His robes were itchy, they scratched his neck, they felt too
tight. He couldn't possibly duel in these robes, in case a fight broke out. What was he
thinking?
Constant Vigilance! Auror Moody was always hollering, drilling into their brains.
Constant.
Vigilance.
Jake stood stiffly outside the entrance of the ballroom, watching with narrowed eyes as the guests sauntered their way in. They looked like they had no worries in the world. The war was
over, but it was never really over. No one knew when the evils could rear their dark heads again, no one----
Jake shut his eyes tightly, involuntarily pressing his back into the wall. His assignment was to go to the gala, find a table, and stay there until eleven.
Eleven. It was only eight, eleven felt like a millennium away. Eleven felt like...where was William? He said he'd
be here. Jake's breaths grew hard and his heart rate rose quickly. His hands hurt, his knees were shaking, there were just
too many people in there and he wasn't
prepared.
Fuck, fuck----He had to remind himself of his healers words, he had to tell himself that this was just a social gathering, this
wasn't a bad thing. Taking a deep breath, Jake pushed himself off the wall and quickly turned the corner into the ballroom, darting straight toward the nearest empty table. He threw himself into a chair and let out his breath. Goddamn it.
He'd been sitting in the same chair for an indeterminant amount of time when someone approached him. Jake's gaze stayed straight ahead as he wondered what he was supposed to do now. Healer Diggle had not specifically explained what to do if someone were to approach him. He'd been
approached. Jake twisted his head to take a look at the woman and his eyes involuntarily raked themselves up and down her form. After staring too long, he shook his head, turning back to the dance floor to get back to counting how many drinks the man in the red robes had taken.
