Professor Moriarty is nothing if not composed, brilliant, and, when it comes to you, absolutely maddening.

Every time William strolls into the teachers lounge at Durham, that calm smile already playing at the corner of his mouth, you feel your guard go up. He's always up to no good with you. Always finding a way to poke and prod your ego just to fluster you; purposefully sitting beside you during faculty dinners, whispering in your ear in board meetings, close enough that the faintest brush of his hand against yours sends a spark up your spine.

Today, he catches you in the library as you organize a stack of books in preparation for some students. He slips a slender volume from your hands, examining it with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression.

“Ah, Alice in Wonderland, hm?” he muses. “A favourite of yours, Professor?”