Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

DIARY OF A LITTLE HURRICANE

Caroline flopped down onto the park bench beside Klaus, brushing a stray leaf off her skirt. The park was alive with color — golden sunlight spilled through the canopy of tall oak trees, kids raced along the gravel paths, and a warm breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

"You look way too serious for a day this pretty," she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. "What's on your mind?"

Klaus let out a low chuckle, his eyes following a pair of ducks waddling toward the pond. "I was just thinking... remember when she was five? Technically, I may have... borrowed her to get my coffins back."

Caroline snorted. "Borrowed? Really? You're still gonna sugarcoat kidnapping, Klaus?"

He laughed, the sound easy and unguarded. "In my defense, love, I can't be the villain all the time."

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. "You're Klaus Mikaelson. Being the villain is kinda your brand."

"Fair enough," he said, smiling. "But for what it's worth... she wasn't scared of me. No fear. Not even a flinch. That was... new."

Caroline tilted her head, her expression softening. "Well, some of us know there's a heart buried under all that bad-boy drama."

He flashed her a boyish smirk. "You and Diana — always exceptions to the rule."

Before them was Diana — full of life, her golden hair catching the sunlight as she sat cross-legged on the grass, playing with her dolls and a fleet of tiny race cars. In her world, princesses drove getaway cars and dragons wore tiaras., and every story ended with a wild race across imaginary kingdoms. Diana Isobel Salvatore — just like her father — wasn't the type of person you wanted to underestimate.

Diana Isobel Salvatore — despite having no magic in a town bursting with it — had made herself utterly unforgettable.

She was Damon's daughter by choice, and in stubbornness, she might as well have been part Mikaelson.
Small, human, eight — and absolutely impossible to say no to.

Her track record for mischief was legendary, even among vampires who had lived for centuries.

Once, after a "Health Awareness Week" seminar at school, Diana had marched straight into the Salvatore Boarding House, marched straight into Damon's wine cellar — and promptly set it on fire.

Not a small fire.

A full, smoky, alarm-blaring inferno.

The sprinklers went off. Alarms wailed.
Damon sprinted down half-dressed, thinking it was a vampire attack — only to find Diana, covered in soot, clutching a water hose almost as big as herself, tears pouring down her face as she sobbed:
"Dada, drinking is BAD! You'll kill yourself before anyone else does!"

Stefan, dragging himself downstairs with his hair plastered to his forehead, took one look at the scene and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
In fact, he joined Diana, pointing an accusing finger at Damon while trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.
Together, they gave Damon the most dramatic, heartfelt intervention Mystic Falls had ever seen.

Damon, dripping wet, surrounded by broken wine bottles and smelling like burnt oak barrels, could only gape at the tiny tornado that had decided to save his life — by almost burning down the house.

Another time — known to all survivors as The Great Glitter Debacle — Diana decided Damon's beloved Chevy Camaro was "too boring and sad."
Armed with an industrial-sized bag of pink and green glitter, neon star stickers, and "Best Dad Ever" decals, she set to work — with far too much enthusiastic assistance from Jeremy Gilbert.

By the time Damon stumbled outside, his car looked like it had been swallowed by a unicorn and regurgitated with feelings.

He still found glitter in the ventilation system months later.

Every time he drove somewhere important — a council meeting, a funeral, a battle — there would inevitably be a stray neon star twinkling proudly on the dashboard.
Damon never missed an opportunity to mock-glare at Diana and mutter, "This is sabotage. You're a public menace, Gremlin."

Diana only smiled her innocent, gap-toothed smile and declared, "You're welcome, Dada!"

And then there was the time she decided Mystic Falls Animal Shelter needed her help.
Without telling anyone, Diana "liberated" six puppies, two kittens, and a very angry parrot named Captain Blood — marching them triumphantly into the Salvatore living room as if she was leading a parade.

Damon spent hours chasing puppies through the house.
Stefan ended up with a kitten glued to his hair.
And Captain Blood immediately made it his mission to terrorize Damon at every opportunity, shrieking French insults Damon didn't understand.

("I'm fairly certain he just called me a donkey," Damon muttered once, as the parrot laughed wickedly.)

But for all her fiery spirit, Diana had her fragile moments too.

One night, after a petty fight about bedtime — something silly, something that shouldn't have mattered — Diana had packed a little pink backpack with a candy bar, a crumpled letter ("Dear Dada. I'm running away. Don't be sad. Love, Diana"), Mr. Wiggles the stuffed dog, and exactly $4.73 in coins she had stolen from Stefan's drawer.

And then she disappeared.

No one knew where she went.

Until Klaus Mikaelson opened his door at midnight to find a tiny, rain-soaked, furious eleven-year-old glaring up at him.

"Uncle Monster," she sniffled, trying to sound braver than she felt. "I'm moving in. At least you love me."

Klaus, ancient Original Hybrid, scourge of continents, killer of kings — stood there in stunned silence.

She didn't flinch.
Didn't cry.
Just... waited.

And Klaus — who had lived a thousand years believing he was unworthy of love — stepped aside without a word and let her in.
He made her hot chocolate, with exactly three marshmallows (because Caroline had once mentioned that's how Diana liked it).
He lit a fire in the hearth.
And he let her curl up on the couch with a blanket and Mr. Wiggles until her hiccupping sobs faded into exhausted sleep.

At 2 a.m., Klaus texted Damon exactly three words:
"She's with me."

Backup arrived thirty minutes later: Damon (panicking but hiding it badly), Stefan (grinning like an idiot), Caroline (armed with dry clothes), and even Kol and Rebekah (mostly because they were nosy).

Klaus didn't say anything when Damon scooped her up, whispering promises against her hair.
He just stood there, arms folded, daring anyone to make a joke about it.

"If you break her heart again, Salvatore," Klaus said under his breath, "I will tear you apart."

From that night forward, something changed.

Diana, without meaning to, did the impossible.

She forged a family — stitched together from old enemies, broken promises, and bruised hearts.

They still fought, of course.
Damon and Kol couldn't spend five minutes together without nearly punching each other.
Caroline and Rebekah argued over party decorations and birthday plans like their lives depended on it.
Klaus still occasionally threatened Stefan's life when he thought no one was looking.

But around Diana?

They were different.

Better.

A little softer. A little kinder. A little more willing to sit at the same table, if only to hear her laugh.

"She's trouble," Caroline said softly, sinking onto the park bench beside him, brushing leaves off her jeans.

Klaus tilted his head slightly, a rare, genuine smile curling his lips. "She's a Salvatore," he agreed. "And a Mikaelson, at least by stubbornness."