In the quiet of the library, the gentle sound of rustling pages was the only disturbance as Hermione immersed herself in a survival book. She was a sponge, soaking up every piece of knowledge, her survival now measured by the depth of her acquired skills. Books—volumes on everything from botany to field medicine—were stacked high beside her. The scene was one of deceptive peace, momentarily untouched by the apocalypse outside. Unfortunately, that serenity was about to be shattered by a certain hunter.
Arthur appeared silently behind her. Hermione wasn't totally engrossed in the text; her senses, though occupied, were not entirely dulled. He slammed his hand on the table—bang— "Found you," he said. Hermione instantly whipped around, her flip knife flicking open and thrusting toward Arthur's neck. Recognizing him, she arrested her movement, the blade stopping barely an inch from his throat. Arthur raised an eyebrow, his face inches from hers, and smiled with amusement. "Ohh? Feisty," he murmured, the faint scent of wine on his breath.
"Why are you going around startling people, Kenway?" Hermione demanded, suddenly conscious of their proximity. Arthur chuckled and used his finger to gently push the deadly blade away from his neck. "I've been looking for you, Miss Detective."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"To ask why you kept looking at me. It's bothering me; it feels like you're dissecting every bit of information in me," Arthur answered directly.
Taken aback, Hermione paused, then replied slowly. "Because you're weird," she said, then continued, seeing him listen. "Back at the quarry, during the attack, you looked surprised for a moment when you saw me, as if you recognized me."
"Didn't ever think that maybe I fell in love with you at first sight? Hence the reaction?" Arthur said calmly, a small smile plastered on his face. 'Holy shit, I'm having a face-to-face with Emma fucking Watson, a close one at that,' his inner fanboy screamed.
Hermione felt her heart accelerate, a blush creeping into her cheeks. 'Calm down, Hermione, he might be messing with you,' she mentally cautioned. She acted unfazed. "Are you?" she challenged, focusing her gaze on his face, attempting to read his true intent.
"There's this feeling again, the feeling of someone observing, reading, and deducing me," Arthur said, a clear hint that he knew. Hermione stared at him in shock. 'How? I've used this ability on other people many times, and they didn't even notice. Did he find out? But how?' A wave of panic rose, causing her to stutter. Arthur simply watched her. 'I knew it, a Sequence 8 of the Reader pathway, huh? Sequence 7 are masters in combat, and she's just slightly okay.'
Seeing Arthur silently staring, particularly at such close range, only intensified her panic. She had seen him in action; if he genuinely intended to kill her, she would be defenseless. She instinctively closed her eyes as she saw Arthur's left hand slowly lift toward her neck. But instead of the expected choke, she felt his hands cup her cheeks and his lips meet hers. She responded to the kiss unconsciously.
Arthur pulled back. "Are you calm now, Miss Detective?"
Hearing his voice, Hermione slowly opened her eyes to see Arthur wearing a teasing smile. A blush slowly crept back onto her cheeks. 'This guy is totally messing with me,' she thought, as she stuttered. "Ye... yeah," she managed.
"Let's say it directly then: when did you have this ability?" Arthur asked, subtly glancing toward the door.
Hermione sighed and replied, "I always have this ability; it just grew stronger as I grew up. Back then, I thought I was just naturally smart, but as years went by, it kept improving, to the point where I can notice small things that others overlook. I could even deduce situations that even a detective finds hard to investigate." She paused to take a deep breath. She continued, "If I use my senses to be mindful and aware as much as possible of my environment, looking at, gathering, and recalling my surroundings in great detail, it further enhances my ability to deduce a situation."
Hearing this, Arthur smiled. "Seems like we're the same, Hermione. A Hunter and a Reader," he said, again glancing at the door.
Behind the door, Amy was hiding. She had witnessed Arthur kissing Hermione and felt a sharp sting of hurt. It was rare to find a decent guy she liked these days. 'Why can't it be me? I tried talking to you while she avoided you; you just met her, too,' the thoughts raced through her head. She fought back tears, hurt but also vaguely happy that her friend had found a guy.
Hermione looked toward the door and saw nothing. "Assuming that the Hunter symbolizes you, and the Reader is me... why Reader?" she asked.
Arthur leaned back and shrugged. "I don't know, it just clicked. Anyway, night, Miss Detective," he said, slowly walking toward the door.
Hermione stood up, grabbed his sleeve, and asked in a low voice, "Earlier, when you said, maybe you fell in love at first sight... is it true?" Arthur turned back, and instead of answering, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "What do you think?" he asked with a smile before walking away. "Good night, Hermione. Let's continue our talk next time." Hermione stood there, a small smile forming on her face. She sat back down and continued reading, this time with a genuine, quiet joy.
Arthur walked briskly down the hallway. He had noticed someone at the door earlier, and using his enhanced auditory and olfactory senses, he determined it was Amy based on her weight and smell. 'Sorry, Amy, but with Hermione being here, you'll just have to look for another guy,' he thought. He had noticed Amy's feelings but couldn't reciprocate, especially with Emma Watson, aka Hermione Granger, in the picture. 'Plus, Amy is not my type,' he concluded. He arrived at his sleeping quarters in no time. He took off his shoulder holster, placing it with his bow, rifle, and dirk. After that, he lay down and closed his eyes, feeling that tomorrow would be an intense and exciting day.