Spells are frightful sometimes, difficult for Latvia to trust or trust in himself to use. But it has its uses, perks that make him almost giddy with the ease it can offer, if done by someone who knows what they're doing.

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?"