Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

NO MORE SOLO MISSIONS

"Hey," I turned back to look at Dad, standing in the doorway to my room.
"Hi, Dad." I smiled, soft but knowing. I knew exactly why he was here. He wasn't going to say it, of course—God forbid Damon Salvatore actually express feelings like a normal human—but yeah. He was proud. Bursting, even.
"You do realize that I could have lost you again, right?" he said, voice low and sharper than usual.
I smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, then you should be glad you didn't."
But...he didn't laugh.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't give me any sarcastic Dad Energy.
Nope. Just stared at me, eyes like thunderclouds, jaw tight like he was biting back words with teeth.
"Dad," I sighed, "I knew what I was doing."
"No, you didn't," he snapped, stepping into the room now. His voice wasn't loud, but it hit—that cold, serious Damon tone he used when someone was this close to death and this close to pissing him off. "You didn't know what would happen. You just decided to risk your life again like it was no big deal. Like it was a hobby."
"I had to," I argued, standing up now, because sitting down while being scolded like a five-year-old was not the vibe. "They were stuck, Dad. Forgotten. Suffering. And no one else could feel it. You can't ask me to just sit around and not help the people I love."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not asking you to stop caring. I'm asking you to share your worries, your feelings and all of that witchy woo thing you keep doing. It's not your job to save the whole damn world, Diana."
"I am glad, Di," he said. "But damn it, you should've told me. Told someone. You didn't have to go through all of it alone."
I swallowed hard. "I couldn't tell you," I said quietly, looking down at the wax-dripped floor. "Any of you. I didn't want to raise your hopes."
He frowned, stepping fully into the room now. "Raise our hopes?"
I looked up, eyes stinging, but my voice held steady. "Dad... we've all lost so much. If I told you I was trying to bring them back and failed? That would've broken you all over again. And if I succeeded—well, surprise, I did—it was better that way. No pressure. No expectations. No watching me maybe-die again. Just... me, taking the risk for once."
"You think I wouldn't want to help you because I might get hurt?" he asked, voice rough. "Diana. You're my kid. You don't protect me from this kind of stuff. You tell me."
I let out a slow breath, biting my lip. "I didn't want to see that look on your face. The one you're wearing right now. Like you lost me already."
He stepped closer. His expression softened. "But I didn't. That's the difference. And you—you brought Stefan back. Stefan, Di. And Enzo. Hell, even Lexi."
"Yeah," I exhaled. "They're back."
He shook his head, awe flickering across his face. "I don't know how the hell you pulled that off. I barely passed high school. You're bringing people back from the dead."
"I mean," I smirked, "Hogwarts might want to take me as an honorary professor or something."
His laugh came out more like a breath. "Elena always said you were unstoppable when you made your mind up."
"She's right," I said, then added with a tilt of my head, "You're proud."
He didn't deny it. Just looked at me, eyes shining.
"Yeah. I'm proud," he said. "But next time, Diana—no solo missions. You tell me. Even if it hurts. Even if there's no guarantee. Because I can't go through losing you again."
My voice was barely above a whisper. "You won't."
"You better not make a liar out of me," he muttered, pulling me into the kind of hug that melts your bones.
I hugged him back, arms tight around him. "No promises, but... I'll try."
He kissed the top of my head. "You're a Salvatore. Try counts."
We stood like that for a while—me, still a little charged with magic and candle wax, him, still trying not to cry. But for once, everything didn't feel so heavy.
The dead were back. The living were whole. And for one rare moment... everything was exactly where it needed to be.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, the leftover magic buzzing lightly under my skin like a secret only I knew. Dad stayed standing for a second, like he wasn't sure if he should leave or sit or pace a hole in the floor.
"Sit, Dad," I said, patting the bed beside me.
He sighed, the weight of a thousand lifetimes in his breath, and sat down slowly. We didn't speak right away. The silence wasn't awkward though—it was the kind that settles in after a storm, quiet and safe.
"I've been thinking," he said after a while, "about how weird it is to be human again."
I glanced sideways at him. "Weird good or weird bad?"
He shrugged. "Both. I mean, I like the whole... not-feeding-on-people part. But now I cry at cereal commercials. It's ridiculous."
That made me laugh, just a little. "You always cried at those. You just used to blame it on allergies."
His eyes crinkled at the edges, the kind of smile that doesn't reach the lips but still means everything. "Fair."
A pause. Another one of those soft, breathable silences.
"You know what really scares me?" he said suddenly.
I turned toward him, heart skipping just a bit. "What?"
"That I'm gonna waste this second chance. That after everything, I won't know what to do with it."
I reached out, resting my hand over his. "You won't waste it. You've got us. You've got Elena. You've got me."
He squeezed my hand, gently. "You've always been the best thing I ever did. You know that?"
My throat closed up, but I nodded. "Yeah. I know. And for what it's worth? You didn't mess up this time."
He smiled, full this time, the kind of smile that makes you believe things really will be okay.
"I love you, Di."
"I love you more," I said automatically.
He arched an eyebrow. "We're not starting that war again, are we?"
I grinned, leaning my head on his shoulder. "We never stopped."
And just like that, the chaos, the magic, the pain of the past few months melted into something softer. Not gone, not forgotten—but manageable. Because at the end of the day, it was just us. A father and his daughter. Two people who'd lost everything and somehow still found their way back.
Together.