Arthur was ever-present in the library, and, in his opinion, so should every good Ravenclaw. But of course, he didn't have any of these lovely old wizarding books back home in the states. They were his favorite part of the entire library. Of the entire school, even.

Arthur came from a delightfully wealthy wizarding family in the states, and was treated to the finest wizarding knowledge money could buy, even shipping in a tutor freshly graduated from Hogwarts itself to teach him anything and everything that wasn't strictly speaking using magic, as he had yet to own a wand at that age.

Even though his blood was pure and came with a pedigree, his highly esteemed parents had never been more proud than the day that he received not one, but two letters on his 11th birthday, one from the American Institute of Wizardry and Witchcraft, holed up in the most obscure part of Idaho, and one from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

His parents, of course, chose the 'more prestigious' school to send him to, even if he had to endure a five hour flight before his three hour train ride from Platform 9 ¾ before he could even get to Hogwarts. Well worth it, he thought. (And lucky him, he wasn't the only American accent in the bunch)

That's beside the point, the point being, that Arthur was a regular lurk in the library. A regular lurk who, apparently, couldn't keep his ears to himself.

The best example of this being when he was reading in the stacks, and happened to overhear a pair chatting the next stack over.

(Perhaps if they'd been whispering, he wouldn't have been able to hear them. Arthur thought sullenly before continuing to listen anyway.)

"Maybe the reason he isn't responding the way you want him to is that he's not attracted to stalkers." That was Dom's voice, Arthur would recognize it anywhere. (Not like there were many American accents to choose from, even if there were a handful of them)

"I know, I know, Cobb. I just see him and I feel like I have to turn on the charm like I do with all the others." That sounded like Eames. Arthur rolled his eyes at the thought of Eames having multiple suitors. There was no way that "'ello petal" routine worked on everybody.

"That's the thing, Eames. Arthur can see through bullshit. He responds to things that are more genuine."

"So… I should send him flowers?"

Arthur could hear Dom sigh before smacking Eames, he wasn't sure where.

"No. Be yourself."

"That's a bit trite, mate."

"No, really. Show him who you really are. No tricks. No gimmicks. None of that. Be. Yourself."

"You realize that I got into Slytherin based on my tricks and gimmicks, right?"

"I do. I also know that you're not getting into anything of Arthur's with that same attitude."

Eames snorted, and even Arthur had to hold back a laugh so that he wasn't caught eavesdropping.

"So what do I do? If you're so good with ladies, surely you've got some advice to help me woo your best mate."

Arthur rolled his eyes at that one. He was not a woman, he wasn't even effeminate. Jesus.

"Be real with him. If he doesn't see who you really are, he's not going to be interested. You're a great guy, Eames, but you've got to take off the mask. And quickly, too. You've been fawning over his 'delicate brown eyes' and his 'lovely posh syntax', whatever that means, for weeks now. Go get him, Tiger."

With that, Arthur could hear Dom standing and he raced for the other end of the library, not wanting to be caught.