It had been quite some time since he had tied a bowtie yet his hands moved with a fluid ease. He pulled gently at his bowtie hoping it would not come undone and grinned at his reflection when he black fabric remained seated against his restrictive collar. Hands brushing against the front of his restrictive tailored robes, he nodded as if offering himself a small gesture of encouragement. Attending a gala for the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts' most generous donors was not what William would have considered to be ideal Friday evening plans, but the school's Director had made it clear that she expected him to attend and he did not intend on disappointing her.
While his mother scoffed every time his career choice was mentioned, William had found at the Academy a validation he had long been seeking. Among artists and creative minds, he had found a home that he cherished more than he cared to admit. It seemed strange to dress with such distinguished tastes to celebrate the establishment that had given him the courage to shed that superficial aspect of his life, but he was willing to do so if only for a night.
He apparated from his flat to the academy finding that guests were already filling the entrance hall. The school seemed particularly grandiose for the evening. Its beautiful chandelier had been lit and waiters carrying various trays of food and drinks were weaving through the animated crowd. William did not hesitate to grab a flute.
After a handful of extensive conversations with a few guests William made his way towards his workshop. A few minutes away from the crowd did not seem like too much to ask.