Lyra was rather startled to see the woman behind her, though of course she shouldn't have been. The Leaky Cauldron was busy enough of its own accord to allow for some over spilling traffic into any of its various nooks and crannies, and this particular room happened to be the one entry point into the busiest commercial area of magical London. Even so, the relative quiet had made her feel more entitled to privacy than she really was, and it seemed an intrusion to suddenly have a stranger for company.

(Was this a stranger? She looked strikingly familiar, but after nearly four years without anything even resembling a familiar face, Lyra could not immediate determine where she might have known her from).

Lyra bowed her head slightly before responding, though it was not as a gesture of humility or embarrassment, as it might appear. Experience had taught her that this was the posture in which it was easiest for her fangs to go unnoticed — though of course, Lyra was usually dealing exclusively with Muggles, who neither knew what signs to look for nor would have been able to put them together, had they noticed them. Whether this rather meager attempt at subterfuge would fool a witch was anyone's guess, but she hoped it did. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to make her presence known to the wizarding world, and the back room of the Leaky Cauldron certainly didn't seem an auspicious location for it, in any event.

"My apologies — I've just realized I've forgotten something at home," she lied, stepping away from the wall to allow the other woman to pass. "You go ahead, please."

How long did the wall stay open? She couldn't recall, but maybe she could manage to follow her through if she could do so without being too conspicuous.