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.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Teen Wolf, or anything else. None of it is mine. I appreciate all of the encouraging reviews. As for the select few who like to post reviews about how unoriginal my story is, if this isn't your cup of tea, just click out and go somewhere else already. I write for fun, not for reviews.
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Chapter 3: Don't Mind Me
…I'm Just Here To Establish An Alibi
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"What do you think?"
Ivy inspected herself critically in the mirror, lips curving into a smile.
Take all that away, what's left? Me.
The words were scrawled in black ink across her right hip, underwear folded back and jeans removed.
It was her very first tattoo and she absolutely adored it.
Once in the private back room, separate from where Stiles was with Scott, the tattoo artist, Cassie, listened to what she wanted and told her to take off her pants and underwear.
Ivy had been surprised to find another witch as Cassie casually mentioned that she could see the shimmer of the glamours and they needed to be removed so she could make sure she wasn't hitting anything important.
The two had chatted amiably about magic and spells as the older woman carefully drilled the words she wanted.
Ivy wasn't bothered by the pain, too distracted by the fascination of the topic.
From what the older witch told her, her magic was wild and untamed, less restricted than the magic that most witches held.
Cassie explained that hers came from rituals and the Earth itself, blessings that were given. Ivy's, however, came from her soul, all naturally hers.
When she expressed an interest in learning more about the different branches of magic, the pinkette wrote down her phone number and the address to a local shop that catered to the magical side of things.
"I love it," Ivy stated honestly, smile growing into a grin as she gingerly replaced the tape and bandage, then shimmied back into her jeans carefully.
"Good. Here's a list of instructions on taking care of it. If you have any questions, give me a call," Cassie handed her a list and ushered her out into the front room.
"Hey, how'd it go? Did it hurt?" Stiles asked, sitting in one of the chairs with an ice pack held to the side of his head.
"It went fine and it didn't hurt really. Felt more like a tickle than anything," Ivy answered, remaining standing instead of sitting next to him. "What happened to you? Did you get into a fight in the twenty minutes I was gone?"
"Nah, just fainted," he shrugged, embarrassed. "I don't like needles. I really don't like them."
"Understandable really. Do you want some Tylenol?"
"God yes."
Digging in her bag, Ivy pulled out the bottle of Tylenol she'd started carrying around and shook out two, handing them over. He swallowed them dry and gave her a grateful look.
"Thank you so much, lovely raven goddess."
"You're welcome, love," Ivy snickered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "While this outing has been fun, I've gotta go. I've still gotta get everything ready for tomorrow."
"Want me to pick you up in the morning for breakfast?" he offered, smiling up at her.
"Yes please. See you later, love."
Offering a wave over her shoulder, Ivy left the tattoo parlor and drove back to her apartment.
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Ivy found herself fidgeting with nerves the next morning, unable to quell the worries that were creeping up on her.
Her non-magical education was severely lacking, not having attended non-magical school since she was eleven.
She'd studied where she could, stealing time for late night study sessions with Hermione, but it was still far from ideal, too busy dealing with teachers trying to kill her, the heavy course load of Hogwarts classes, and struggling under the expectations the Wizarding World placed on her.
As a result, although she was almost eighteen, Ivy was placed in the tenth grade, sophomores, she believed they were called.
This meant she would share classes with Stiles and Scott.
Which was good.
She knew Stiles would be right there to help if she faltered at any point.
Like he was doing now, she noted absently, listening to his rambling as they parked.
"It's going to be okay, you know. We share most of the same classes and the same lunch so we'll be able to sit together if you want. I'll have to introduce you to Allison, Scott's first love, and Lydia, the strawberry blonde goddess of Beacon Hills," he rambled on, mindless to her raised eyebrow at the affectionate title.
She wondered what this Lydia had done to hold that title in his mind and if the two were more involved than suspected.
"Are you two…romantically involved?" The witch asked hesitantly, moving to tug her hand out of his to create some distance. "I know we've had dates but I want to cause problems if you fancy the girl."
Stiles caught her hand before it went too far and firmly intertwined their fingers, squeezing warmly. "Hey no, no that's not what this is. I was like hardcore in love with her for years but I'm not anymore. We were never together or anything so you don't have to worry about that."
Ivy bit her lip, uncertain.
Before Stiles, she hadn't had any experience with dating. Sure, there were a few kisses from Cho and Ginny but that was different. That was nothing more than physical. This was the first time feelings had come into play.
Their little dates were fun and freeing. There were no heavy expectations. For all intents and purposes, she was merely a normal teenage girl spending time with a teenage boy who made her laugh.
Ivy didn't want to give that up.
"Ivy, it's hard to believe we've only known each other for like three weeks. Wow," Stiles chuckled, impressed. "But I've had a lot of fun on our dates so we don't have to stop that. We don't really know each other that well but the point of dating is to get to know each other, right? That's what you told me anyway and I'm sticking to it."
The witch couldn't help her smile as she leaned over to kiss his cheek, smile widening at the sputtering from Stiles.
"Smooth Romeo," she snickered, hopping out of the Jeep. "I get it. We have a thing. Don't mess with the thing."
Tumbling out of the Jeep after her, Stiles rolled his eyes as he fell into step with her.
"That's oversimplifying matters."
Humming, she shook her head and glanced around with interest as they walked through the school.
"It's just simple enough."
Moving into the classroom, Ivy took the seat to the left of Stiles, closest to the windows.
Stiles turned towards his other side, striking up a conversation with Scott.
She busied herself pulling out what she needed, an unused notebook and a pen, ignoring the stares she was getting.
A collective buzz went through the classroom and she watched as everyone around her pulled out their cellphones, checking their messages.
"The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds and the tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness," a dark-haired woman read smoothly, sauntering into the room. "This is the last line to the first book we are going to read. It is also the last text you will receive in this class. Phones off, everyone."
From there, the first fifteen minutes of class were easier than she expected.
Ivy sat and worked quietly, practically ignoring everyone until she heard the whispered conversation between Stiles and the strawberry blonde who sat in front of him.
"Hey Lydia."
"What is that? Is that from the accident?"
"No. Prada bit me."
"Your dog?"
"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog."
Ivy had to muffle a snicker at that, lips twitching as she hid her smile.
"Has it ever bitten you before?"
"No."
"Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake? Or something?"
"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"
"Or something. I just-maybe it means something's coming. Something bad."
"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice-"
As if summoned, a bird crashed into the window with a loud thud, leaving a bloody red imprint.
Tensing, Ivy had enough time to duck as dozens of birds attacked the windows. Glass flew as the windows shattered from the impact and screams filled the air as everyone scrambled to hide under the desks.
A whimper came from nearby and Ivy looked over to see a particularly aggressive bird furiously pecking and cawing at a brunette who was curled in on herself, trying to smack it away with one hand.
Grabbing the heavy Chemistry textbook from her bag, Ivy rose to her feet and swung.
Her aim proved true as there was a harsh crunch and the black bird flew across the room, crashing into the wall.
She kicked a desk over to shield the girl before continuing to beat at the birds that were attacking her classmates, Quidditch reflexes in full swing.
It was over in five minutes and the Sheriff was there in another five, having been called there by Stiles.
Standing to the side, Ivy surveyed the mess of blood, feathers, and bird carcasses.
A chill crept down her spine as she realized they were crows, an omen of death in certain circumstances.
At least it wasn't a Grimm made out of tea leaves, she snorted to herself, nudging one of the dead birds with the toe of her boots.
Her eyes drifted to the teacher, who was leaning against her desk.
Mrs. Blake was obviously frightened by the incident. Her body language screamed defensive and afraid, arms locked around herself protectively and shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible.
Ever the caretaker, Stiles was perched on a nearby desk, eyeing her worriedly.
"Mrs. Blake? You okay?" He questioned cautiously and she didn't respond, eyes not even seeing him as she stared forward in a daze. "Sorry, just…that."
He leaned forward to awkwardly pluck a stray feather out of her hair and she flinched violently, eyes snapping to him.
Ivy's chuckle died in her throat as a thick wave of magic, dark and heavy, filled the air.
It made her choke and she stumbled, grasping a desk to steady herself.
Her throat was burning as she coughed hard, despising the slick oily feel of the foreign magic.
It was poisonous, a miasma that no one else could sense.
Ivy blinked blearily as she stumbled over one of the dead crows, the sight making something spark in recognition.
Her brain was slow and uncooperative, seeing the variables but unable to reach the connection.
"Ivy!" Hands caught her and held her up as Stiles rushed over. "What's wrong? What is it?"
Sacrifice, the connection finally clicked sluggishly, the crows were a sacrifice.
"Hallway," she wheezed out, grasping his arm tightly.
"Okay, okay, I can do that."
Ignoring the confused looks and whispers, he dragged her out of the classroom and into the hallway, settling them to lean against the wall.
The oppressive magic faded and Ivy caught her breath, breathing shakily as she slid to the floor.
"Seriously Ivy, you're freaking me out here. What happened?" Stiles crouched down in front of her, worried eyes flicking over her.
"I don't know," she admitted honestly, glancing past him to the English classroom. "I just couldn't breathe. I guess I just needed fresh air."
After that distressing attack, the school was dismissed as a half-day. Stiles gave her a ride back to her apartment, claiming he had to talk to Scott. Ivy didn't press it, distracted by what had happened in the classroom.
There was an itch pressing against the back of her mind.
Her magic reacted to her unease and circled the room, searching for any threats.
Knowing there was only one person she could get answers out of, Ivy settled comfortably cross legged on her bed and closed her eyes, shifting her focus inward.
It was remarkably easy to slip from the physical plane and slide into the spiritual one, where Death resided.
"Oh darling, hello! I was just about to send one of my Reapers to reach out to you," Hel greeted, seated primly on her throne with an opened book in her lap. She waved a hand idly and another throne, this one dark wood with trailing ivy wrapped around it, appeared at her right.
"About what?"
Moving closer, Ivy took the offered seat and leaned back into the surprisingly comfortable chair, crossing one leg over the other neatly.
"Another Druid decided to go to the dark side," the Norse goddess sighed in exasperation, closing her book and turning to face her with a huff. "Lesson time, I think. You know of the Druids in the legends of Arthur and Camelot, correct?"
"Yeah," she nodded, listening attentively. "I don't know much but they're connected to nature and fairly peaceful."
"Correct," the goddess affirmed. "Well, in this world, there are several classes of magic users. Druids are only one of them, the bottom of the totem pole if you will. They claim to uphold the 'Balance' and maintain neutrality in the face of all. Complete baloney, if you ask me, but I digress. There are those Druids who go dark side and become Darach. They pop up every few hundred years or so."
"And there's one in Beacon Hills," Ivy finished, groaning in frustration. "Bloody perfect. I thought I was done with the whole hero shindig. I really don't want to martyr myself again."
Hel threw her a raised eyebrow. "Who said anything about martyring yourself again? I believe once was enough, dear. I don't need a hero."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
The goddess's mouth seemed to hold an impossible number of sharp teeth as she grinned savagely.
"I want you to kill her, of course. You're my Champion, Ivy, and that means the rules don't apply to you. You don't live in a world of black and white, not that it has ever truly been that way. You're Grey, not pure enough for the Light and not corrupted enough for the Dark. Do you disagree?"
Ivy gave a small shake of her head, burying down the twinge of shame that coiled in the pit of her stomach.
Hela was right, even if she didn't want to admit it.
Ivy had never fully fit the role of the Savior, the Chosen One, the one who was expected to lead the Light.
Her magic had been Grey from the very beginning and she didn't live in the same black and white world as most did. She lived in shades of grey, having seen the sheer cruelty and horror humanity was capable of.