William James Moriarty

19th century.
A huge window at the very end of the library brightly illuminated all the wooden cutouts on the bookshelves, left behind by unruly students with scissors, and the beautiful patterns on the ceiling—certainly carved by some accomplished Swedish craftsman. Oxford libraries have always been noted for their particular grandeur, but this place decided to bend that rule. It certainly wasn't poor—all the books were evenly distributed, the shelves were free of dirt and dust—but it couldn't compare in size to the Bodleian Library, though perhaps that was part of its understated yet equally beautiful charm.
William, one of the top students, sat by the window, watching the people passing by. He was only waiting for the silhouette of the chemistry detective, with whom their lesson was scheduled to begin in three minutes.