During the daytime, the Room of Requirement was a lot like the DA they all remembered under Harry's leadership—practicing spells and training for battle—, but there grew some definite differences as tactics were discussed, and fitness equipment made itself available. The tone in the room became one of a barracks, each soldier just as dedicated to victory as the next. Some moments Michael found himself disconcerted by the warlike mindsets he and his peers were adopting, but then he'd remember the feeling of hopeless futility that he'd experienced beyond the door, and a new surge of dedication to the movement was reinforced in his heart. It was much better to be proactive, than to wallow in despair—certainly he could never go back to it.

Activity was drawing to a close as darkness fell in a hush over the castle. This was usually the time when Neville would assign missions, and the members would prepare themselves to perform their tasks. Not anymore though. The night after saving Jimmy, Michael had been caught and recognized. The resulting torture was enough to cool everyone's heels for a while, but missions had stopped altogether when Neville's gran was taken.

Neville was instead pouring over a textbook for something or other, and steadfastly ignoring the distracting conversations around him. Most of the talk was about the rumour that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had broken into and escape from Gringotts. His eyes were drawn suddenly to the passageway to the Hog's Head.

"I'll be right back," he said lowly, striding through the portrait and leaving a wave of worry over the room.

When he returned moments later, a big grin on his face, it was to a chorus of gasps and exclamations. The prodigal trio had returned. Soon people were filtering continuously through the entrance—friends and family and peers—, and Harry and Luna disappeared to search for the Diadem. The room was tense as they waited, and though the Weasley twins put in a good effort, the laughs elicited were strained.

They were right on the precipice now, Michael could feel it. Anticipation flooded his veins and nerves made his fingers shake. The nervous energy rose as the minutes passed and Michael took to pacing the room.

"Michael, you're making me nervous," Cho whispered, tugging at his hand.

He offered her what he hoped was a comforting smile and moved to sit back down beside her. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I just feel—."

Harry burst into the room.

"Harry, what's happening?" Professor Lupin asked urgently.

"Voldemort's on his way—" The boy said this all with urgency, yes, but not a trace of terror and Michael felt a swell of respect mingled with his sudden unease. Cho squeezed his hand tightly and he pushed the fear away. It was time and they were prepared for this. For battle. His and Terry's eyes met and they nodded determinedly, standing to join the crowd that was pushing from the room.

To war.