Death-Day Suits
George walked through the Burrow and into his and Fred-his room, closed the door, and froze. For there was his half of the room, not even close to neat but still better than Fred's. Mum always said how it looked like a storm had ravaged their room, and sometimes she had been right.
A sob escaped George, and he slid down the door, sobbing as he remembered. Remembered so many pranks and inventions that had been thought up and tested in this room.
He was now the only one who knew the reason behind the numerous scorch marks and stains scattered throughout the room. The trail of shoe marks on the wall and ceiling from the Suction Shoes before Fred figured out how to keep them from leaving marks. The charred hole in the wallpaper from a defective firework. George himself had solved that one.
George knew he was staining his best suit with his tears and that Fred would have a fit. George remembered well the day they bought their matching suits.
The twins perused the suit racks, looking for two very specific suits. Fred wanted one in his favorite orange, while George's suit had to be a deep purple. The trick was finding two identical suits in those colors, not an easy task. Using magic to change the color had crossed their minds, but it didn't have the same shine to it. It was close to an hour before they had finally chosen the perfect suits. They purchased them, then Apparated to their flat above the shop. They tried the suits on, making sure they fit each other perfectly.
"Well, Gred, I'd say we've done well." Fred smiled proudly.
"Forge, I would have to agree. Mum will be thrilled that we finally bought something respectful, although if she knew the real reason we bought them-" George's grin faded.
"She'd have a cow. You know as well as I that we had to though. A war is starting, and with it every possibility that we'll die. We need suits in case that happens."
"Well, we do have an image to uphold. Can't be seen at our funeral in something someone else picked out."
"Our finest purchase yet Georgie. Our Death Day suits."
They had been joking, mostly, at the time, never thinking that they would actually die. George had made sure they put Fred in his Death Day suit, and tears leaked out when George put his on. For as he stood at his twin's grave, half of him died too.
George pulled himself off the floor, crawled into Fred's bed, and cried for time unknown. Eventually his exhaustion and Fred's scent lured him into a deep sleep. As he drifted off, George could've sworn he heard Fred say,
"Whadaya know Georgie? We both got to wear our Death-Day suits after all."