The two boys finally made it to the Room of Requirement; hot angry tears were streaming down Jimmy's face, and his throat was choked with sobs. Susan immediate rushed over to comfort him, but Michael headed over to report to Neville instead. He chuckled to himself a bit at the military feel of it all—like they were vigilante soldiers in a real war-time situation, operating against their general's orders or something. The chuckles died as he realised that it only felt that way because they were essentially soldiers, because they were in a real war-time situation, because they were engaging in covert operations against the orders of those in power. It struck him hard, and he staggered slightly.

"Alright, Mike?" Neville asked distractedly. He was pouring over a map of Hogwarts and muttering occasionally to himself.

"Sure," he replied casually. "Ran into Amycus on the way back, so I suppose I'll be sticking around a while. The kid's safe though."

Neville nodded, raising his head appraisingly. Upon apparently judging them both to be safe, he returned his eyes to the map. "Good work. There's a hammock over there for you." He gestured to a position in the room just as said hammock appeared and Michael took a moment to admire the boy's unerring manipulation of the room.

"Thanks, Neville. How're things going here?"

He sighed. "I would kill for Harry's map of the school right now."

"Trying to plan something out?"

"Yeah. We're going to try to get Peeves in on the next operation. With his help we could go beyond distraction and into destruction. My aim is to tie up classes for the next couple of days. I think everyone needs a bit of a break." He glanced around at the people in the room. They looked tired—exhausted—and Michael could see what he meant, but even so…

"But, mate, that's terrorism you're talking about."

Neville's face was grim. "Yeah, maybe it is. But we won't hurt anybody—we'll do this smart —we will not lower ourselves to their level." He paused. "Just think of it as a slightly different tactic. Instead of letting kids out of detention, we'll prevent them from going in to begin with."

Michael watched him sink into thought and retreated to his hammock. Cho and Anthony and a few other members were missing, clearly out on some sort of assignment, so he decided to use this time to himself to do some of his own thinking.

Neville had changed. Long gone was the shy, nervous boy of fifth year. He had grown, slowly, Michael presumed, into his strength and his ability—perhaps through his association with Harry. But this year… well, this year had changed everyone, really, but Neville most of all. He had looked around him and had seen the need for a leader. He had watched the horrible things happening around them and had seen the need for change. And rather than sitting back and hoping someone would step up, he had stepped up, had taken the initiative, had become their general. He was hardened now—jaded. It was almost a sad thing to see; something so supremely pure, shattered and melded into a weapon of war.

He thought of himself—of the things he'd done that day, the things he'd do tomorrow—and his eyes fell on Jimmy. He remembered how he'd abandoned him once they cleared the door. A little boy, distraught, in tears, reduced to one in a series of menial tasks. Another mission complete. Another battle won. Maybe he was becoming just as tempered a sword.