Mrs. McKinnon owned the flathouse on Old Compton Street. Her sister-in-law had told her about a boy from Hogwarts who needed a place to stay. He’d had enough gold for the room and board and she welcomed him warmly upon his arrival. Sirius had nodded politely at her attempts at conversation, occasionally contributing a witty remark or giving her an enigmatic smile. She liked him immediately.
It wasn’t that she was a busybody. Far from it. She didn’t intentionally spy on her tenants. Her job entailed, however, a certain level of knowledge about the lives of the people living under her roof. For instance, Marlene had told her what she knew from Dumbledore- the boy was a runaway and was looking to study to become an Auror upon his graduation the upcoming June. No problem there, none whatsoever, and he was so very charming. She expected girls to be coming in and out of his apartment regularly.
Actually, as it turned out, the only regular guests were three boys, probably his age, quite young, at any rate, and just as polite and charming. They did tend to make a lot of noise, and the boarding house did have rather thin walls, but usually Mrs. McKinnon would just take to her quarters and watch the telly for awhile until they settled down.
Never did she have a reason to suspect any kind of funny business. Her sister-in-law was the only witch in her family, and Mrs. McKinnon herself was certainly not magical, but she had no problem with their world and indeed, found it quite interesting. And so it was that she knew about Hogwarts and Aurors, listening with rapt attention at family gatherings to Marlene’s accounts of her exploits; they never ceased to fascinate her. Of course, she was quiet about the whole business, but occasionally she’d invite Sirius to tea, and when he accepted, she was sure to ask enough questions to satisfy her curiosity about his life.
The only anomaly involving her new roomer was the rather unsettling regularity with which one of his fellows would stay the night. The other two never did; she suspected, anyways, by the looks of the third, that he was quite poor and probably didn’t have a place of his own to sleep. For this reason, it barely surprised her when Sirius came to her, asking for a second key, upon his graduation from that wizard school.
“Come in, please, Sirius, don’t be silly,” she beckoned him in, but he hesitated. “What is it?” He stepped aside, and she saw the shabby young man who lingered not infrequently shifting anxiously behind him.
“Er, Mrs. McKinnon, I’ve-This is my friend Remus Lupin, by the way, I don’t think you’ve met.” She smiled pleasantly at the disheveled yet attractive wizard. He nodded at her, his mouth quirking up slightly in the corners. “Remus would- I mean, I’ve invited-“He sighed, exasperated by his apparent lack of words. The other man cut in serenely.
“I’m moving in with Sirius, Mrs. McKinnon. That’s all right, I trust?”
“Of course, I was wondering if you would.”
Sirius looked incredulous, but his tone was kind. “You what?”
“Well, he stays the night so often I was starting to suspect something was happening.” Mrs. McKinnon laughed benignly. She wondered briefly at their expressions of mingled fear and embarrassment. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, dears, I’ve nothing against friendship. I’m glad he’s staying with you, Sirius, look at the poor thing, looks as though he could use a nice place to sleep.”
The look of surprise he’d worn for the past several minutes disappeared as Mr. Lupin told her he could indeed and was grateful for her generosity. This stirred her into remembering the key, which she immediately went to retrieve.
“They are such lovely young people,” she thought amicably to herself moments later, I must make them biscuits sometime, they look as though proper food is missing from their lives.”
And indeed, she had done just that. After giving Sirius’s friend the key and seeing them off, in rather good spirits, she reckoned, to their flat, several days passed in which ordinary duties precluded her time for anything else. The chores of the flatkeeper were plentiful and never-ending, and it seemed she’d somehow let them pile up.
Over the course of the following months, however, she did notice a change in the demeanor of her original youthful tenant. His smile seemed brighter these days and he’d lost the brooding quality she’d attributed to the motorbike he kept in the back shed. Several times a week she would hear odd noises permeating the wall that separated her own living space from theirs, as they rented the flat parallel, but they weren’t terribly bothersome and she couldn’t be bothered to wonder where they could come from. She simply attributed the queer thumps and creaks to a cat, perhaps; and indeed she had seen a dog several times on her few visits before the other lad had moved in. He would occasionally roam the halls before; it seemed his prowls were less frequent, now, but surely he was making all the noise coming from the apartment that was otherwise perfectly quiet.
It was a Sunday afternoon nearly a year after they’d come asking for the key, and she’d finally made the cookies to bring over. Not that she needed an excuse, but she did rather fancy checking up on her boarders from time to time, and to do this with cookies was at once polite and diverting. She rapped on the door reading 1B round three.
Sirius had come to the door, and she flushed slightly at his appearance. Surely he hadn’t just woken up? “Did you go to church this morning, dear?” She asked politely, then regretted her question upon seeing his face react. Maybe she’d presumed wrong, maybe wizards had different religions, but Marlene had never mentioned anything...?
“Oh, you know I- I don’t really fancy church all that much, to be honest.” He said cordially, brushing his short black hair out of his eyes with a gesture that was reminiscent of the dog she’d seen. Like owner, like master, she thought warmly, inviting herself in.
“I’ve made you both biscuits, you’ve looked dreadfully hungry-“She stopped halfway across the rather cramped living area. Although she’d ignored Sirius’ weak attempts at keeping her out of the flat, she hadn’t quite understood why. Now, the reason stared her right in the face. The place was a mess! Swallowing, and speaking more to delay the point of talking about the state of the apartment than anything else, she asked “But where is Mr. Lupin?”
The youth looked flustered. “Oh, he’s-Remus is in-he’s at work.”
“Oh?” She said, feigning interest. “Where does he work?”
Her companion was saved the duty of responding when a voice called in from the bedroom. It had escaped her that this flat had only one formal bedroom. Did Mr. Lupin sleep on the couch?
“Sirius?” The mild voice called, concerned. “Who is it?” A moment later, before Sirius had a moment to answer, the thin frame of Mr. Lupin came into view, wearing more than his roommate at the moment. While Sirius looked to have tumbled languidly from his bed, Mr. Lupin wore nice corduroy trousers and was in the process of buttoning a faded but elegant shirt. She couldn’t help but notice his tousled hair; how different he looked from her initial meeting with him. “Ah.” He smiled at her. “Mrs. McKinnon! Thank you for the biscuits.” He eyed them hungrily, trying to keep his voice in check. She recognized the look of a starving graduate when she saw one.
“Please,” she gestured, “Eat.”
Sitting, knitting in her parlor later in the evening, she wondered, for the first time, what exactly the nature of the boy’s apparent friendship actually was. Certainly today, they had seemed much more like a, well, a couple-more than anything else. She chuckled to herself. “Being silly,” she murmured, continuing to knit. “Those boys are anything but!”