"I've been planning Halloween for months," announced James one evening in the dormitory, because of course he had. "I say we cause a scene, just like we did last year and the year before."

"What sort of scene?" asked Peter.

"Well, in first year, we decorated Dumbledore's office. Second year, we did Pensley's. I have a brilliant idea for this year, lads. Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Sirius.

"Maybe," said Peter.

"No," said Remus.

James grinned and threw his arms out, like he was prone to do when he got excited. "This year," he said, "we shall decorate the office of Minerva McGonagall!"

"I love it," said Sirius.

"I like it!" said Peter.

"I suppose that's fine," said Remus.

James made a triumphant sort of noise and climbed on top of his trunk to deliver his next bit of news. "And I have the perfect idea for Halloween," he said. "We are going to dress up as the Four Founders of Hogwarts!"

Remus finally looked up from Advanced Arithmancy and made a face. "Why?"

"Because there are four of us and four founders. Duh. I'll be Gryffindor, of course, and..."

"No, I want to be Gryffindor!" said Sirius.

"No, you can be Slytherin, since your whole family's in it."

"No! I want to be Gryffindor!"

"I'll be Gryffindor," offered Peter.

"No! I'm Gryffindor, Sirius is Slytherin, Peter is Hufflepuff, and Remus is Ravenclaw."

Remus frowned. "How come I have to be Ravenclaw?"

"Because you're holding a book, mate."

"Gryffindors read. Besides, Ravenclaw was a girl. I'm not a girl."

"There's a spell to make your hair grow really quickly, and then we'll just change the color."

"I'm not being a girl!"

"Never mind being a girl!" cried Sirius. "I'm not being Slytherin! I want to be Gryffindor! You can be Slytherin, Prongs. You're certainly ambitious enough when it comes to Quidditch—"

"But I don't want to be Slytherin! I want Sirius to be Slytherin, and Remus to be Ravenclaw, and Peter to be Hufflepuff."

"But I want to be Gryffindor, too," said Peter stubbornly.

"Why don't we just all be Gryffindor?" Remus suggested.

"No," said James, "because we have to be four founders and four Houses. It's perfect!"

"No, it's not, because I refuse to dress up as Slytherin," said Sirius.

"And I refuse to dress up as Ravenclaw," said Remus.

James groaned. "Well, you're going to do it anyway, because I said so."

Remus shook his head and returned to his book, and Sirius fumed for the rest of the day.

It was six in the morning, and Remus was very comfortable.

He was curled up in the absolute perfect position—his knees were drawn up, one hand was beneath his pillow, and the other was curled to his body for maximum comfort and clutching the pink blanket. The pillow was perfectly cool. The window wasn't bothering him at all—it was tightly latched, and the drapes were drawn. The blankets went up to Remus' chin, and he was just the right temperature: cool enough to want to stay under the covers, but not cold enough to shiver. The lights were on (James, Sirius, and Peter were probably already awake), but Remus was used to sleeping with light. It was perfect, and Remus was very much looking forward to his next couple hours of precious, perfect sleep.

He yawned and snuggled nearer to the pink blanket. It was scratchy, but Remus liked scratchy blankets. He was just drifting off to sleep again when he noticed that someone was standing over him.

Remus opened one eye, squinted into the brightness, and caught sight of Sirius.

He was wearing a large, bushy, brown beard and bright red robes. He seemed to have a cardboard sword by his side. "Thought you were dressing as Slytherin," Remus mumbled. "Please don't wake me up, Padfoot, I was having such a good dream..."

"Wake up," insisted Sirius.

Remus tried to close his eyes again, but it was too late. His perfect sleep was ruined, and now he was up.

Remus sat up and wrapped the pink blanket around his shoulders. "I'm up," he said, "and you are the biggest git ever. Full moon's coming up, you know, and I need my sleep."

"No, it's not. Full moon's not till November tenth. You can't fool me."

Remus groaned. "Worth a try. Now tell me why you're dressed as Godric Gryffindor. Did James really change his mind?"

"Nope. He's dressed as Godric, too—but he wasn't about to convince me to dress as Slytherin. Did you really think I would do it?"

"S'pose not," Remus said. "I wasn't planning on dressing as Rowena, either. Was just going to borrow a Ravenclaw's tie or something. I think Basil knows some people who would lend me one—Basil knows everyone."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I'm not dressing as a Slytherin. That would be terrible. So I waited till Prongs left for early morning Quidditch practice, and then I nicked the sword and robes that he got his mum to buy for him. I Duplicated them twice—once for me, once for you, and James still has his own. We can all be Gryffindor."

"What about Peter?" Remus asked.

"He's still sleeping. He stayed up last night for that epic pillow fight that we had—well, me and James, because you were sleeping—and now he won't budge. Forget him."

"I'd like to forget this whole thing," said Remus, still a bit sleepy.

"Absolutely not. Get up and change, Moony, or else I'll hit you over the head with something very heavy."

"Fine." Remus pulled his pajama shirt over his head. He changed out in the open instead of in the lavatory now, but it was still a bit awkward to do so directly in front of Sirius, who was staring at him. "You can stop looking," said Remus.

"Probably should." Sirius made a face. "No offense, Remus, but I don't like blood, and those scars are extremely disturbing."

Remus shrugged as he pulled the red robes over his chest. "I know. Sorry. I can change somewhere else if you want."

"No, not disturbing for me. Well, for me, a little. But... I can't imagine how much that must've hurt. I've never so much as scraped my knee, did you know?"

"Oh." This was surprising. Sirius Black showing empathy? Remus wasn't sure how to feel about that. "It's not so bad. I'm used to it."

Sirius pulled Remus' sleeve back and pointed to a gash on his arm that Remus had received on the first full moon after Professor Questus' death. It had healed by now (the silver and Dittany always worked wonders), but the scar still stood out prominently against the rest of his forearm—one long line that had cut right down to the bone and had nearly bled Remus half to death, it felt like. "What does it feel like?" Sirius asked. "To be all cut up like that?"

Remus shrugged. "It… hurts."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I don't know how to describe it. It's also quite messy. Little annoying, to be frank."

Sirius nodded. "Hm. Well, James said that I should get used to blood."

"Why would you need to do that? Planning on becoming a werewolf?"

"Of course not. But…" Sirius hesitated. "If we ever need to… you know, help you."

Remus stopped breathing. "You mean, like... after Hogwarts, when I don't have Madam Pomfrey anymore?"

Sirius hesitated again, and then nodded vehemently. "Er, yeah. Sure. That's exactly what I mean."

"That's really… that's really sweet of you." Fiddlesticks, Remus felt like he was going to cry now. He was thirteen. Teenage boys didn't cry so easily. He put the pink blanket over his head so that Sirius couldn't see his face. "I don't need your help," he said.

"Sure," said Sirius, now evidently very uncomfortable. That was okay. Remus was, too. "Just stop being all sentimental and get dressed already."

"Fine," said Remus. He kept the blanket over his head. That was the wonderful thing about being a werewolf (probably the only good thing): he didn't need to see to navigate around the dormitory. He could do so by scent. He grabbed the clothes from Sirius' hands and then immediately walked into a wall.

Never mind. Remus Lupin could not sense walls.

Still, Remus kept it on for a while, because the lump in his throat threatened to become something more with frightening speed. He didn't know why the thought of his friends sticking with him forever and helping him after full moons made him so emotional. He didn't really want their help after full moons. He didn't want them to see him like that.

No, it was more of the fact that they were willing to do so. James was willing to miss early morning Quidditch practice or whatever to care for an injured werewolf. Sirius was willing to overcome his fear of blood. Peter was… well, he was usually willing to help, but he'd be there, too. And they were all willing to stick with him forever—they already had plans for after Hogwarts—the end was in sight, and Remus would have his friends forever and ever and there was nothing to worry about, forever and ever, amen.

As soon as the lump was gone, Remus stepped out of the bathroom. "How do I look?" he said, doing a slow spin. The cardboard sword, which was taped to his side, scratched against the wall. Remus winced.

"Just like me," said Sirius. "Here, I'll give you a beard."

He waved his wand. Suddenly, Remus' face felt very scratchy, and he pressed his lips together. "No beard," he said.

"What?"

"No beard. Get it off. I don't like it."

"Why not?"

"I look like an idiot."

"Well, yeah. That's the point."

Remus closed his eyes tightly and tried to get rid of the images of wolf-Remus with regular-Remus eyes. "Get. It. Off," he said, teeth clenched. "I don't like the feeling of hair on my face, all right?"

Remus peeked at Sirius, who was rolling his eyes. "Oh, okay, so it's a werewolf thing again. Can't you just deal? It's only a day."

"Deal?" Remus managed through the vague panic. He tried to breathe.

"Yeah. I'm not trying to be rude or anything. It's a genuine question. Can you deal with it?"

Remus tried to laugh. "Sirius, if you don't get this beard off of me right now, then I swear I shall hex you, and I'm a fair sight better at duelling than you are."

Sirius rolled his eyes again. "Fine," he said, waving his wand, and then the beard disappeared. Remus could breathe again.

"Thank you," he said.

"Not as if I had a choice," said Sirius. "It'd be so much better with the beard, though. Come on, let's go find James. He'll be livid."

James was indeed livid, and Remus couldn't help cowering behind Sirius a little. "What?!" he said. "I thought that you were dressing up as Salazar and Rowena!"

"Didn't want to," said Sirius, shrugging. "We told you that."

"But… but I'm Godric!"

"We can all be Godric," said Sirius.

"But that's not as good!"

"Think of it this way," said Remus (trying and failing to be helpful), "we're the Four Founders if the Four Founders were better. Since we're all Gryffindor."

"No!" said James. "There are four of us and four founders. We can't all be Gryffindor!"

"Planning on undressing Remus and me right here and now?" said Sirius coolly. "I wouldn't mind, but something tells me that Remus wouldn't like that very much." Sirius cast a pointed look at James, and James sighed.

"But…"

Sirius wasn't done, even though James' Quidditch practice partners were all staring. "You can't just throw a tantrum and get whatever you want anymore, Prongs. This isn't your mummy and daddy's house."

James sighed again. "But…"

"Wake up and hear the Fwoopers, Prongs. We all hated your idea and we told you so. You can't still expect us to do it."

"But..."

"If you want to have friends, then you have to care about what they want."

James ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Fine. I suppose… you're right. Yeah. Er… we can just all go as Godric. That's fine."

"Good," said Sirius, and then he took hold of Remus' forearm and stalked off, dragging Remus behind him.

"I'm good at arguing," Sirius whispered as soon as they were out of earshot. "I do it with my parents all the time. Ethos, pathos, logos. You gotta use them all. Now come on, let's go to breakfast. Wormtail isn't going to be woken up anytime soon."

Four people came up to Sirius and Remus over breakfast and asked what they were dressed as. "The best founder of Hogwarts," said Sirius through a mouthful of sausage (and his fluffy beard was not helping matters).

"But aren't there four?" asked a girl.

"Yeah, but there's only one good one," was Sirius' reply.

Remus found that breakfast with Sirius was a little bit awkward. He liked Sirius very much, but he sometimes felt like they were only friends because they were both friends with James. Remus didn't feel very close to Sirius like he did James and Peter—it almost seemed like Sirius was constantly annoyed with him (though Remus knew that "annoyed" was just Sirius' state of being, unless he was with James). Remus didn't really know what to talk about with Sirius when it was just the two of them.

Remus sat in awkward silence (and watched Sirius struggle to eat through his beard) for about twenty minutes before Peter walked in. He hadn't gotten the memo, obviously, and he was dressed in a boxy frock with a frilly apron, yellow shoes, and had curly blonde hair.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed upon seeing Remus and Sirius. "You're both dressed as Godric? Why didn't anyone tell me? I dressed as Helga Hufflepuff!"

"Nice frock," said Sirius. He was laughing so violently that his face was turning red.

Peter pouted and sat next to Remus. "Any chance you have another Godric costume? You both look so cool."

"None," said Sirius quickly. "It's too late. We're gonna be three Godrics and a Helga. Oh, this is so great."

James didn't seem to think so when he finally did arrive to breakfast ("We should at least be uniform!") but he didn't complain much after having been chewed out by Sirius earlier.

Later that day, Remus discovered just how popular his friends really were when the rumor that the Marauders were fighting spread like wildfire throughout the school. Everywhere that Remus went, he heard whispers of the argument.

"Did you hear that James and Sirius are fighting?" whispered a Slytherin boy.

"I think that Lupin and Pettigrew are involved, too," gossiped a Gryffindor girl.

"What do you think it's about?"

"Dunno, but they both seemed really angry."

"Maybe they'll stop being friends."

James heard the whispers, too, and he... was thrilled, in typical James fashion. "This is the perfect Halloween prank while we're waiting for a good time to decorate McGonagall's office!" he said. "We'll just pretend that were fighting!"

Remus, who already felt left out, wasn't sure he liked that idea of pretending to fight. But…

"Sure," he said.

And so the Grand Halloween Prank began. James decided that it would be more realistic if they split into "sides"—so he and Peter were Side One, and Sirius and Remus were Side Two. "We have to scowl," James whispered to Remus. Before Remus' very eyes and without much warning, James lurched back, narrowed his eyebrows, and twisted his face into a violent expression. Remus made a small noise of shock and stumbled back.

"No, scowl," said James. "Don't squeak. You're a werewolf, aren't you? You of all people should be able to scowl! Snarl. Whatever."

"Shhh!" said Remus desperately. "Don't… don't talk about that in public!"

James rolled his eyes. "You're so lame, mate. I like you loads, but you're lame. Come on, Wormtail, we've got to walk on the other side of the corridor. We hate them, remember?"

The four of them walked to Transfiguration class: Sirius and Remus on one side, Peter and James on the other. They scowled at each other and made angry faces—well, Remus tried to, but Sirius kept telling him that he only looked ill. They sat on opposite sides of the classroom, and Sirius and James kept calling each other names.

"Idiot!" called James.

"Git!" yelled Sirius.

"Evil!" shouted James.

"Stupid!" said Sirius.

"Enough!" said McGonagall. "I don't know what you boys are arguing about, but I ask that you keep it out of my classroom. Now, if you would, please focus on transfiguring this Muggle clock into a salad."

No matter how hard he tried, though, Remus could only manage a single lettuce leaf. Sirius had his salad down in a couple of minutes, and James had finished his in a couple of seconds. They were now glaring at each other. Remus longed to walk across the room and help Peter (who was looking more frustrated by the second), but he knew that it would spoil the act. He couldn't really help him much—Remus was rubbish at Transfiguration—but sometimes the solidarity of struggling together was a major confidence-booster.

McGonagall was eyeing Remus the whole time. After the period ended, she kept the four of them after class.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We're fighting," announced James.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because James and Peter are gits," said Sirius.

"Because Sirius and Remus are annoying," said James.

"Because Remus and Sirius are the worst," said Peter.

"Because we want to," said Remus.

McGonagall stared at them for a few seconds, and then shook her head. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Nothing can be done," said James.

"Not a thing," added Sirius.

"Nothing whatsoever," said Peter.

"Our friendship is probably over forever," said Remus, and Sirius high-fived him.

"Very… well." McGonagall looked extremely confused. "You four may go. I don't think I can give you any detentions or take House Points for this. Just… try not to hurt each other."

"Hey," said James, eyes wide, "that's a good idea. We can hurt each other!"

Remus rolled his eyes and followed his friends out of the classroom.

"THE MARAUDERS," said James loudly, standing on top of a floating broomstick in the middle of the grounds after school, "ARE FIGHTING. THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS. YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST. WE ARE ARGUING. WE HATE EACH OTHER."

"INDEED," affirmed Sirius. He was sitting on a tree branch. "I HATE JAMES AND PETER WITH ALL MY HEART."

"HE DOESN'T HAVE A HEART," said James. "AND HE AND REMUS ARE AWFUL."

"WHATEVER SHALL WE DO ABOUT THIS PROBLEM?" shouted Sirius.

"I KNOW!" said James. "SIRIUS BLACK: I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL. THIS EVENING. DURING DUELLING CLUB."

"JOLLY GOOD IDEA, MATE… I MEAN, ENEMY," said Sirius. "REMUS IS MY SECOND. I'LL SEE YOU THERE."

"NOT IF I SEE YOU FIRST," said James.

Remus, who was sitting underneath the tree and reading a book, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was getting a bit of a headache.

Word spread quickly, just as James had intended. The whole school, it seemed, showed up to that evening's Duelling Club session, and Dilley and Flitwick were overjoyed.

They became significantly less overjoyed when they discovered that someone had coated all the tables and floors in the Great Hall with Everlasting Glue—the exact same kind, in fact, that James had bought Zonko's the previous Saturday. It was a hilarious coincidence.

"Oh, dear!" said Flitwick, wringing his hands. "It seems that someone has put Everlasting Glue all over the Great Hall!"

"Can't you just magic it away?" asked a Hufflepuff boy.

"No! It's Everlasting Glue. It has built-in Permanent Sticking Charms. Very dangerous stuff. Dumbledore can undo it, but I've no idea how he does it. We'll have to cancel Duelling Club today… and on the day with the highest turnout, too! Such a pity."

"We could duel somewhere else," suggested James loudly.

"We tried the Charms classroom last time, remember? It was too small."

"What about the courtyard? Right under the Transfiguration classroom window? That has loads of open space."

Flitwick seemed to be thinking very hard. "Do you know what, Potter? That just might work. Follow me, everyone."

The crowd of students marched out to the courtyard. James and Sirius were still glaring at one another, and Remus could hear speculations about the argument being whispered all across the crowd. As soon as they arrived in the courtyard, James put his hand into the air.

"Something to say, Potter?" asked Dilley. Max, who was by his side, barked.

"Yeah. I want to duel Sirius. Right now. The first pair of the day. We're arguing, and we hate each other now."

"Sirius got to duel not too long ago with Lupin."

"Yes, I know. But this'll be the duel of the century. Just you wait."

Dilley and Flitwick looked at each other: they seemed very reluctant to let James and Sirius have an audience, even when they were arguing (especially when they were arguing). Awful things happened when James Potter and Sirius Black had an audience.

"Very well," said Flitwick at long last. "I suppose I do owe you for finding a new place for the Duelling Club to meet."

"YES!" shouted James. He and Sirius ran to an open space directly under to the Transfiguration classroom window, and the students watched, enraptured, as they bowed….

And then James pointed his wand to the Transfiguration window above, while Sirius simultaneously pointed his wand into the air. There was a blast of light from James' wand, and then the window was wide open, and Sirius and James shouted together, "ACCIO HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS!"

A large box came zooming through the air: at Sirius' direction, it flew into the open window. There was a loud snapping noise and a flash of blue light, and then McGonagall's classroom was absolutely spilling with bats, spiders, and streamers. Confetti flew from the window and onto the heads of the cheering students.

Flitwick dismissed the Duelling Club directly after that, and Sirius and James got three detentions each—but the students didn't stop talking about it for weeks, and James ended up mussing his hair so much that it looked like an ink-black cloud. "Happy Halloween, Marauders," he said, a loveably feral grin on his face.

"How did you do all that?" asked Remus that evening in the dormitory.

"Self-decorating party box that we got from Zonko's," said Sirius.

"I thought that we were going to decorate McGonagall's office—not her classroom."

James nodded. "Yeah, but this is more fun. More people see it this way. McGonagall is livid, by the way. It's hilarious."

"That whole arguing idea worked out really well," said Peter.

"Sure did. Me and Sirius are the best at improvising."

"I'm a pretty good liar, too," said Remus.

"Can't be that good. It only took us two years to find out your secret." At Remus' expression, James reached over and tousled his hair. "Ah, don't be like that. I'm joking. You're a great liar, but you have to admit that you're really bad at pretending to be angry with people."

Remus smiled. "Perhaps. Is the fight over now?"

"Yep! The fight is over, and the Marauders are all made up."

Thus Halloween ended, and it had been a lot more fun than Remus had expected (even though their group costume was an utter bust, Sirius was being impatient with him, James was being a git, and he'd hardly talked to Peter at all).

But even though it had been enjoyable, Remus was glad to stop the prank. Remus Lupin did not like fighting with the best friends that he'd ever had—even if it was totally and completely fake.

AN: Anything is better when it's reversible: hats, blankets, shirts, vehicles, and especially mistakes.