right here. I said something else; bugger it all, what WAS it?'

Suddenly, Harry had an epiphany and thought he was saved, until he realized exactly how deep of a hole he had dug for himself.

'Okay, I know I called it something else, I didn't use the word relationships, my "dates"? No, that's not it. Was it my "outings"? No, it's something bigger, more encompassing. Could it be my love life? There shouldn't be anything wrong with that. Lots of people have a love life, present thinker notwithstanding, but it's vital in having a….

'Oh.'

Suddenly their entire conversation flew through his ears.

"…because I can't find a lasting girlfriend"

"…something may be…um…wrong with me"

"… figure out what you're doing wrong,"

"…any strange subconscious kinks"

"…correcting said kinks and mistakes"

"…a little too…hands on?"

"…you have enough experience with this sort of thing."

"…more kinks than a wad of tin foil."

"…certain you would never actually say something like that to someone like me."

"I need your help studying my sex life."

'Oh Dear Merlin and Morgana.'

This was bad. This was very bad. He could rob Dumbledore's grave, dress his corpse up as Voldemort, force it and Fred Weasley to do a can-can on the Burrow front lawn, and proceed to slaughter the entire Wizengamot with Imperius-ed war orphans, and the backlash would seem like a mild talking to compared to what was about to occur. And that scenario factored in EVERY remaining Weasley killing him in various torturous ways, while Molly screamed at him.

"Um…Hermione…I think this has all been a…very…very heinous misunderstanding."

Hermione turned her head more towards him so slowly, he was certain would hear a creak at some point.

"How so, Harry? I could not imagine what sort of misunderstanding this could possibly hope to be."

Harry breathed deeply and went all in.

"I need your help studying my DATING LIFE. I can't seem to find the right girl and I'm worried something may be preventing me from finding her."

Noticing her face relax slightly, Harry continued

"I'm Harry James Potter, Conqueror of Voldemort, Slayer of Big Pointy-Teethed 'Kill-you-soon-as-look-at-you' Beasties, and I can't find a girl to date for more than an outing or two. Since you're my best friend and Ron has certain qualities which make asking him a worse mistake than walking in on Filch and Umbridge's private cat time I'm begging you to help me."

Hermione looked at him for a long moment before responding,

"So, you weren't propositioning me to practice…."

Harry calmed slightly hearing the contraction and immediately turned a deeper red than his old Quidditch Jersey when he finished understanding her sentence, waving his hands wildly back and forth,

"NO no nononononnnno. That is definitely NOT what I was asking. I'm fairly certain I'm doing just fine in that department. Really, no practice required. One hundred percent satisfied. I just need your help working through Relationship kinks."

Harry got on his knees and very slowly put one in front of the other until he was right in front of her with his hands clasped together,

"PLEEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSSEEEE, Hermione. I really need your help. It's killing me going on these dates and not finding anyone."

Hermione gauged his face and seeing his lower lip begin to poke out and wobble,

'Oh bugger.'

"Okay. I'll help you with this, but only because your sulking is driving us up the walls. As much fun as it is to see you beg and whine in a frankly uncanny resemblance to our favorite departed "Grim old" dog, I can't keep watching this."

Harry's ears actually perked up as she said this, further making her wonder if it was possible for children to take after their godparents.

'Oh, I worry for whoever has to deal with Teddy later on, especially considering that since he inherited his mother's Metamorphmagus abilities, he could LITERALLY give himself 'puppy dog eyes' at four years old.

"So…you'll help me?"

Harry's eyes were shining with hope as he scooted closer, eager to hear her reply

"Yes…I'll help you study."

Harry jumped straight in the air and, in a bit of possibly accidental magic, caused himself to float in midair long enough to do a small jig.

"Now, can I go back to work? I'm almost done with my lunch break and I don't want to be late getting back."

Harry landed back on the ground and helped her out of her seat, casting Sobriety and Breath Charms as he did so.

"Thanks for that, I don't want to go back to the Ministry smelling like the inside of a bottle."

"No problem whatsoever. You take all the time in the world you need at work. We can get started tomorrow."

Hermione strode into the already green fireplace

"Fine, I have the day off tomorrow anyway."

"Oh, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure any kinks, Relationship or otherwise, you had with Ron were very few and completely natural."

Harry later thanked his honed Seeker and Danger (not Danger- Seeking) reflexes for being able to outrun the flaming paper birds she flung at him as she disappeared.