Chapter Text
Aziraphale and Crowley were angels. The former was an angel (retired) while the latter was an angel (fallen). They were meant to assimilate into human society so they thought what better than to be professors. Around the 1800s the pair got bored and decided to take up a job. Not for the money obviously but just for the hell/heaven of it. Students on the campus never paid much attention to their teachers. They couldn't care less about their teachers as long as they got a good grade. That wasn’t the case for these two teachers. Almost every student who took their classes knew about the special friendship of Professor Azira Fell and Professor Anthony J. Crowley. Aziraphale and Crowley did not always mingle with the other professors on campus. Besides the occasional hello, they never kept too much of a friendship with the other professors.
In between Professor Fell’s English lectures, he would tell stories about his week and almost every single one of them involved Professor Crowley. The same can be said about Professor Crowley.
Professor Crowley was always fond of history. Since he lived through it all, it was more like strolling down memory lane instead of a lecture. He felt that way and so did his students. Out of all the teachers, the students always found him the most entertaining. All of his students knew about his friendship with Professor Fell. Professor Crowley would somehow manage to mention Professor Fell in every lecture.