Caitriona made a point of not frequenting the Ministry of Magic. She found politics frustrating, so many of the people involved were imbeciles, and yet her parents both agreed that politics weren’t an appropriate area of interest for a young lady of her stature. So she tried to ignore it whenever possible, but the other day she’d received a notice from the auror in charge of Xavier’s death that he wanted to meet to discuss the case. It was pointless, to her mind. The Yaxelys were too powerful for the Ministry to risk publicly accusing their late heir of being a Death Eater, even though he most certainly had been, and Xavier had had no acceptable excuse for being where he was when he’d died. There was nothing to do but list him as a civilian casualty of the war, yet every month or so Caitriona was summoned to the auror office to sit next to her former in-laws and listen to updates she’d heard dozens of times before.
Needless to say, Caitriona was not looking forward to this morning’s meeting, and she’d stopped by the cafe in the atrium to get some tea to carry her through. At the very least, it was supposed to give her something to do other than roll her eyes at Yvette or make rude comments that were better left unsaid, but that plan was foiled when someone fleeing an office with no regard for other passersby ran straight into her. Caitriona’s tea went flying, but the sharp condemnation on the tip of her tongue faded when she recognized Marlene McKinnon.
There had been a time in Caitriona’s life when Marlene was one of her favorite people. As children they’d been friends, exploring wixen London together despite their parents’ wishes, but things had changed as they got older and Caitriona doubled down on her commitment to her family. Toward the end of their time at Hogwarts, they’d barely spoken despite the fact that they shared a dorm. So Caitriona raised her eyebrows when Marlene offered to replace her tea. It was a bad idea but Caitriona was rather desperate to avoid her meeting with the remaining Yaxleys, and she was in the mood for a bad idea. Still, a voice in her head that sounded like ten year old Caitriona whispered that she couldn’t let Marlene off too easily. “It certainly was. What happened to the grace and coordination of one of Slytherin’s favorite chasers?”
She’s processing the face that’s in front of her, lips in a tight line, and for a moment Marlene can’t breath, because she’s a little girl whose running through the streets, weaving through people unable to keep her squeals of joy quiet. A stark contrast to the girl behind, the ever quiet, ever poised Caitriona who captured Marlene’s attention from the first meaning. No child should be that quiet, no child should look so out of place. She can remember thinking that even at her young age, her own loud upbringing a polar opposite to the girl before. It was decided from first meeting that Marlene would drag this bird with her into whatever trouble she could find. It had been likely the first friendship Marlene forged outside of her immediate family, arguably it had been Caitriona that had taught her how to be a friend. Ironically enough, standing before the girl now it dawned on her that she’d also taught her how to be a stranger
At the word’s she offers a small smile, her voice remaining neutral as she answers, “She’s a bit out of practice when it comes to coordination. Hit Witches don’t need grace, they need to be able to break down doors.” It’s a bittersweet statement as she remembers that she used to love the time she’d spend on a broom. Practices and games had been one of her favorite things. “I apologize again. If you’d like I’d be happy to replace that for you.” Her head nods once more to the drink unsure of which answer she wanted to hear. A yes would offer a chance to talk to her, something Marlene hadn’t done in such a long while. But a no would be easier, cleaner for the both of them. There would be no confusion on where they stood.
