Halloween was sacred to the Marauders. It was the one day they could pull off pranks so legendary that professors either had to laugh it off or shut the school down to fix the chaos. And for Sirius Black, Halloween wasn’t just about pranks—it marked the beginning of his birthday week.
After highschool, though, the pranks were retired in favor of a new tradition: the Marauders’ Best Costume Award. The rules were simple—attend as many Halloween parties as possible, outshine everyone else, and claim the title of Halloween King. Sirius had been undefeated for years, thanks to his “flawless sense of style” (his words, not anyone else’s).
Since becoming a couple with Remus, their themed costumes had taken the game to a whole new level. Last year, they’d gone as Aziraphale and Crowley, earning a standing ovation from everyone who knew them. Though, to be fair, that wasn’t really a costume—it was just them in white and black.
But this year. Oh, this year was going to be Sirius’s magnum opus. He had spent months planning the perfect costumes. “Remus, it’s destiny,” he had said dramatically. “A queer couple with a disabled character? We’re going to be legends.”
Sirius would be Jayce and Remus would be Viktor. With Remus already using a crutch, it was like the universe itself had aligned for this moment.
The night started with Sirius fussing over Remus’s makeup, dabbing here and there while Remus leaned in to steal kisses. “Moony, I’m trying to concentrate!” Sirius complained, swatting him away half-heartedly.
“You’ve been concentrating for three hours, Pads,” Remus replied with a smirk, adjusting the tie on his Piltover Academy uniform. “If you get any more into this, you’re going to invent Hextech.”
“Not funny!” Sirius huffed. He’d even gelled his hair for this. And he’d grown out his scruff to channel Jayce’s rugged look. This was serious business.
“Alright, Mr. Man of Progress,” Remus said, grabbing his crutch. “If you want to make an entrance, we need to leave now.”
“YES,” Sirius said, still grabbing random things he insisted were “costume essentials.” As they stepped outside, he suddenly froze. “Wait. Did you remember your crutch?”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Sirius, I literally need it to walk.”
“Oh. Right. Good.”
When they arrived at the party, it was everything Sirius had dreamed of. Heads turned and someone even spilled their drink, muttering, “Bloody hell, they nailed it.” Sirius grinned, basking in the attention, pulling Remus along like they were walking a red carpet.
And then he saw it.
The back of a broad-shouldered figure in another academy uniform.
Olive skin. Wavy hair that shimmered under the lights.
Oh no.
It was James.
And next to him, with his usual “I’m better than all of you” expression, was Regulus. Wearing Viktor’s blue blanket. His long, wavy hair swept over his shoulders, with strands of white underneath.
Meanwhile, across the room, James and Regulus were completely oblivious to Sirius’s spiraling meltdown.
“You’re really pulling this off,” James said, his grin as wide as ever as he adjusted Regulus’s blanket.
“I know,” Regulus replied, casually tossing his hair over his shoulder in a way that looked both effortless and dramatic. “You, however, are doing… passably.”
“Passably?” James raised an eyebrow. “I am the embodiment of Jayce. Look at this jawline. Look at these muscles. ” He flexed for emphasis.
“Your hair’s too short,” Regulus quipped, though there was the tiniest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Ah, but I have the spirit of Jayce,” James replied, leaning closer. “You’ve got to admit, we’re killing it. And honestly…” He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at Regulus. “You make Viktor look… amazing. Really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more…”
“More what?” Regulus asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Perfect,” James said simply, his grin softening into something genuine.
Regulus rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his cheeks. “Stop being cheesy. It’s embarrassing.”
“Never,” James said, pulling him closer.
Back by the entrance, Sirius had grabbed Remus and yanked him behind a wall.
“LOOK!” Sirius hissed, pointing.
Remus peered out, took one look, and stifled a laugh. “Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, Reg does make a pretty good Viktor.”
“Good? He looks like he walked out of the bloody show! And James—ugh, look at him with his stupid muscles and his stupid charming grin. He is Jayce. It’s disgusting.”
“Well, now that you mention it, their names are kind of similar—James, Jayce. It fits,” Remus teased, clearly enjoying himself.
Sirius clutched his chest dramatically. “This is my worst nightmare. My own brother and my brother from another mother—they’ve stolen our costumes! And they’re better at it!”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “I thought this was about fun, not competition?”
“MOONY, EVERYTHING IS A COMPETITION.” Sirius peeked out again and groaned. “Look at them! They’re like… like some unholy Jayvik hybrid of perfection. The way they’re standing! The brooding looks! I’m going to throw up.”
“Well, we could just go over and say hi,” Remus suggested innocently.
“Absolutely not. I can’t face them like this. They’ll laugh at me. Regulus will laugh at me.” Sirius was pacing now, muttering under his breath. “This is betrayal. Treason. Blasphemy.”
“So… what do you want to do?” Remus asked, leaning casually against the wall.
Sirius stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Go home.”
Remus blinked. “What?”
“Go. Home. We’ll open some wine. And I’ll find a way to destroy James Potter and Regulus Black. Mark my words, Moony. This isn’t over.”
“Fine, but you're paying the take-away,” Remus said, smirking as they slipped out the door, leaving their rivals to soak up the spotlight.