Hermione nodded, her lips pressed together, her eyes dancing with mirth. She started to open her mouth to speak then clamped it shut tightly again.

"Oh, just bloody get it over with." Hermione shook her head, squeaking quietly. He glared at her and jabbed her quickly in the stomach. She opened her mouth to protest and laughed instead, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, still giggling. "It's just…you're…"

"Purple."

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "And it's just…not your color." She burst into another round of laughter, her eyes glittering with tears. "And the look…on your face…when it…when it happened."

"I was wrong. Stop now."

She choked slightly, attempting not to laugh. "And you have…wings!" She lost control again and covered her mouth with her hand, smothering the giggles though they escaped between her fingers.

"I told you not to bloody say anything."

"I didn't realize it was so suggestible."

"And apparently very attuned to sarcasm," he grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist, turning his back to her and shucking his jeans. Hermione started to say something, the sentence lost in a loud gasp as a long, purple tail snaked out from beneath the towel. "It seemed to think you might have been lying about the angel comment."

"Do you," she bit her lower lip and swallowed a laugh, "have horns as well?"

"You couldn't keep you mouth shut."

"I didn't know…"

"One would think that, as clever as you are, you'd take the 'Hermione, don't say anything' as a bit of a warning." He glanced into the mirror and groaned, ignoring her as she let loose another cascade of laughter. "Do shut up."

"I'm sorry. It's just…"

"'Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley,'" Fred mocked in a fair approximation of her voice. "'Fred's being an angel.'" He growled as he reached for the end of the luxurious feathered white wings that sprung from his back. "You know we've no idea how long this stuff bloody lasts, don't you?"

"I just don't understand why it turned you purple exactly."

He leaned in closer to the mirror and surveyed his face up close, pulling the skin of his cheek down to look at the whites of his eyes. "I'm thinking too much shredded beetroot in the milkweed pus."

"And you actually ingested this thing, did you?"

"It was in the testing phase." He glared at her over his shoulder. "Now I've not only turned purple, sprouting wings and a tail, but I've torn through my favorite shirt."

She held up the shreds. "If you hadn't thrown the jellyfish glitter at me," she shook her head and sent a cascade of sparkles flying, tendrils whipping out around them, "then your mother wouldn't have come down to see what was going on and we wouldn't be in this situation." She set his shirt on the bench that ran along the wall. "Now would we?"

"As I recall, your constant ribbing me about last night's date…"

"She actually qualifies as a date now? I was under the impression she was just the prettiest customer of the day."

"Well…"

"Or was that the easiest?" She smirked as he made a face, laughing as his wings quivered. "You look ridiculous."

"You look like you were attacked by a New Year's celebration."

"Well," she walked over to him and tapped him on the nose. "At least I'm not pur…oh!"

"What?"

She nodded toward the mirror and he turned. "Bloody hell. What'd you do?"

Hermione shook her head. "Just tapped you a bit."

Fred turned back to her. "Do it again. Somewhere else."

"Where?" She tilted her head then reached out and stroked his cheek. The purple faded rapidly, leaving behind his normal pale skin, darkened only by his freckles. "Oh."

"Try somewhere else."

She trailed a fingertip lightly along his collarbone, her hair moving with the gentle sway of wind from his fanning wings. The milky trail of flesh left in her wake made her smile. "It's rather like colouring in reverse."

"More?" He asked softly.

"You're plotting something?" Her voice was an echo of his; softer, gentler as she drew a pattern of lazy circles down his arm.

"Just thinking of possible applications. I wonder if I can duplicate the recipe in different colors." He closed his eyes for a moment; opening them swiftly at the sudden pressure of warm, wet heat. Hermione pulled back and met his gaze as he pressed his fingertips to just below his collarbone where she'd kissed him. "What," he swallowed, "was that?"

"Just wondering if anything would make it disappear." Her fingers moved over his shoulders, down the thick muscles of his arms. "I wonder if it's just me, since I made the suggestion." She tilted her head toward the door of the workroom. "Should I…?"

"No." Fred touched the side of her face, stilling her with the light graze of his fingers. "Don't go." He swallowed again and licked his lips, wings beating softly, slightly faster. "I'd, er, rather no one else…" he broke off as she ran a light finger over his nipple. "What are you doing?"

"Why did you go out with that girl?"

"What girl?"

"The one yesterday. The one that was so rude to me?" She let her finger drift lazily down his chest to his stomach, tracing pale lines around the hard plane of his muscles. "The one that started all this mess?"

"You promise not to hex me?"

She nodded, her lips parted with the weight of her heavy breath. "Yes."

"Because you're beautiful when you're angry." He took a small step toward her, closing the minimal distance between them. His fingers found the glittering curl of her hair and played with the silky strands. "Indignant and flushed and your eyes flash brighter than this glitter and you bite you lip to keep from hexing me and all I want to do…"

"Is shag some other girl?"

Fred shook his head and leaned in, nuzzling his nose against hers, his breath playing over her mouth. "I didn't shag her."

"You went out with her."

"I bought her a drink and sent her home," he traced the outline of her ear, following his fingers with his tongue as he whispered. "She wasn't you."

"Fred?" She pressed her palm to his chest, keeping space between them as her eyes sought out his. She licked her lips nervously, as the steady beat of his wings matched the pounding pulse of his heart beneath her hand. "I…"

"Just," he whispered softly as he closed his eyes, brushing feather-light kisses over her cheek on a slow path to her lips, "let me kiss you."

Hermione nodded as his lips found hers, the soft pressure increasing as she slid her hand up his chest and drew him closer, the purple fading in a wide swath of flesh. Fred groaned, his tongue pressing past her parted lips and into her mouth, stroking the sensitive flesh.

Fred's wings coiled around them, closing them in an embrace as he pulled her closer, the soft cushion of the towel doing little to hide his arousal. Hermione's entire body shuddered as his hands found their way beneath her blouse, stroking the small of her back. Her fingers threaded through the short hair at the nape of his neck, holding him deep in the kiss.

Hermione pulled back moments later, gasping for breath. Her eyes darted down to the towel, hanging precariously low on Fred's hips, seemingly held up by his erection and little else. Purple still covered the majority of his body, save where her bare skin had touched it. "I'm thinking there's definitely a specific market to target this too."

"I'm impressed you're thinking it all," he breathed, fingers fumbling with the too-small buttons of her shirt as he nibbled the length of her neck. "I've ceased all higher brain functions." She moaned as he licked at the hollow behind her ear and he lowered his voice, exhaling the words in a deep, husky murmur. "Like that."

Though it wasn't a question, she nodded, eyes closed and breathing hard as he finished opening her shirt, pushing the fabric away from her own pale flesh. She stilled as he did, her eyes opening questioningly, watching him as he stared at her in a mixture of awe and wonder. She glanced down and then back up, blushing fiercely. "Er, perhaps we know where the purple came from?"

Fred nodded solemnly, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch the swell of her breast, encased in lingerie that matched the large blotches of color on his skin. He traced the nipple reverently over and over again, the wings on his back flapping in slow counterpart, quickening as her blood did, her nipple tightening under his ministrations.

She shivered and he bent his head, replacing his fingers with his tongue, outlining the hard tip through the fabric. As Hermione moaned, he bit the distended flesh lightly, capturing her hips, rubbing the flesh above the hem of her skirt with his thumbs. She tilted her head back as he licked at her flesh, finding her neck once again. He nuzzled and tasted her, feasting on her skin. She writhed in his hands, undulating against him as he let his hands slide up her sides to the catches of her bra, undoing them slowly as he found her lips again.

"You taste of glitter," he murmured against her mouth before pulling back, easing her bra over her shoulders and down her arms. He closed his eyes briefly then stared hungrily at her breasts, both of them mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of them, the nipples that seemed to strain toward him. "I…oh."

Hermione gasped at the same time, her eyes widening as she caught his hands. He held them out, her fingers making white rings around his wrists as she gasped again. "What…?"

"Christ," he panted, shivering in tandem with her. "You feel it too?"

"It's like…oh, God. I don't know what it's…" She shuddered hard and fast, her entire body quaking as she reversed the hold on his arms so that he was supporting her. "You're touching me."

"But I'm not, but I feel…" He groaned as his muscles contracted. "Oh, God. The tail."

"The tail?" Hermione shivered again. "It's…but it's…"

"Under your skirt?"

She nodded as he bit back a low, rumbling groan, bending down to her breasts again. He licked one then the other.

"In your knickers?"

"Mmm, yes," she practically purred. "Touching me. Like it's li…licking me."

"Yes," he nodded, engulfing her breasts in the heat of his mouth. Hermione quivered in his arms as the air from his wings, beating rapidly, roared in her ears. Fred changed breasts, sucking and licking at her nipple as he slide two fingers beneath her knickers, thrusting them inside her as his tail teased her clit. Wet heat surrounded them and he groaned, straightening enough to turn them, backing her against the worktable that dominated the center of the room. "So hot," he murmured against her lips as his fingers thrust inside her. "So hot and so wet."

"Fred," she begged quietly, the sound dissolving as she came around his fingers, her body clenching at him. He released her, silencing her protest with a searing kiss, his tongue thrusting in her mouth in lieu of his fingers as he unfastened her skirt, shucking that and her knickers to the ground then lifting her onto the table in one smooth movement.

Hermione braced herself on the table, her fingers curling around the edges as she stared at him, her body flushed as red as his was purple. Fred swallowed hard and dropped his towel, the thick swell of his cock suffused with color. They both stared as he guided it toward the wet warmth emanating from her, both gasping as he pressed inside her, feathers of white veining through the purple, slowly reverting his body back to its natural hue.

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, his hands gripping her thighs loosely, holding them off the table as he moved forward, sliding completely inside her. He exhaled then resumed the rushed panting of desire as he began moving within her, every thrust slow and tortuous.

Hermione's back arched, rolling her hips upward as his hands tightened on her thighs, pushing and pulling her body away and against him with every stroke. Her eyes stayed glued to his, her tongue darting out again and again to wet her lips as she curled her legs around him, feathers tickling her skin as her heels dug into the backs of his thighs.

"Fu…" He panted harshly, his eyes closing involuntarily as his body tightened, his wings whipping back and forth, her hair plastered to her skin with perspiration, the few wispy tendrils driven to a frenzy by the force of the wind. She released the table and fell back, her body still arched and angled toward him as he leaned over her, pinning her hands to the table as the purple faded from the backs of his hands, the wings shredding and shedding with the speed of their movement as his tail whipped back and forth, stinging his calves and the soles of her feet until suddenly the frenzy of friction stopped, Fred stilled, his body pulsing once before the onslaught of his orgasm slammed through them both, leaving them spent and shattered, surrounded by the fractured feathers of Fred's shattered wings, fading to soft lilac before disappearing all together.

Fred's body jerked once before he lay on top of her, his damp hair sticking to her skin as he rested his head against the arc of her shoulder. "Well then." He cleared his throat. "The wings?"

She ran her hand over his back where they'd been attached only to find smooth skin. "Gone."

He nodded. "The tail as well. Pity. I rather liked it."

"Mmm," she nodded. "Me, too."

He laughed, lowering his head to nuzzle her breast. "Purple appears to have vanished as well."

"I, on the other hand, am still covered in jellyfish glitter."

He looked up, watching her as he licked her nipple, felt her body tremble beneath him. "There's a shower just right over there. Sort of a decontamination chamber, lest one of our bright ideas go wrong."

"I like our method of decontamination much better."

"We could," he began then stopped, a thin blush sliding high on his cheeks, "combine the two." He smiled at her quickly raised eyebrow. "If you're so inclined."

"I do need to get this glitter off." She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"No, love." He laughed low and warm. "I'm asking you to shag me senseless - again - in the shower. We'll worry the first date afterward."