Getting right to the heart of the matter. Michael approved. Too much time, in his opinion, had been spent talking about rebelling and not enough actually doing something about it. People could bitch all they wanted about Dingle's little attacks on Diagon Alley and whoever had done those last couple of bombings, but at least those responsible hadn't sat around with a self-righteous stick up their arses. It didn't matter what you believed if you didn't match deeds to words.
Sort of like Potter. Michael wasn't impressed by the Boy Who Was Being Bloody Useless Now There Wasn't A Voldemort In The Equation -- yeah, yeah, big wizarding hero, they all owed their lives to him in the big picture, but that didn't mean Michael or any of them, really, ought to be following Harry blindly like his word was the word of God. They'd spent months in Hogwarts without the guy, he didn't have Michael's personal trust; Alicia was right. They weren't a real army where you had to jump to orders just because HQ said some schmuck was your commander now; respect and trust were things that had to be earned, situation by situation, and in this, Harry hadn't. After Anthony had burned him with the use of the Unforgivables, Michael was wary about following just anyone.
Yet. Michael was willing to give second chances, or otherwise he'd be part of the complaining, sitting-on-arses majority. He finished off Harry's drink and nodded -- reluctantly, approvingly -- at the mention of tracking charms. "Them fucking things are cramping my style. Thought someone was working on 'em, but I dunno, that were ages ago. Probably thought we had more time." There was an edge of derision on that last word; of course people thought they had time because they weren't willing to act right away. "So let's hear it. What's the plan?"