Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

I'M PROUD OF YOU?

"Hey, you'll realize Anastasia wasn't that bad after all. She was just trying to impress her mom."
Hermione frowned, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "Are you serious? She locked Cinderella in a room and treated her horribly. That's not 'trying to impress her mom,' that's mean."
I shrugged, letting my fingers brush over the edge of the couch. "She was a product of her environment. People do stupid things when they feel unseen. She wasn't evil, just misguided."
Hermione crossed her arms, her lips pursed. "She chose to be cruel. No excuse for that."
I grinned, fully enjoying this little debate. "But she changed, Hermione. Redemption arc. She just needed a little magic, that's all."
Before Hermione could fire back with another response, I heard a voice I knew all too well.
"Diana."
I didn't need to turn around to know it was Draco. His tone was unmistakable—smooth, almost casual, but I could tell there was something more to it, a quiet pride maybe.
I sighed, rolling my eyes, but I couldn't hide the little flare of irritation rising inside me. I glanced at Hermione, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, clearly knowing I wasn't exactly in the mood for a conversation with him.
I slowly turned to face Draco, finding him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he was trying to make himself comfortable in the least comfortable way possible. There was that trademark Malfoy arrogance, but something softer too. Something that almost felt like... hope?
"You did well in there," he said, his voice steady, and despite myself, I couldn't help but notice how he looked at me—not with the usual superiority, but with something that almost felt like respect.
"Thanks, but I didn't ask for your opinion," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. The bitterness I felt toward him, toward everything his name stood for, made the words feel a little too sharp. I crossed my arms defensively, trying to block out the odd twist in my chest.
Draco didn't flinch. He just looked at me like he had all the time in the world, waiting for me to let my guard down. "You don't need to ask for it. I'm just proud of you. That's all."
I felt my jaw clench, my heart pounding in my ears. "I don't need you to be proud of me," I snapped, but even as I said it, I wondered why it didn't feel entirely true.
Draco's smile never faltered. If anything, it softened. "Doesn't matter if you need it or not. I'm still proud of you, Diana. Always will be."
I was frozen for a second, caught in that strange space between anger and something else. I wanted to tell him to leave, to go away, but my mouth felt dry.
Finally, I broke the silence with the only words that made sense. "Don't expect me to forgive you just because you're my brother."
Draco's expression didn't change. He just nodded, like he understood exactly what I was saying. "I'm not expecting anything, Diana. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Always."
Hermione slipped back beside me the moment Draco disappeared around the corner, her eyes wide, lips already forming the question.
"What's wrong with him—and you?" she asked, half-whispering, half-demanding. "He's your brother?"
I sighed and sank deeper into the couch, dragging a hand down my face. "Long story short? The Malfoys abandoned me when I was three days old. Lucius thought I was a Squib."
Hermione blinked at me, stunned into silence for a whole three seconds—which, for her, is saying something. Then she leaned forward, eyes blazing. "What the hell?"
"Yaa, exactly," I muttered, shrugging like it was some casual family drama and not... well, that. "So yeah, I just kind of hate these Malfoy people. All of them. Every single one."
Hermione didn't say anything at first, just stared at me like she was still processing it all. And honestly? I was too.
Hermione was still staring, completely stunned. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, then shut again. Twice.
Finally, she leaned back and said, "That's... horrible, Diana. Like genuinely horrible. You were a baby."
"Three days old," I said again, my tone dry, bitter. "Not even a full week of being a disappointment."
Hermione flinched. "Don't say that. You're not—"
"I know," I cut in, maybe too sharply. "I know I'm not. But that's what they thought. Lucius took one look at me and didn't feel the magic. So he tossed me aside like a broken wand."
There was a pause. Not an awkward one, just the kind where everything feels heavy for a second.
I looked over at her, then added more quietly, "Damon found me. He raised me. If it weren't for him, I probably would've grown up in some cold Ministry ward or Merlin knows where else."
Hermione reached out and rested a hand lightly on my knee. "I'm really glad he found you."
"Me too," I said, and for a second, I almost smiled.
Hermione hesitated before asking, "And Draco? He knew all this time?"
I gave a slow nod. "Apparently. He says he's always wanted to find me. That he hated what Lucius did. That he—" I stopped myself, my throat tightening. "—that he missed me even though he never knew me."
Hermione blinked. "That's... actually really sad."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't you start feeling sorry for him. That's how they get you."
She snorted. "I'm just saying, he seemed—well, not like a total git. Not today, anyway."
"That's what's so annoying," I muttered. "He's trying. Being soft. Being nice. Saying he's proud of me. And it's messing with my head."
Hermione smiled faintly. "You don't hate him as much as you want to, do you?"
I scowled at her. "No comment."
She laughed, and for a moment, the weight of everything lifted just enough for me to breathe. But deep down, I knew the war inside me wasn't done—not even close. Draco Malfoy was trying to be my brother. And I had no idea what to do with that.