Part Four: What Tonks Is Made Of
It's a myth that werewolf senses are keen even when in human form. Remus' are sharp – but only because he is naturally observant and has trained himself to be more so.
He detects a sugary aroma as Tonks stands close to him to brush dust and carpet lint from his robes. It has to be her scent; it's not his, and twelve Grimmauld smells musty and mouldy. Of course, this smells like fresh biscuits, so Molly might be baking. But if the smell were Tonks, Remus would hardly be surprised. She's a sweet girl, from what he knows of her thus far.
"There." Tonks's hands drop away from him. "All tidy – till my next disaster."
"Planning to knock me down again?"
"Well, it seems a bit sad a nice bloke like you hasn't had a tumble in a while."
Remus' neck and ears prickle hot, but he reckons he deserves a bit of payback for embarrassing her with almost the same comment.
Tonks slips past him, robes brushing his, to descend the basement stair, and he catches another scent but cannot identify it.
"Actually," she says over her shoulder, "I'm planning to offer you tea or Butterbeer or something to drink, and there's a great possibility I'll trip and spill it all over you."
Following, Remus lightly touches the back of her head and turns it. "Look where you're walking. I won't be able to catch you if you trip and roll down the stairs."
"So little faith in me already?"
"I'd say that demonstrates great faith."
He half-expects her to turn again and poke out her tongue, but instead she alights at the foot of the stair and looks at him with a faint toss of her vivid pink hair. "When I douse you with Butterbeer, you'll be performing your own scourgify or evanesco or whatever spell you prefer."
"Why? Because I insulted you?"
"Because I'm rubbish with householdy spells." Quirking a brow, Tonks leans closer to him. "Unless you'd like to end up starkers at the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Why don't you take a seat, and I'll get you a Butterbeer."
A moment later, he takes the chair Tonks has saved beside her at the great kitchen table. He catches the sugary scent and recognises the other one.
"This sounds strange," he says, taking a drink of Butterbeer, "but have you been baking?"
"Baking?"
"I smell sugar and spice whenever you're near."
Again that raised eyebrow. "Are you using a line on me?"
"A line?"
"Sugar and spice and everything nice – that's what girls are made of?" But then Tonks sniffs her robes. "Blimey, I do smell like sugar and spice – like…gingerbread. Oh!" She reaches into her pocket and draws out something wrapped in a paper serviette. "I forgot I brought these. Gingerbread man, Remus?"
He accepts a gingerbread man from her, and he cannot help but think that sugar and spice and everything nice are exactly what Nymphadora Tonks is made of.
