Show Me All Your Scars, I'll Be Delighted
Summary: When more of Dumbledore's secrets come out, Ivy concocts a plan to escape. She goes through the Veil and settles in Beacon Hills, searching for the family that was stolen from her.
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Chapter 2: Here, Hold My Morals
….I've Got Some Sketchy Crap To Take Care Of
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It was pitifully simple to get what she needed.
The emergency money she'd managed to squirrel away in the Horcrux Hunt was useful as she pawned a few galleons. Spinning a tale about old coins that came from her deceased great grandfather, the pawn shop owner was more than happy to haggle with her for it. She ended up walking out with three bulging bundles of American cash and a number for a discrete person who forged identities.
Buying a phone was difficult as Ivy had never had one. She wasn't accustomed to technology beyond the telly and the home phone. Out of her comfort zone, she went to the clerk for advice and proceeded to suffer through a lecture about burner phones, SIM cards, and slider phones.
Ivy was overwhelmed by the information overload but managed to buy a burner phone, a SIM card, and one of the slider phones with a keyboard that slid out of the side. She wasn't entirely sure what all of it meant but the clerk, Stacey, was nice enough to scrawl her number down so that she could call her if she needed any help.
It took an hour for the witch to figure out the basics for each phone. Since the burner was supposed to be anonymous, Ivy called the forger on that and haggled a price for forging her new identity.
They managed to agree on a price and he promised to have it all shipped to her by the end of the week.
In the meantime, Ivy parked herself in a cubby in the public library and dove into research on the computer.
It was the whole reason she'd gone through the Veil after all.
In King's Cross, Death-or Hel, as she preferred to be referred to-had been grateful for her acceptance, her willingness to meet her as a friend.
In her gratitude, the deity had given her a small bottle, filled with memories of things that had been stolen from her.
After the battle, Ivy had looked at those memories and was shocked to find that Dumbledore's secrets extended further than she could have ever fathomed.
She'd ransacked the Black Family Library, searching for what she needed, and did the blood spell that would give her what she wanted.
It was a very basic spell, serving as a rough genealogy sketch.
There, on the piece of parchment, was the undeniable proof.
Ivy had stood stock still, blood dripping down her arm as she ignored the cut, her eyes glued to the parchment.
The blood had formed two names, the names of her parents.
But it wasn't Lily and James Potter.
Peter Aurelius Hale
Willa Maeve Turner
They were what led her to where she was now, in what she was fast coming to believe to be another dimension or world.
All she had were those two names and she ran with them.
Fortunately, the surname Hale seemed to show results.
The results were far from what she'd hoped.
Article after article described the Hale House Fire that had taken place in 2005. It was determined to be caused by an electrical malfunction. Eleven people had died that day, burned to death in the house.
Ivy couldn't hold back the tears as she read through the list of deceased, horrified that five of them had been children.
Some of them could have been her cousins or siblings. With the surname, it was clear they were relatives of some kind to her.
Grief slammed into her with all the force of a truck when she realized that they were her family and she had never even gotten the chance to meet them.
She'd always wanted a big family, dreaming of dozens of cousins, aunts and uncles, and parents who loved her.
Those dreams had been carefully tucked away when she'd learned the truth of Lily and James Potter's deaths-her adoptive parents-but they bloomed once more when she'd seen the truth.
Ivy was under no delusions that her biological parents would accept her. She'd been stolen from them and had been missing for seventeen years. There was a high chance they'd moved on with their lives.
Still, she wanted to know them. She wanted to know who she was.
Not Ivy Potter, the daughter of Lily Evans, one of the most gifted witches to ever pass through Hogwarts, and James Potter, a wizard who had surpassed all expectations and became an Auror.
Not the Girl-Who-Lived, the orphan who survived while her parents were murdered.
Not the Chosen One, the girl who fought tooth and claw to survive her Hogwarts years as half the world wanted her dead and the other wanted to manipulate her into being their hero.
She wanted to know who she was by birth, what name she had been given before Dumbledore ripped it away and gave her a new one.
Wiping away the tears, Ivy shook herself firmly and concentrated, pushing past the upsetting information to review the rest.
Her eyes locked on the familiar name of Peter Hale and widened when she read that he survived the fire.
He suffered from fourth degree burns all over and had fallen into a coma, transferred to the long term care ward of Beacon Hills Hospital.
A strange sound escaped her mouth, something between a high pitched whine and a strangled laugh, as she blinked back tears of relief, slumping back in her chair.
Her biological father had survived, even if he wasn't in a good place right now, with all the damage done.
Fumbling for the slider phone, Ivy grinned as she called Stiles.
"Hello?"
"Hey love, any chance you'd like to do something with me today?"
"Ivy! I see you took my advice," Stiles sounded like he was grinning too. "Sure, what do you wanna do?"
"Wanna go shopping? I think I'll probably need some new clothes soon," Ivy asked, glancing down at her t-shirt and jeans. She'd washed them in the sink with a bar of soap but that couldn't last.
"Do you even have the money for that?"
"Oh yeah. Don't ask, I'll tell you later," she glanced at the librarian, who was giving her a very pointed look, and lowered her voice. "I'm at the public library but I'll wait for you outside."
"That sounds suspicious and possibly illegal. Alright, on my way."
When he rolled up in his trusty Jeep, Ivy climbed inside happily and launched into a description of what she'd done that day, including her pawn shop ventures and the information overload when she'd asked about phones.
Stiles was appropriately flabbergasted and fascinated. He demanded to see one of the gold coins she'd gotten from her deceased grandfather and Ivy let him inspect one of the galleons she hadn't sold.
Interestingly enough, the galleon looked nothing like the ones in the Harry Potter fictional series of this world.
Ivy wondered about that but she shrugged it off and dismissed it as not her problem. She had bigger problems to worry about.
Shopping was an adventure and it wouldn't have been even half as fun without Stiles.
Ivy couldn't remember when she'd last laughed so much, to the point that her stomach ached and her eyes watered.
They had a blast trying on random outfits that they picked out for each other.
Stiles preferred his flannels and artistic t-shirts but he could rock a button-up and boots.
Ivy, on the other hand, decided to explore. She liked a few of the dresses Stiles picked out-though she had to keep a glamor on to hide her scars for the sleeveless ones-and bought half a dozen pairs of jeans in differing colors, half a dozen graphic t-shirts-a few references she recognized but more Stiles promised her he'd show her-a pair of black steel-toed boots, a pair of black sandals, and a set of converse that she liked.
Of course, she'd also purchased the necessary toiletries-shampoo and conditioner, body wash, mouth wash, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, etc.
They had so many bags that they had to take a trip to the Jeep to settle them in the back before heading back inside to check out a comic book store Stiles liked.
Ivy was all wide eyes and she couldn't decide what to look at as he dragged her through the aisles, rambling about the difference between DC and Marvel.
While he geeked out over that, her attention was drawn to the small sections dedicated to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter.
When they walked out, Ivy was the new proud owner of the entire box series of Buffy and both the movies and books of the Harry Potter series while Stiles gushed over his new Batman comic.
After grabbing food from Mel's-the same diner they had their first date at, the two retreated to her hotel room.
Ivy took the time to hang up the clothes that needed it most desperately, such as the dresses, and left the rest in the bags as Stiles flopped down on the bed, already munching on his curly fries.
"Dude, you need to find a place. Like this works temporarily but you're gonna need an actual place of your own if you're gonna start buying stuff," Stiles advised.
"I know," Ivy sighed, glancing back at him as she hung up the last dress. "Any suggestions?"
Stiles grinned brightly and launched into a spiel about the apartment complexes he'd seen in the paper.
The rest of the night went on that way as they ate, chatting about her options beyond the temporary hotel room.
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The next few weeks passed quickly.
Ivy spent a lot of time with Stiles, getting to know him as she worked on her own projects.
Apparently, Stiles was the son of the Sheriff. Noah Stilinski, or Mr. Stilinski as she called him, was a hard-working man but he loved his son fiercely. He demanded to meet the girl his son had been spending so much time with and Stiles had brought her over for dinner.
Ivy had been nervous but she'd grown comfortable by the end of the night. She could see where Stiles' had gotten his kindness from, as the older man joked around with her and his son, even showing a few baby pictures while Stiles protested and floundered in the background.
He didn't push about her living situation but she could see the concern in his eyes. She didn't tell him the full situation but she let him know that she was okay, knowing that he would look into her background.
Thankfully, her new identity in this world had been fully set up.
Officially, Ivy Black was an emancipated seventeen-year-old from London who'd lost family and came to Beacon Hills for a new start. She was set to attend Beacon Hills High next month and had purchased a small one-bedroom apartment downtown.
Ivy was confident that he didn't find anything wrong with her files and he seemed satisfied as he welcomed her into their house, inviting her over for dinners.
While her friendship with Stiles grew, Ivy made progress on her personal project.
She visited the long term care ward of the hospital and discovered that Peter Hale had been missing for the past five months.
Frustrated, Ivy dived back into research and found out that a woman named Kate Argent had been tied to the Hale House Fire, along with several other people, who were all dead. Kate Argent had been found in the burnt wreckage of the Hale House with her throat ripped out.
Ivy couldn't deny a flicker of vicious satisfaction at that.
The woman had killed eleven people, five of which had been children.
If she hadn't already been dead, Ivy would have made sure of it.
The one thing she couldn't figure out was why.
Why kill an innocent family?
From what she'd heard around town, the Hale family was well-respected and peaceful. They kept to themselves but didn't hesitate to help when someone came to them with a problem.
Ivy would have written it off as a psycho who did it for fun but she knew better.
It was too meticulous to be random.
Ivy trekked out to what was left of the Hale House and investigated, searching for clues.
There was something missing, a single unknown fact that made the whole thing connect.
From what the article said, it sounded like the family had been asleep when the fire started and they didn't have time to get out.
But if that was true, then why had the bodies been found in the basement?
Ivy found a clue in the specks of dark powder that lined the broken window of the basement.
There wasn't much but it was enough to distinguish it from the ash and charred furniture.
Rubbing it between her fingers, Ivy cocked her head and pondered it's identity.
In the back of her mind, Rogue stirred and growled at the specks of powder, declaring it a threat.
She didn't recognize it but obviously it was important.
Slipping it into a vial and tucking that away in her bag, she retreated to her apartment, mind spinning with all the variables she had.
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"Scott, this is Ivy," Stiles introduced, shuffling nervously as the two sized each other up. "I know you've been pretty busy with work so it's cool. We've been hanging out a lot and it's been fun so I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet her."
Ivy inspected the boy skeptically.
From what she'd gathered, Scott was a rather negligent friend to Stiles, who claimed that the Hispanic boy was his best friend and practically brother in all but blood.
"Uh hey," Scott said slowly, eyeing her. "Are you and Stiles dating? Dude, how did you meet her? I've never seen her before."
"Well-You see-That's…" Stiles floundered, looking to the dark-haired witch for help.
"You could say that," she smiled mischievously, green eyes gleaming. "I saved him from a group of runaway apes and he took me on a date."
Scott scrunched his nose up, clearly not knowing what to address first.
Stiles groaned, waving his hands frantically. "Some guys were giving me trouble at the gas station and she came up out of nowhere, doing this whole dramatic rescue thing and claiming we had a date to get to. It was pretty cool, not gonna lie. I figured after all that, the least I could do was give her that date."
"It was fantastic," Ivy's smile softened as she took one of his hands, tangling their fingers casually. "One of the best nights I've ever had."
Stiles beamed down at her, cheeks heating at the compliment.
Scott looked like his world had crashed to a halt as he stared at the two of them, as if Stiles dating anyone had broken his brain.
Ivy just bared her teeth at him in a grin.
She didn't have to explain her relationship with Stiles to anyone.
Especially the kid who had been ignoring him for weeks now.