So, I had this idea. And then I wrote it...

During these dark times, most people stayed inside, trying to avoid being noticed by the Death Eaters. Children would be kept inside and their parents would insist on their being as quiet as possible. Radios were only put on quietly, and even then, only for the news. The air of terror meant that most people in the wizarding world barely spoke to each other, barely smiled.

And that was where Fred and George's job came in.

Of course, it was dangerous for people to go to their shop, now that the Death Eaters roamed freely. So they made the decision to do as Harry said and keep the laughter alive – by trading their wares at people's doors. A lot of people wouldn't open the door to them. However, those who did found the twins with their red hair and freckles, grinning at them confidently, their blue eyes twinkling, a large trunk by their side.

On this particular day, a nervous little boy opened the door to one of the twin's regular customers. At first he looked up at them in confusion. Then he grinned and opened the door for them. The twins stepped in, greeting the boy and his family, all the while smiling.

Once they had gotten into the living room, they began to open up the trunk by tapping their wands against it in various places. Things popped out as they opened: frogs hopped from one compartment; butterflies making inappropriate noises flew out of another, flying around the room; tempting sweets rolled out of one, sticking fast to the floor; a mouse which when it hiccupped, transformed into a small "dragon", crawled sleepily out of another one.

Soon, the children of the house were giggling, the parents were trying to look on disapprovingly while chuckling themselves and George was grinning. He turned to his brother. "Isn't this grea-?" He broke off as he discovered that Fred was missing. Confused, he looked around. Finally, he excused himself and looked outside the room. He wasn't there either.

"Excuse me," said George, re-entering the living room. "Did you see where my brother went?"

The little boy looked up, confused. "Who? You're the only one who came in here?"

George's eyes widened. What's this? What's going on? "If-If you'll excuse me for a moment…" He turned from the room and wandered along the hall to the front door. Perhaps Fred was just playing a prank on him. Though he couldn't imagine why. And he now had a vague sense of foreboding…

Opening the door, he looked out to see… No-one was around. The landscape seemed bleaker, everything seemed grey. And, directly in front of him, was a large box of some kind. It seemed to be made of stone. From this distance, George could tell that the top was open to the air.

Cautiously, his wand out, he edged forward. When no-one leaped out and no-one tried to kill him, he chanced a look inside.

Fred was laying, still, his hands clasped. Some flowers were laid over him and he was holding his wand, delicately, carefully. George stared at him, wide-eyed, until, finally, he realised that his brother wasn't breathing.

"F… red…?" he whispered. "Fred…" His voice got a little louder. "Fred!" he shouted, panicking. "Get up! Fred! Stop it! This isn't funny!" He reached forward and shook his brother's shoulder. Fred's hands slipped, his wand sliding down his side and to the bottom of the coffin. "FRED!"

George sat up, panting, sweat pouring from him, his feet entangled in the covers he had kicked off in the middle of the night. Glancing round, he registered that he was in their room, Fred's bed close by. He grabbed his wand and said, "Lumos!" The wand-tip glowed brightly, showing him his brother's occupied bed. He stared at him for a moment, his messy red hair showing over the top of the blanket. There was movement and George sighed in relief knowing that Fred was breathing. Fred was alive.

"Nox," George whispered, extinguishing the light. He placed his wand back on his bedside cabinet and lay back down. He righted his covers and went back to sleep, now dreamless.

Fred meanwhile, rolled back over, gazing in George's direction. He had woken a few minutes before George from his own nightmare. He and George had been wandering around the country with their trunk of tricks when, suddenly, George had run off without warning. Fred had given a yell and rushed after him, floating the trunk with him. But, no matter how fast he ran, George always got further and further away.

Eventually, Fred slept peacefully and, by morning, neither mentioned to the other their dream. But a sense of deep foreboding poisoned their days, until…

I know. I'm sorry. It was just this idea that came to me. I think I was reading other fanfics so let's just blame them, shall we...?