"No trouble!" Gerard informed Spencer cheerfully, checking his hair in the mirror one last time. He was a dashing motherfucker, if he did say so himself. "I, uh, have sort of a thing for costumes, you know? It was cool of you to let me dress you up, I haven't gotten to really play around with this stuff for a while."
He grinned at Spencer, who had an awesome S&M-cabaret-circus vibe going on -- Gerard gave himself a pat on the back for that one. Genius! He was a costuming genius. Mikey had refused to let Gerard turn him into a robot marionette this year, just swayed insolently off after the feast, mumbling something about plumage -- Gerard had to admit, that did sound promising. But he was still glad someone had acquiesed to Gerard's inexorable artistic urges. Otherwise Gerard might have been unable to resist adding a bit of flair to his own outfit, and while it'd have been fun, he'd been wanting to try this FBI look out for a while. Makeup would have detracted from the authenticity, sadly.
"A Special Agent from the Federal Bureau of Investigation!" Gerard clarified, gesturing for Spencer precede him into the hallway. "I met a couple agents liasing on a case a few years back -- Pendergast and Cooper. Fucking brilliant, those two." Bit odd, though, even for Muggles, but fantastic at their jobs and a huge help in pinning down a cross-Atlantic Death Eater group. Plus, they'd been more than willing to explain a few oddities of Muggle culture in exchange for insight into Wizarding society -- Gerard had been putty in their cunning Muggle hands.
They got a few startled looks from the prefects out on patrol -- Gibreel in particular did a good job of masking his shock with a disdainful sniff. Gerard made a tiny moue in his direction and snickered when the kid flushed and scuttled off. Ah, teenagers. It was so nice not being one anymore.
As they got closer to the armory, though, Gerard sobered -- there was a strange wailing sound, rising and falling, and Gerard shot Spencer a worried look and sped up a bit. Schecter's invitation had said there'd be Muggle music at the party, but this sounded more like trouble. Merlin only knew what might have happened now. Armor possessed by banshees? Ghosts of house elves past? An evil opera singer?