DISCLAIMER: This is a FANFICTION. The characters, setting and story belong to the original author. I do not own any of it. This is just for fun, chill.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've never posted fanfiction anywhere before, so I'm not sure if I'm doing this right but hi, here I am. Anyway, this is a four-parter and I'll post the other 3 parts if anyone actually wants them. I'm sorry in advance, I even ripped my own heart out with this one. This first section doesn't have anything too heavy so I don't have any content warnings... this is just me wanting to live out my domestic Wolfstar fantasy. Yes, Wolfstar. You're welcome. It's clean Wolfstar, though, you pervs. I've taken a lot of creative liberties with the source material and my own headcanons, obviously, so don't come for me about it. We're just having fun, my dudes.
Enjoy... while you can ;)
“Right, how do I look?”
Sirius straightened and studied his reflection on the blank TV screen. He had insisted on buying one for the flat when they had first moved in--Remus didn’t understand his fascination, but Sirius had never been permitted to use muggle technology growing up. The allure of such forbidden fruit had been too much to resist, but the novelty had quickly worn off. Now it mostly served as an overpriced mirror, since they both preferred either reading or listening to records.
When his question was met with silence, Sirius scooped up a balled-up sock that had somehow made its way beneath the coffee table and whipped it at Remus’ head.
“Oi! Moony!” he barked. “I said how do I look?”
Remus barely looked up from the book in his lap. He rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched up in a small smile. “You look bloody ridiculous,” he said, straightening his reading glasses where the sock had knocked them askew. “And what did I say about leaving your dirty laundry lying about like that? I’m not a house elf, last I checked.”
Sirius smirked beneath the garish muggle Halloween mask that covered his face. When Remus had told him about the muggle tradition of dressing up in costume, he had practically keeled over with laughter. He had dragged Remus all over London that week in search of a Halloween costume scary enough to live up to his vision. It had to be perfect. In the end he had opted for a rubber mask that looked like a cross between a zombie and some kind of sea creature.
“Have some fun for once, would you?” Sirius complained. “James will love it, just wait.”
“No doubt,” Remus drawled, finally looking up. He closed his book and crossed his arms, giving Sirius a skeptical look. “Unless Lily beats him to the door and mistakes the masked intruder for, oh, I dunno, a death eater? You’ll end up in St. Mungo’s for a week!”
“Lily of all people should understand the basic concept of tricks and trolls,” Sirius shrugged. “She grew up with muggles, didn’t she?”
Remus laughed out loud at this. The sound made Sirius smile again beneath his mask; the occasions on which he heard that sound were few and far between these days. “Tricks and what? Don’t you mean trick or treat?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Sirius examined his reflection on the TV again, hunching his shoulders and raising his hands like claws in a bizarre pantomime. He shook his head so his shaggy black mane fell haphazardly over the mask. He stumbled toward the couch, groaning and grunting theatrically.
“I’m coming to get you, Moony,” Sirius rasped as he loomed over Remus.
“Bugger off,” Remus muttered, moving to stand. “I’m serious!”
But before he could get up, Sirius sprang forward and leaped astride him, his shins on the couch on either side of Remus’ hips, pinning him against the secondhand couch's faded cushions.
“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius joked, his face inches from Remus’. “So, do I look scary?”
“Terrifying,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes. “Now get off. There’s a war on, you know. Are you sure now is… you know... a good time for pranks? Especially after...”
Remus’ voice trailed off. His smile faltered and suddenly his honey-brown eyes were a deep well of sadness. This was the expression Sirius was used to seeing on his boyfriend's face these days. He cleared his throat, searching his mind for a way to change the subject. He didn’t want to think about Marlene, or the rest of the McKinnons, or anyone else they had lost. Not right now, at least. That was all any of them had thought about for months. And with James and Lily in hiding...
“Moony, my lad,” he said decisively, ruffling Remus’ sandy hair with one hand. “Now is arguably the best time for some good old fashioned mischief. We could all use a good laugh. Don’t you remember the fun we’d get up to on Halloween, back at school? We were the marauders, for Merlin’s sake.”
A twitch of a smile lit up Remus’ features at the mention of their old nickname, and to Sirius’ relief that faraway look in his eyes seemed to dissipate just a bit.
“Like when James enchanted every jack-o-lantern in the castle to insult anyone who walked by?” Remus recalled with a quiet chuckle.
“Or when Pete planted all those dung bombs in the Slytherins’ mashed potatoes during the Halloween feast second year,” Sirius added with a grin. “Filch couldn’t get rid of the smell for weeks! I mean it, Moony. It’s high time the marauders rode again.” He puffed out his chest proudly, still straddling Remus between his long legs. “And I, personally, am happy to take on the job.”
“Your grand sacrifice is duly noted,” Remus replied dryly, twisting the collar of Sirius' shirt into his fist and pulling him forward. He lifted the Halloween mask off Sirius’ face so it rested on his forehead and leaned forward to give Sirius a quick peck on the tip of his nose.
“Your sarcasm is also duly noted, and not appreciated,” Sirius retorted, pouting.
Remus’ answering grin brought out the deep creases in the corners of his eyes. Studying Moony's scarred face, Sirius could just make out the worry lines on his forehead and around his mouth. Remus had aged so much in the few short years since they had graduated from Hogwarts and joined the Order. They all had. At least, those of them who were left.
A pang of emotion coursed through Sirius’ veins. He leaned in and pressed his lips briefly against Remus’. “I love you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Remus replied, kissing him again. “Wanker.”
Sirius was about to deepen the kiss when the doorbell rang. They both jumped. Instinctively, both of their hands flew to their pockets for their wands.
Sirius recovered first, springing to his feet and going to the window. Three small figures stood huddled outside the door to their walk-up, each dressed in costume. Relief flooded his chest. With a gleeful shout, Sirius retrieved the large bowl of muggle candy he had prepared earlier that day (he had wanted to add a few chocolate frogs to the mix just to freak out the muggles, but Remus had instantly vetoed that idea) and replaced the Halloween mask over his face.
“Our first victims of the night,” Sirius announced with an exaggerated evil cackle.
Remus' brows furrowed with confusion for a moment, but the trick or treaters' giggles could be heard from the street and after a moment it clicked. He rolled his eyes again. “Of all the ridiculous…”
“Oh, come on, Grumpy Ghoul,” Sirius cajoled. “What was the point of moving to muggle London if we can’t have some fun with it? When in Rome, and all that.”
He wrenched open the interior door before Remus could argue and practically flew down the stairs to greet the trick-or-treaters.
“Trick or treat!” they chorused. One was dressed as a scarecrow, the other as Frankenstein’s monster. Sirius remembered reading that book in muggle studies. The third was dressed in a black cape, with white paint slathered all over his face and a pair of oversized plastic fangs that distorted his speech. His hair was slicked back with some kind of oil.
Sirius arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing the fanged child. “And what are you supposed to be?”
“I’m a vampire!” the kid quipped. Sirius laughed loudly.
“What?” he gasped through his giggles. “That’s ridiculous. You look nothing like a vampire.”
“How would you know?” the kid huffed, clearly offended. “Vampires aren’t real.”
“Wanna bet?” Sirius said, smirking. “They’re real, alright. And I can promise you, they’re a lot scarier than that. This one time, my Uncle Alphard--”
“Sirius!” Remus’ voice floated down the stairs from behind him. Sirius looked over his shoulder with a sheepish grin.
“Right, sorry, Moony,” Sirius said loudly. “Of course vampires aren’t real. Happy Halloween, kids.” He tossed a few candy bars into each of their pillow cases. As he moved to close the door Sirius looked the vampire kid in the eye and silently mouthed ‘they’re real!’ The boy's eyes widened.
As he made his way back up the stairs, Remus met him in the doorway with crossed arms.
“Merlin, Pads, you’ll have the ministry at our door for breaking the Statute of Secrecy at this rate,” he reprimanded.
Sirius threw the back of his hand against his forehead and swooned dramatically. “But I’m far too pretty for prison,” he cried, flinging himself into Remus’ arms. Remus chuckled and set Sirius back in an upright position with his hands on his shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. The guy was stronger than he looked.
“Indeed,” he said. “You’re definitely not tough enough for prison. How ever would you survive without your daily hair care routine?”
Remus gave one of Sirius’ shiny, smooth locks a tug. Sirius darted out of his reach with a cry of annoyance. “Not the hair!” he complained. “Besides, I’m plenty tough.”
“Right,” Remus replied doubtfully, moving into the kitchen and removing his wand from his pocket. “Aguamenti,” he commanded, pointing it at the kettle on the stove. It filled itself with clear water.
“Well, tough guy, It's getting late. Are you going trick-or-treating at the Potters’ like the overgrown child you are, or am I making tea for two?”
“Raincheck on the tea for now,” Sirius replied. He grabbed his leather jacket from the hook next to the door and shrugged it over his narrow shoulders. “Have you seen my bike keys?”
Remus shook his head. “I don’t know why you insist on riding that death trap all over the place when you could just apparate.”
“Because it’s more fun this way, obviously,” Sirius replied. He flicked his wand in the air. “Accio keys!”
There were several jingling noises throughout the apartment as every pair of keys they owned sprang to action. Four heavy keyrings came whizzing through the air at Sirius’ head, all from different directions. Their respective house keys, Remus’ car keys and Sirius’ bike keys. Sirius ducked out of the way at the last second and all four keyrings collided with one another in midair. They fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
“Nice one, genius,” Remus chuckled, shaking his head and gazing warmly at Sirius as he sorted through the mess to find his bike key.
“I’ll admit, I could have been more specific,” he admitted, flashing Remus one of his trademark smouldering grins. “But how would you entertain yourself all day if you didn’t have me to worry about?”
“I ask myself that question every day,” Remus joked, but then his eyes grew serious. “Come home to me, alright? Be safe. Don’t die.”
"I'll do my best," Sirius replied, equally serious now. His icy blue eyes locked onto Remus' for a few long moments, drinking him in. He reached out and gave his hand a tight squeeze.
'Be safe, don't die' had become the standard farewell exchange in their household. At first it had been reserved strictly for Order missions, but now they said it every time either of them left the flat. The war had taken a turn in recent months. They were losing, and as “Named Enemies of the Dark Lord” each of the marauders now had a bright red target on their back.
Half way through the doorway, Sirius turned around. "Don't forget to answer the door for the kids," he scolded. "At least try to have fun with it."
"No promises," Remus muttered, but the smile on his face said he would honour the request, even if it was just for Sirius' sake. "I'll see you soon. I’d come with you, but I’m knackered… Full moon’s coming up. Give James and Lily my best. And give Harry a kiss from Uncle Moony, will you?"
"’Course,” Sirius replied. “I'll be back before you know it."
With one last trademark Sirius Black grin over his shoulder at Remus, he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him. Halloween mask in hand, Sirius bounded down the stairs and out to the drive they shared with their downstairs neighbours. He fixed his shiny black bike with a loving gaze.
Sirius’ motorbike was his most prized possession. He thought back to the long summer days he, James, Remus and Pete would spend hanging around the muggle village down the road from the Potters' place when they were kids, watching the motorcycles roar by with awe. That was when Sirius had pledged to someday own one of his own.
He had scrimped and saved (unfortunately his interest in motorbikes had sparked after his disownment, when his access to the Black family funds had been revoked) and in the end it was his surrogate father, Fleamont Potter, who had found a great deal on a Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville at a muggle estate auction. Sirius and their fellow Order member Arthur Weasley had spent months working on the bike after that, outfitting it with what they called "some minor modifications." To this day, Remus and Pete flat-out refused to get on the thing. But James had been delighted when the project was finally complete. Naturally, years of barely-legal hijinx had ensued.
Sirius smiled absently at the fond memory, and for the thousandth time that day he found himself missing his best friend. He longed for the days when he and James would wake up early in their dorm at Hogwarts and head down to the quidditch pitch before anyone else could claim it, or the long afternoons spent relaxing by the lake, attempting to hex the giant squid... or the odd Slytherin. It had been years since the four of them had gotten together, Sirius realized. Peter had been MIA for months now, most likely busy with his cushy new Ministry job, and Sirius had hardly seen James since he and Lily had been forced to take Harry into hiding. The last time the five of them had been in the same room together was at Marlene’s funeral last month.
After the Potters went into hiding, visits became a rarity. Even as one of the privileged few who knew the Potters’ location, it was far too dangerous for anyone--even Sirius--to make regular trips to Godric's Hollow. Still, Sirius felt strongly that a Halloween prank was as good a reason as any to make the journey tonight. Sure, maybe his reasoning was selfish in part, but Sirius Black without James Potter was like a key without a lock.
He kickstarted the bike and the engine came to life with a deafening roar. Sirius rode the muggle way to a field about 10 minutes away, where he could safely take off without being seen by any non-magic eyes. He wished he had the invisibility cloak, but James had written to them weeks ago with the news that Dumbledore had borrowed the cloak on Order business. The bike wasn’t exactly covert, and if anyone were following him...
Sirius tried to banish that thought from his mind. He kicked the flying mechanism into gear; it stuck once or twice before finally catching, and he was off. As the houses grew smaller and smaller below him, Sirius was thankful that the skies were clear that night. In fact, it was quite beautiful. He hadn’t bothered to put on his helmet, so the cool night air whipped through his hair. The stars sparkled in the sky around him, the moon lighting his way. The scent of dry leaves and diesel surrounded him, and Sirius felt his face light up in a wide grin.
It had been a few weeks since he had the chance to take a night ride like this. He and Remus spent almost all of their time now on missions for the Order. These rare few moments of freedom reminded Sirius of the life he and Remus had been building together. The life the war had seemingly stolen out from under them while they weren’t looking.
He felt the sharp sting of resentment building in his chest at the very thought of Dumbledore's bloody war, but tried to suppress the feeling. It was Halloween, after all. The marauders' favourite holiday. Nothing bad could happen on Halloween.
Although they were rare, Sirius always enjoyed his visits at the Potters’ cottage in Godric’s Hollow. For a safehouse, it really was rather cozy. He pictured the expression of surprise that would cross James’ face when he opened the door. Sirius would leap from the shadows, decked out in his ridiculous muggle Halloween getup, shouting “trick or treat!” Then they would both laugh, James would ask him what he was on about and invite him inside to crack open a bottle of fire whiskey. Lily would chide Sirius for travelling all that way in the middle of the night (“Honestly, Padfoot, it never fails to shock me how reckless and irresponsible you can be!”) but inevitably, after they had each given Harry a kiss on top of his head, she would put him to bed and then join them downstairs for drinks. And then Sirius would return home to Remus.
Not a bad Halloween, all things considered, Sirius thought to himself.
A smattering of lights dotting the countryside caught his attention; he had arrived. The bike bounced jarringly a few times along the road as Sirius touched down--he still hadn’t quite perfected landings. It was getting late now; most of the muggle children had finished trick-or-treating and gone inside with their parents.
As he maneuvered the massive bike through the narrow streets of Godric’s Hollow--still slick from a recent rainfall--a few teenagers pointed with admiration, hooting and hollering their approval. Sirius grinned back at them and parked his bike around the corner from his destination. After all, he didn’t want the sound of the engine to alert James to his approach, or it would be downright impossible to get him with a good fright. When he was sure the teenagers had gone, Sirius cast a quick concealment charm on the bike, setting off toward the Potters' cottage.
He was about to put his Halloween mask back on, when a blinding flash of green light lit up the sky behind the row of cottages nearest him. After only a moment’s delay, a deep, loud boom shook the very earth between his feet. Sirius froze, and there were a few long moments of awful, heavy silence.
More than anything else, it was that silence that would be seared into Sirius’ mind for years to come.
Then came the screams.