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I took you by the hand and we stood tall
If Russia had to describe Hogsmede in one word, it would be: busy. From the moment they step out of the castle's doors, there's the chatter of excited students and the press of a crowd intent of getting out of the castle while they can and enjoy a day away from the oppressive air of war and uncertainty. In Hogsmede, they're just students on a free day, loitering about the stores as if they'd little else to do.
On a day like today however, where the air hangs heavy with the promise of rain, students stumble about gathering items and chattering before they fall into the warmer confines of restaurant and store alike. In the end, the street is left nearly empty as the clouds weep. There's a hint of urgency even among the idly hurried pace of the town's existence and Russia takes it as a warning, gait sure and fast. The other students and drafted might have found their ways inside to wait out the rain but as for Russia? Well, like always he's got a quest.
There's a few stores on his list, and once he's gathered a few items (somethings sweet, and somethings for Sveta, she'd never forgive him if he came back without a gift of some sort, silly owl.), he's off in the starting rain towards a more than familiar place. So maybe it's a handful of minutes later, but eventually Russia washes into the Hogshead right before the rain really starts pouring down. He hardly spares the customers who hiss at his wet appearance a second glance and merely wanders to the back where he's hoping Latvia's waiting for him.
On a day like today however, where the air hangs heavy with the promise of rain, students stumble about gathering items and chattering before they fall into the warmer confines of restaurant and store alike. In the end, the street is left nearly empty as the clouds weep. There's a hint of urgency even among the idly hurried pace of the town's existence and Russia takes it as a warning, gait sure and fast. The other students and drafted might have found their ways inside to wait out the rain but as for Russia? Well, like always he's got a quest.
There's a few stores on his list, and once he's gathered a few items (somethings sweet, and somethings for Sveta, she'd never forgive him if he came back without a gift of some sort, silly owl.), he's off in the starting rain towards a more than familiar place. So maybe it's a handful of minutes later, but eventually Russia washes into the Hogshead right before the rain really starts pouring down. He hardly spares the customers who hiss at his wet appearance a second glance and merely wanders to the back where he's hoping Latvia's waiting for him.
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He doesn't like waiting in the Hogshead alone, and a part of him wishes Alois would have come along to keep him company. He probably wouldn't have minded seeing Russia here with him - might love to, even, but....
That is why he came alone. He didn't explain why he wanted to go here of all places before the rain, not beyond a wish for one good drink before going back to school. But the Hogshead is not charming and it looks so unpleasant from the outside and Alois is not going to walk that far on a rainy day -
He takes only a small swig, still having it in mind to wait for Russia before really tipping a few mugs of firewhiskey back, and stares into his current one turning clockwise and counter-clockwise in his hands. He's typically ignored sitting back here, at first a tiny spectacle, but the type to easily fade in the background amongst wizards who cared not a patron's age. The whispers and mutterings of the pub, low and few between, seem to pick up after a while of waiting, and Latvia brightens only a little.
He isn't alone anymore, but he has a much larger, wet wizard about to join him in his booth. Mixed feelings, but not unwelcome ones.
"Y-you won't dry off first, Ivan?" A human name amongst human folk, at least while his voice still needs to carry. He's tempted to pull out his wand and use a drying spell himself if he has to, but he isn't the most experienced with them. So instead of his hand slipping into his pocket, his palm rests at his side.
He pats the seat beside him; welcome, friend.
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"Ah, that would be a good idea wouldn't it." Oops! It takes a moment but soon enough there's a spell upon his lips and wand in hand, clothes and hair drying near instantly. Once dry, he settles in next to Latvia and lets his smile turn sheepish, "Sorry about that, Raivis."
Soon enough there's a mug of Firewhiskey in his own hands and Russia takes a swig. It's not really his drink of choice, but he'll certainly take what he can get. Besides, drinking with a friend is the best part of this pub. So he leans back into the booth and muses into the mug "It's pourin' out there, we might be stuck here for a bit."
Not a bad thing necessarily, but still.
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He's more troubled by the idea of having to enjoy the rest of his drink - so far his only one, on top of that - too quickly, than any particular discipline. Out of nerves, he takes a long swig before any reassurance can reach his ears. Just in case.
Setting his mug down again with a clack he chokes, "But - w-we won't miss the carriages home, will we?"
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Nobody bothers with the two nations sitting by themselves and that's just fine with them. Here's a swig of Firewhiskey, violet gaze sweeping over the pub and landing on his companion once more. He easily picks up on the nerves, tilts his head.
"Do you want to buy more to take back to the castle instead?"
fuck da police
Getting what can safely be looked on as a whole case of vodka back to the dorm, lightly, quietly, with no suspicious shapes deforming their bags, honestly leaves him with enough of a rush to run down they halls as though they'd just pulled a heist (a paid for heist, but he won't miss this allowance).
Of course most of his excitement is left to shiver its way out of his system by the time they get to enjoy any of it, the common room too crowded for them to enjoy the day's spoils in peace on their return. Latvia hides them under his bed, begging Alois not tell with more pleading than he needs to, unaware as ever how entertaining he is to the fairer blond. Then, when he's fallen asleep, when it seems everyone in the dungeon has, he eases himself out of Alois' arms with a promise to apologize in the morning for leaving.
For now is when he returns to the common room, to a corner lit at most by what moonlight's strayed down through the lake surface. His bag's set down, "Finite Incantatem" casted quiet as a mouse, and in the dark he grins.
"To magic, huh?"
cant be tamed
Still. He looks up and greets Latvia with a quiet grin a match of the one upon his fellow nation's face.
"To magic, indeed!" A murmur, warm and pleased, gaze curious. "Nobody noticed?"
Not that he thinks they'd care, really.
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Charm it open he could, but this way just feels right (and gives his hands something to cooperate for). The first whiff of what's inside has him give a little hum before he tips it back, glancing the way of Russia's work before swallowing with a duck of his head, long after second year ought to, probably.
"We haven't tried this one, I think... familiar?"
Nothing like a taste test between feet of parchment....
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Russia hums softly in response, jots something down to finish a sentence and carefully sets aside his quill so it doesn't drip everywhere. The two bottles garner a grin, because of course Latvia gets him. There's something familiar and relaxing in popping the cork from his bottle and Russia takes a moment to savor this, to savor the first taste of the alcohol upon his tongue.
"Faintly." Another swallow, brow quirked. "Not bad -- better than what we got last time I think."
His head turns, violet gaze fond as it lingers upon his fellow nation.