are you ten years ago ? kate&mer.

[Meredith Yaxley]

i look at the sun and i look in the mirror
i'm on the right track yeah i'm on to a winner
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As she entered the Leaky Cauldron, Meredith Malfoy pulled the lapels of her trench coat up as to obscure her face. It was not a conscious movement, but instead a reflex drilled in to her in her school years. The Meredith of nine years ago would never have even considered an establishment like the Leaky Cauldron of nine years ago as an acceptable place to eat lunch, and something in the back of her mind knew that. However, since the new management had taken over the restaurant (and the Alley behind it, for that matter), it was not only a fine place to lunch but also a haunt of many of her friends. Her husband had asked her to meet him there for lunch, although as her steel grey eyes scanned the bar, she made note of the fact that he wasn't there. She rolled her eyes as she strolled lazily towards the bar and took a seat there, setting her bag down on the stool next to hers.

It wasn't particularly unlike to Evander to make a commitment to her and then break it, she thought errantly as she examined her fingernails. She made no pretenses about the fact that he was not her ideal life companion, and he made no pretenses about the fact that he'd married her mostly for status. Sometimes she resented him for it, but in the end she always realized there was nothing she could do about it, and even if there was, she'd never do better than Evander Yaxley. Running a hand through her pale blonde hair, she glanced towards the doorway, wondering how long she was supposed to wait before she could go home. She'd been working hard all week in her new job at the Ministry - which she sorely hoped was making her father proud. She wasn't particularly fond of her job, and wasn't particularly good at it, either, although her ties in the ministry were just too good to not take advantage of. Since her uncle had been appointed Minister, the Malfoys had enjoyed being even more notorious than they previously were. Besides the long work hours, there was nothing too terribly wrong with it, anyway. It was a way to make a living, instead of just leeching her father's money.

Still, though, she didn't like being away from home so much. She was an adult of twenty five, but that didn't stop her from being terribly homesick during the work week, when it was much more practical to stay in her flat than spend her nights in the bedroom she'd had since she was two. She didn't like to think of herself as sentimental, either, but she also missed her niece. Meredith worried about Charis frequently, mostly, she rationalized, because Lysie was a somewhat unreliable mother. Still, she couldn't help her maternal urge. She'd been taught since she was a very young child that her life's goal, as a proper pureblooded young woman, should be to marry and have children. Evander felt somewhat differently. Even though they'd been married for four years, which seemed like plenty of time to Meredith, he insisted that they wait before having children. Meredith had never been particularly fond of the idea of being in her thirties, so the prospect of having to wait to have a child until she was that age was unbearable for her.

Letting her hand drop to the counter, Meredith waved the barkeep over and ordered a drink, suddenly incredibly depressed with her life. She didn't think about things that carried such weight very often - everything now was work, and Evander, and Charis and how does my hair look? And what was that charm I learned in fourth year? And can I afford that and also my rent without having to ask my father for money? It was shallow, but exhausting at the same time. Still, in her opinion, it was better than being so terribly self-aware of her misery. As the bartender handed her her drink, she let her muscles relax, regretting ever having come to the dingy little pub in the first place.

[Kate Prewett]

The Leaky Cauldron was quite famous these days – as far as anything could be famous in Diagon Alley – for its authentic old-world appeal and friendly service. For a woman who'd grown up coercing illegal pints from its bar staff though, the atmosphere felt awkwardly false. The dark wood tables weren't chipped and sticky with spilled beer, the bohemian décor matched too well, and no matter how late the time was the bar never smelled of smoke or vomit.

It was all a bit unnerving for Kate Prewett, who had seated herself inconspicuously at a cosy little alcove for two in the corner. Her formerly distinguishable ginger hair was now a very light blonde, and the fresh faced teenager who once studiously avoided makeup was now sporting carefully applied eyeliner and rosy red-painted lips. She held her glass of gillywater in both hands, looking slightly timid, but with none of the uptight tension she would have displayed in her youth. There was a slim packet of cigarettes sitting beside her on the table, but following the rules displayed at the counter, they remained untouched. One might go so far as to say that Kate had grown up, though plenty of people would disagree with that.

Being back in this place was no doubt awkward for her, having left Britain on less than stellar terms almost four years ago. Though she had been petulant, stubborn and self-involved as a teen, few people wouldn't have expected her to become a well known player in the Death Eater regime. Of course, being all of the things listed above, she hadn't surprised nearly as many people as she thought she would when she abandon her best friend Katherine, along with two young twins and everyone else she'd ever known, to disappear into the Irish countryside at the proposal of a practically unheard of 36 year old pureblood man. It was clear from the start that she didn't love him. She didn't even intent to marry him, if she was perfectly honest with herself. But the responsibility and monotony of the last years in the Manor had sobered her. The world she'd once been a part of had disenchanted her and she'd left. She liked to think it was the mature thing to do, but by Kate's standards that wasn't saying much. She may still have been irresponsible, selfish and searching for a quick escape from something she no longer found amusing, but at least she had done it this time with less...flamboyance. That counted as progress, right?

It was natural then that hated being in England, and until now circumstances had never forced her back here. She'd never planned to face the life she left behind.

Unfortunately for her, the life she left behind chose this moment to walk through the door.

Meredith Malfoy was unmistakable from the moment she entered the Leaky Cauldron, her blonde hair much the same as it always had been, her style impeccable, and her body language as prim and haughty as ever. Everything about the girl just oozed pureblood pride. Kate winced. This wasn't what she wanted at all, or where she wanted to be, and God she hated that.

She thought Meredith looked distracted as she sat at the bar – though it was hard to tell with Mer – and true to form, as soon as she saw an opportunity Kate rose to leave. She probably would have managed to sneak out too, if it hadn't been for the glass of gillywater she'd forgotten about in her distraction, managing to swipe clean off the table as she moved. It landed with quite an audible smash at her feet, and she had just a second to spare a thought for her ruined shoes before looking up from the fragmented mess to face her childhood friend.

OOC|| Disclaimer: Writer's block sucks and grammar isn't my friend and I apparently I don't even know where they are. I was having a good day when I wrote this.

[Meredith Yaxley]

Meredith's head jerked up at the noise, which was only noticeable because the bar was so quiet. At first, she disregarded the woman who had broken the glass, mostly because she was not particularly remarkable. But as she looked her up and down critically (as Meredith was the kind of person who could not go five minutes without critically judging someone), she realized that it wasn't a stranger at all. A sort of wry smile tugged at her lips as she turned on her bar stool to face her childhood friend.

Honestly, Meredith hadn't thought about Kate a great deal after she had fled England. It wasn't that she was unconcerned for her old friend's fate, it was just that there had been more pressing issues to attend to, and as the years wore on, the question of how Kate Prewett and her mysterious husband were faring had faded away.

"Kate." She greeted shortly, taking another another sip of her drink before she continued. "You dropped your glass." She stated snidely as she indicated the broken glass, somehow making the statement of fact sound like an insult.

[Kate Prewett]

'Breathe.'

With only a fraction of a second to steady her nerves before Meredith's cooly appraising gaze locked on hers, Kate faked a small gasp of recognition. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she tried to look for all the world like a normal young woman, running into a normal old classmate as normal people did. This needn't be about anything more than that.

“Meredith!” She exclaimed pleasantly, as if she hadn't just been caught running from the woman in a panic. She glanced down at the mess of gillywater and glass pieces when Meredith mentioned her clumsiness (and if Kate had harboured any thoughts of Mer having changed since Hogwarts, they quickly evaporated), then forced herself to laugh in reply.

“What can I say, I miss the days when this place was...rowdier.” She glanced at an elderly couple sharing lunch a few tables over. “It's all changed so much.” For just a moment, her shoulders slumped minutely and her voice sounded almost wistful. Then her careful composure was back, and she flicked her wand at the mess she'd made, vanishing it.

Now that her heartbeat had steadied, she took a moment to properly look at Meredith, for the first time in so many years. She hadn't changed, really. Her hair was shorter ('more stylish. Suits her.' Kate thought with a jealous twinge), and her clothes were more business-like than the Meredith she remembered; but otherwise Kate could have fooled herself into thinking the woman was still 17 years old. Maybe she just wasn't remembering correctly. The Meredith of her school years had always seemed older and more sophisticated and larger than life, back when they were both so small and young.

“I suppose the place is popular now, though,” she added in a haughty tone, “it's perfectly suited to plain people who like to play at style and sophistication. ...Do you come here often?”