Inquiring

[Tiffany Bellefleur.]

The image was burned into her mind, on instant replay over and over again.

Michael Armstrong is with the Resistance.

It was written in lopsided, over-the-top handwriting, but it was legible nonetheless. Once the quill had dotted the ending period, the tiny piece of paper it had written on burst into flames. Overdramatic much? But that was the way of the secret keeper.

Tiffany had been casually minding her own business, sitting at a secluded table in the Hog’s Head. She had wanted to escape all social encounters, her whole reason for leaving Hogwarts in the first place, so she was unsurprisingly dismayed when a hooded figure had made its— she had no idea of their gender— way to her table, nonchalantly pulling up a chair. Sliding in right next to her, it almost tempted her to leave, but she was caught in the stranger’s intense stare. It was then they pulled out paper and quill, imparting that important information to her of all people. The secret keeper, as she finally found them to be when she realized she was now under the Fidelius Charm, left at once.

Puzzled, she returned to Hogwarts, not quite believing what had just taken place. She figured that the person must have known her secret inhibitions, through a Freudian slip, or something of that nature. She was unsettled by the thought of someone watching her that closely. The information that they had imparted to her drove her to her wit’s end, for her every waking hour, as she attempted to find out who this Michael Armstrong actually was. Finally gleaning that he was working at the Wizarding Housing Authority, she made up her mind at once.

And that was how she had ended up at the WHA Headquarters at the present. Not like it was hard, since Hogsmeade was in such close proximity to the school.

“I’m interested in a job,” she said with absolute conviction. Her pureblooded pompousness was working at its best. She was speaking to a middle aged woman who worked in the front, apparently a receptionist of some sort. “I haven’t graduated yet, but I’m looking for some info on relocation. I heard that a Mr. Armstrong has been around a while and is pretty good at it. Do you think I could go ask him a few questions really fast?” She smiled convincingly, her voice still dripping with command. It was obvious she was used to having her way. The woman directed her to a floor and hallway, and Tiffany was off.

She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to pull this entire thing off, but it was the opportunity she was always waiting for, and she couldn’t let it slip by. Stopping outside what she presumed was the office of a Resistance member, she knocked twice, loudly.

“Excuse me?”

[Michael Armstrong.]

[ I'M WIDE AWAKE AFTER THE RIOT , THIS DEMONSTRATION OF OUR ANGUISH ]
this empty laughter has no - - reason like a bottle of your
( favorite poison )

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Every single member of the resistance held the secret within their soul; the resistance existed. The members ranged from school age to nearly a century old. Even with starting nearly two years ago, the group hadn’t grown in numbers outrageously like both he and the leader had hoped for. Voldemort had people in the palm of his hand, exactly how he wanted them. Absolutely terrified of him and not willing to rise up against his followers and himself. The purebloods reigned supreme and whether it meant a certain death or not for him, Michael remained loyal to the cause and was forever looking to recruit new members. Whether it was another student entrusted with the secret or an older member willing to spend their last days fighting for a cause that seemed lost and helpless in the world it lived him.

Michael found himself sitting in his office on the fourth floor of the Wizarding Housing Authority, staring at the envelope he’d just received. A member was informing him of a person to be looking out for, someone would perhaps be visiting him soon about inquiries of the cause. He was a bit puzzled as his brows furrowed, he sat up a bit straighter as he read over the message once again before tossing it into the fireplace.

Pulling out a quill, Michael ran a hand through his hair and let out a groan. The idea that someone new knew about the group worried him slightly. If the wrong person found out, regardless of who it was and the Fidelius Charm protecting them, it wouldn’t take much for the information to reach Voldemort. All it would take would be the original keeper’s death. A shudder went through his body at the thought as he began to write his response. Ignoring the sound of footsteps nearing his office, he only looked up upon hearing two knocks. Raising a brow, he questioned himself at the sight of the girl in front of him. Deciding that he didn’t recognize her from anywhere and she perhaps was the one the member had written him about, Michael quickly placed the letter in a desk drawer before motioning for her to enter.

“Come in, Ms..?” Michael trailed off as he gave a flick of his wand and a chair moved across the room, planting itself in front of him for her. “What can I do for you?” He questioned before she could even give out a reply, his face becoming a bit more stern with the question.

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4 2 7| words |
world so cold - mudvayne | music |
murder city - green day | lyrics |
holly @ caution 2.o
spaceship @ caution 2.0 for the banner | credit |

[Tiffany Bellefleur.]

Though she had rushed headlong into this, Tiffany hadn’t thought so far ahead as to know exactly how she was going to act once she got to this point. Her habit of acting on impulse proved itself wonderful once again. She had been feeling quite confident with herself thus far, but suddenly realized she should have been much more subdued. There was a lot at stake when speaking of the Resistance, and doing so inside the WHA Headquarters of all places could be very risky. She wondered briefly if it was possible for the secret keeper to have been a ploy, but dismissed the thought. She would just have to find out.

“I’m called Tiffany Bellefleur,” she replied, voice strong and unwavering. At least it wouldn’t give away her doubts as she was just a smidgeon scared under all of her bravado. She smiled winningly, not showing teeth, and stepped into the room. She made sure to secure the door behind her, knowing it would not do for the conversation she was about to illicit to stray to unfriendly ears. She stepped over to his desk and sat in the offered chair as if she owned the place, trying her best to appear as confident as possible. In the event that he wasn’t with the Resistance, at least she might appear to be playing some kind of juvenile joke on a respected authority, pro her Slytherin ways.

The man looked rather well settled in with his job, in her perspective, and her doubts were setting in more and more. Pureblooded no doubt, to be working in such a place, the levity of such information finally struck her. She had possibly found another blood traitor. She felt a strange sense of reassurance that she was not alone in her betrayal. But she was still slightly wary, given the setting of the entire ordeal, and it had only just begun. Oh, the problems of getting yourself into strange and unfamiliar situations. But she would not back down, nor would she let her conflicted emotions penetrate the surface.

Crossing her legs, she leaned her body slightly across his desk, so that her voice would be sure to carry. Eyes locking with his, she decided she might as well get this over with.

“I want to spy for the Resistance,” she said seriously, in just over a whisper, her paranoia of being overheard subconsciously setting in. She did not waver in her assertion, but she did not expound upon it either. She figured she must have looked silly demanding such a thing with no credentials, but she didn’t really know what else to say. She practically held her breath after letting it out in the open. If going about it in a silly way, at least she was also sure to be theatrical.

[Michael Armstrong.]

[ I'M WIDE AWAKE AFTER THE RIOT , THIS DEMONSTRATION OF OUR ANGUISH ]
this empty laughter has no - - reason like a bottle of your
( favorite poison )

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Michael’s eyes narrowed a bit as the door was closed and locked, she had the right idea if she was who he believed her to be and that was a good sign but even if she turned out to be a promising member, she had to be tested. His eyes remained trained on her as she sat, he made no try to end the silence between them until she had. His brows raised a bit as she leaned forward, he was certainly intrigued about whatever she had to say. Even with the letter he had, it hadn’t fully prepared him for what she inevitably said. His eyes widened slightly as her words penetrated completely. He leaned back and crossed his ankles, watching her as he set his elbows on the arm of his chair, his fingertips now resting against each other, fingers splayed as he studied her for a moment longer before speaking. “Resistance? What makes you think I’d be involved in such a thing?” He asked, studying her. He knew testing her confidence in who she was could very well make or break his response. Someone involved in the cause had to be confident about themselves and their answers. God forbid they were ever questioned without truth serum, they’d have to pretend their lies were the truth. Hopefully they would lie because spilling the secret could mean the persecution of so many witches and wizards alike.

Standing, Michael moved over to the pictures aligning the wall. Many were pictures of him with other members of the resistance that were easily just passed off as his friends if any curious soul asked. Even if they were suspicious, there was no way that anything could be found out from the pictures alone. It was almost a way to keep Michael’s head on straight, to remember what he was fighting for even when he was working on a family’s case. It was the hardest when he had to send families away, knowing that some may never be heard of again but there was only so much he could do for them. It couldn’t be expected for one person to change the entire world but...”What would you want with a resistance any way? Much less spying for them...” Michael trailed off as he twisted around on his heel and moved forward, taking his seat again. Refocusing his gaze on her, he was thinking it over in his head as he stared at her.

Tiffany couldn’t be of age yet so she was more than likely still in school, a spy within the school could work wonders for the resistance. Students would be boasting about what their relatives were doing, or what they were going to do. Trying to get more popular and if Tiffany were to overhear such a thing, it could be beyond valuable but he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with a student being a spy. It was bad enough that he felt bad with adults risking their lives, a student at risk may be a risk but the more and more he thought about it, it was one perhaps they would have to take for things to be turned in their favor. Michael shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he looked back to her.

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5 5 6| words |
world so cold - mudvayne | music |
murder city - green day | lyrics |
holly @ caution 2.o
spaceship @ caution 2.0 for the banner | credit |

[Tiffany Bellefleur.]

Tiffany furrowed her brows. Once again, she had had no idea what to expect to begin with, but it certainly wasn’t this. She never knew what was coming next, and she supposed that would have to be the way things were if she were to pursue this field of insight. Of course, she wasn’t hoping that he would throw down a selection of Resistance pamphlets, invite her to their next potluck, or some other such ridiculous thing. That would have simply been far too comical and farfetched to stand, and she was rather relieved that he hadn’t thrown down the welcome wagon for her immediately, not that she should have expected it. She knew the Resistance was a very careful organization, and it was no doubt that it should be wary of those seeking new membership.

She regarded Michael coolly, taking in his words and letting their meaning sink in. Yes, Tiffany, what did make you think he’d be involved in such at thing? She pondered this question, knowing her answers would have to be precariously careful as well as meaningful and self revealing. That didn’t sound complicated at all. She supposed that if he weren’t a Resistance member he would have thrown his hands in the air, or something equally dramatic, demanding her why in the dark lord’s name she had come barging into his office to ask about such traitorous subjects. His cool response was reassuring to her in itself in that field of consideration.

Her eyes followed his movements, as he stood, paced, and sat, and the whole prolonging of the ordeal made her just the slightest bit more wary. This circumstance was taxing to her persona, as she wanted to make all the right moves, say all the proper things, and get what she wanted in the end without making mistakes. These activities were things she dealt with frequently, just not in such serious terms. Pondering a way to go about responding to him, she straightened up in her chair and gave the fiercest gaze she could muster.

“Well, I suppose whether or not you are associated with such a Resistance is neither here nor there,” she said, elusively. She decided to speak on strictly hypothetical terms, while at the same time being completely serious about them, hoping her underlying meaning would strike through. “However, were you to be, I think you would find me of great help. My family is in a long line of pureblood enthusiasts, and I am well on my way to becoming a death eater after I graduate, which I am so looking forward to.” She grimaced, inwardly cursing her father. “I am the perfect Slytherin princess, and everyone knows how much I hate anyone who isn’t a pureblood. They trust me. They tell me everything.” She made sure to put substantial inflection on ‘everything’ even though she was slightly exaggerating. She briefly smiled, content with her assertions, before leaning back again. Her expression turned somewhat dismayed and contorted, as she tried to put words to something.

“The world…” she continued to try to grasp what to say. She started over. “The world just isn’t right… I can’t stand it.” She almost looked pained. She had never revealed these thoughts and feelings to anyone before, and she didn’t know how exactly to go about it. She looked back up at Michael, suddenly realizing how much she really trusted him and his cause, eyes full of her conflicting feelings.

[Michael Armstrong.]

[ I'M WIDE AWAKE AFTER THE RIOT , THIS DEMONSTRATION OF OUR ANGUISH ]
this empty laughter has no - - reason like a bottle of your
( favorite poison )

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Many of those that lived by the secret of the resistance were pained over their allegiance, there was simply no way to get around the fact that the world they now lived in was so much more different than that which they grew up in. He understood where she stood, it was probably even more difficult for her than adults, they had to grow up in a world like this. He shook his head and sighed as he leaned forward to focus on her. Especially if she was a pureblooded witch coming from a long line of purists, the fact that you had different beliefs than your family did could kill a person emotionally. Michael knew that first hand and it had had its own affect on him. There was no end to the anguish he felt when he watched someone that mattered to him go through the same pain he felt. Many of the people fighting quietly within the resistance dealt with some sort of situation with their family and feeling like they had betrayed them. Shaking his head at the thought, trying to clear his head and refocus himself on the current situation, he made eye contact with the girl sitting in front of him.

“You aren’t alone in your pain, Tiffany. I can assure you of that. I, alone stand proof of that. However there’s an extensive line of wizards and witches in the very same spot you find yourself standing today. I suspect you’ve felt this way for a long time...but now you’ve decided to take action against what we all know is wrong. Very few students would be brave enough to stand, though I’m sure those that do will be contacting you shortly upon your return to Hogwarts,” Michael spoke, speaking each word as he decided it was the correct one to use. He had relaxed a bit in his chair, leaning back and set his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked to her. He was seeing her but his thoughts were elsewhere. His brows furrowed as he twisted his lips around a bit, trying to decide how to go about the situation completely.

“I...am not sure about this. It’s rather surprising and quite courageous that you’re so young yet so willing to fight for us, for what’s right. Not to mention the extensive line of Dark Lord supports in your family, this generation and the ones before them. I know how angry it could make me however if I wasn’t given the chance to fight, we don’t want you to feel like we’re turning you away and by ‘we’ I mean the resistance,” Michael paused, slowly returning to the room as he took a deep breathe. Closing his eyes for a moment, he reopened them and made up his mind to make her aware of his decision. He had already gone over every situation possible. “You won’t be participating in events...whether it be an offensive attack or whatnot until we know you’re loyalty is true. Don’t take this decision as a bad thing, we’ve just got to be very careful about who joins our ranks and I do hope you prove it. You seem promising,” he paused as he shifted in his seat, resting his other arm on the arm rest, his chin transferring to the open palm. “Though I’m going to give you permission to spy within the school and strictly the school for now,” he finished up, giving a nod as if to approve of his decision to himself. Michael was going to warn her what she was getting into before this move was over, there was no way he couldn’t. She very well could end up risking her life for the cause and it would be wrong for him not to.

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6 5 5 | words |
world so cold - mudvayne | music |
murder city - green day | lyrics |
holly @ caution 2.o
spaceship @ caution 2.0 for the banner | credit |

[Tiffany Bellefleur.]

Tiffany felt as if all of the tension had just melted away. Having just spilled her guts, she had found herself in a much more subdued state, her earlier antics fading into a calm lull. Instead of concentrating on her dramatics and overly emphasized confidence, she had sunk into a helplessness as she thought about her confession. The levity of everything was beginning to sink far into her, and she knew she was beginning to feel overwhelmed. She knew that this was just the beginning, that she would have to prepare herself mentally, not allowing this kind of behavior to take shape. She needed to be confident in all she did, but she found herself seeing her attitude at present to be strangely acceptable. She simply needed that small comfort that came with truthfully expressing her feelings, and felt very grateful that she had done so, intended or not.

Casting her eyes down at his desk, she listened very carefully, ears open to everything Michael said. It was surprising how much comfort she drew from his first words, as she confirmed she was not the only blood traitor. This man, at least, could understand her conflicted feelings. She then found herself intrigued by the thought of meeting other Hogwarts students who would ally against the Dark Order, cocking her head only slightly. Each of Michael’s words was deeply resounding in her mind, as she was hanging on every one of them, though she made herself appear rather nonchalant. But, as she heard him state his unsureness, her eyes snapped back up to his and she straightened ever so slightly in her chair. Those words were never a good sign. In fact, they had scared her, until she listened to him expound upon it further.

Tiffany thought about his rules very carefully, considering them from every angle. Unconsciously, she had let her eyes narrow to slits in her intense concentration. She took only a moment to gather her mind, and her headstrong nature returned once again, just like that.

“I see what you are saying,” she began. “It all makes sense, actually, I can’t really say I object with you. I will say, however, that I am going to prove myself to you eventually.” She smiled, not so sure how she would pull that off aside from intense spying. She was actually very ecstatic to have been accepted to do anything at all, as she knew she could have simply been turned out on her head. “I will work my best to gather any information I can. I doubt that anyone will suspect me since I’m rather good at being a pureblooded fiend.” She supposed that that wasn’t really something to brag about.

“I suppose this is the time to say thank you, teacher, I will serve you well, or something like that,” she said, attempting some dry humor, smiling fully. Her juvenile nature was probably at fault. She had never really known if the Resistance had existed or not, her parents always telling her it was futile to go against the Dark Lord. They had made it clear any uprisings or rebellious sects would be vanquished immediately and unconditionally. The fact that it was here, before her, and that she was becoming a piece of it was almost mind boggling. But the truth was, she didn’t really know much about it, other than it was where she belonged. The logistics were a mystery.

She was still all ears for Michael, ready for anything further he might want to say.

[Michael Armstrong.]

[ I'M WIDE AWAKE AFTER THE RIOT , THIS DEMONSTRATION OF OUR ANGUISH ]
this empty laughter has no - - reason like a bottle of your
( favorite poison )

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Michael cracked his first grin - a lop sided smile as she cracked the joke. He probably wouldn’t have laughed in any other normal situation but this wasn’t a ‘normal’ situation by any means. “That would be nice. You can even courtesy if you want to get really into it,” he nodded before the smile fell and the serious look returned to his features. He supposed giving her a little bit of insight into their ranks couldn’t destroy them any way it was turned around so he took a deep breathe and brought his eyes up to meet hers again, “Your joining will make our numbers rise to nearly eighty people. While it’s not a lot compared to how many people live as a witch or wizard, it takes time to recruit members for such a cause in a dangerous world like ours. But with our heads held high, once this war is done and over with, we will remain and you’ll be known as an amazing witch. I can promise you that...while our numbers are small, we have friends in many places.

“Though I think I have a mission that would do well for your first and would do good to put you on the right track within our organization,” he began to speak once the idea had seemed to form out of no where in his mind. He set his hand in his chin, gently rubbing it with his ring finger as he thought a bit more about it for a moment. Making a few faces before seemingly coming back from his thoughts, he looked up to her and tilted his head to the side, “If anyone seems to ever stick out to you, who may be interested in joining, student-wise, talk to them and see if you can figure them out a bit more and if they seem to be into it, refer them to me at this office. If any teachers stand out to you, let me know and I will handle it. You don’t need to get involved with any adult affairs yet, even though you’re close to being one yourself,” he murmured softly.

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3 7 6 | words |
cowboy way - hellyeah | music |
murder city - green day | lyrics |
holly @ caution 2.o
spaceship @ caution 2.0 for the banner | credit |