"Oi, stop that!" Al exclaimed at the beginning of the shrunk clothing avalanche, but it was too late.
At least most of Al's new robes matched their new resting place. Majority of his wardrobe was firmly monochrome, if you didn't count ties (he didn't bother shrinking those) and an occasional pair of old bronze-and-blue socks knitted by Grandma, gifted, promptly hidden away, and only recovered out of necessity from Al's old bedroom at Godric's Hollow after the rest of Al's clothes burned with his books.
Al squared his shoulders. "Your tomes make a very convenient wardrobe. They keep my work robes pressed. And for your information," he informed Severus, "they were sorted in alphabetical as well as contextual order until your chaotic summoning charms messed them up."