She kept her face perfectly blank as that warmth intensified. Kept from darting her eyes across the room, wondering how many of those in attendance would be alive when it was all said and done. Kept her breathing even, willed her heartbeat to stay slow and steady as she began outlining the logistics of what would have to follow. The meeting would be over in an hour, on the outside. She would need to change into her leathers, would need to grab a few knives in case the pretty men (or, more accurately, Hermione) had any ill-thought out plans on incapacitating or otherwise trapping her. She would need a few of her better knick knacks from her bag of tricks, in the event she actually did end up trapped or at a pretty man's mercy.