Hermione curled into her chair, arms wrapped around her knees, with her head in between. After a few awkward minutes the sobbing subsided, and Lily coughed, testing the waters.

Strange that she had prepared in advance for Albus' death, but not for comforting distraught teenagers. Lily promised herself to do better next time.

"Do you really think he's going to die?" The young girl spoke at long last.

"Not immediately, not soon. But he will no longer be able to face Voldemort as his equal, and that means Hogwarts will not long be safe from attack. Which is why I need your help."

Hermione nodded.

The headline was triumphant, as Lucius Malfoy's pawns would rightly feel at the news. For the first time in history, Azkaban was breached. Azkaban was broken.

"AZKABAN'S DOORS OPEN TO DARK LORD; MINISTRY CONSIDERS SURRENDER"

Something in Neville broke. A feeling that might previously have been fear was instead a terrible, molten rage.

"As much as I wish it weren't true, I think you must be right about the Headmaster. I can't think what else might be meant by the golden phoenix." Lily covered a scoff with a smile and Hermione continued. "The 'another shall rise' could mean that he'll create another horcrux; perhaps after we find the rest. Or it could mean the arrival of another powerful wizard... or both, due to the repetition. The bit about 'true dark' and 'deep black,' could that be about Azkaban?" Lily smiled, nodding along.

"Good analysis. I'd let you back to class, but for one correction. I suspect 'deepest black' refers to Regulus Arcturus Black, and that this refers to Slytherin's locket being in his possession. Unfortunately it may be better guarded there than it would have been in the cave."

Hermione frowned. "Why would you think that? And how on earth was I supposed to guess it?"

Lily's smile spread all the way to her eyes this time, and she let out a small laugh. "Oh, you weren't, dear. I simply had the pleasure of meeting Regulus through an old friend. And of reading this note, which he left inside a fake locket. Which is in his handwriting, and his style. The pompous ass."

"You know this is dangerous, right, Neville?"

"I know, Cedric. You think I don't know?!" Neville almost shouted. The waiting, the itching. He NEEDED it, needed to let it out.

"Well," Cedric hesitated slightly, checking his watch. "It has been he right amount of time. Let me put my shields up." Cedric began muttering charms, and Neville took in the padded walls that graced the room; the doors, the obstacles, the distances, and as Cedric silenced, Neville growled.

"So the Black house is protected by a secret-keeper? Who do you think it is? And how could we possibly get to it?"

"Miss Granger, we will. I have another meeting, with the Headmaster. I trust that you will soon puzzle out who is closest to the Blacks, and safest. Now get back to potions like I told you to ten minutes ago."

As Lily left, Hermione cursed the thought that after this she had to go back to... and then it sank in. And Hermione's jaw dropped at the audacity.

Neville leapt.

Not leapt, pounced.

"Minerva, I hope you understand."

"I'm quite sure I don't, Albus! We need you, now more than ever! With the Dark Lord returned there is no other safe haven in all Britain! Xenophilius and Amos and Ambrosius have all owled me-after several unfavorable responses from you which is all rather confusing and frightening, if you don't mind my saying so, Headmaster!"

Albus smiled wearily, as though the corners of his mouth needed to lift a thousand tons just to move the small distance.

"I trust that you will be able to do the paperwork for adjunct professorships when you are Headmistress, Minerva. As for myself, there are a few maters left which I must trust the completion of to your hands, and Lily's. You see, Rubeus will be returning soon, ad as spring approaches many of Pomona's projects will be beginning to bloom."

Pounce, leap, twist, roar.

Minor hexes; sleep hexes, a full body-bind jix. No effect.

Claw, run, pounce.

Stupefy, incarcerous, impedimenta!

Roar, leap, bite.

Confringo! Expulso! Reducto!

With the last, the leonine form went flying back, finally unable to dodge or absorb the blow. Rolling with the fall, a few stinging embers shattered onto his mane were extinguished.

And Neville, panting, lay on his back on the floor of the defense classroom, and stopped being a lion.

"Well, it seems that Caractacus Burke was correct. Anger does seem to increase your hex resistance. It won't help against the killing curse, but it's still quite something."

'Quite something? Understatement of the year, Cedric.' Neville thought, too tired to speak.