Invisible String | TVD x WIZARDING WORLD

HOW BAD COULD IT BE?

"Oh, I like your robes—where did you get them from?" Caroline asked sweetly, peering at Dumbledore like he was an exhibit in a very poorly lit museum.

"Care," I whispered urgently, "please no..."

She turned to me with a wink. "What? I'm making conversation."

"It's okay, Miss Salvatore," Dumbledore chuckled politely. "These are from America, actually, Mrs. Salvatore."

I nearly choked on my own breath.
"I'm sorry, Professor, I—" I began, already preparing to vanish into the floorboards and live among the castle mice forever.

But of course.
Of course. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Why are you sorry, little gremlin?" my dad said loudly, arms folded, voice dripping with that patented Salvatore sarcasm. "He should be the one apologizing. He called upon us when we were deep into our family get-together."

I blinked.
"Dad," I hissed. "No one called you. You literally showed up. Out of nowhere. During breakfast."

"That's the most sacred meal of the day," Caroline added, deadpan. "You're lucky we didn't show up in robes and rollers."

"Okay! That's enough!" I waved my arms like I was fanning smoke away. "Please, for the love of Merlin, sit down. Eat your pastries and stop making eye contact with the paintings."

"Fine," Dad said, smirking as he plopped into the chair right in front of Dumbledore, "But I swear if this pumpkin juice is lukewarm, I'm killing the entire house-elf staff."

"You're not allowed to kill anyone," I hissed.

"Watch me."

Caroline slipped in beside me with a grin and whispered, "Sweetheart, where do they keep the napkins here? Also, do I have glitter on my face?"

"You have war paint," I muttered. "You always have war paint."

"Well, it's a war for fashion," she said airily, sipping from her goblet like she belonged here.

"Okay, so Mr. Salvatore," Dumbledore began gently, lacing his fingers together like he was delivering bedtime news to a dragon, "now I guess you're not quite aware of it, but parents are not allowed to be here on campus, especially muggles. So you and your wife—"

I choked. CHOKED.
Mid-sip. Pumpkin juice everywhere.

"Ew, what? Who the hell would marry this jerk?" Caroline deadpanned, tossing a napkin over the spill on the table like this was brunch, not a federal inquiry.

"Oh sweetheart," Dad smirked, eyes sparkling like he lived to mortify me, "you're forgetting the time. We spent every night together."

"DAD!" I yelped, standing up in my seat. "I do not wanna hear it. Shut up! Literally shut up forever!"

"Okay, luv. As you say." He winked.

Murder. Actual murder. I was going to be the first Hogwarts student imprisoned for filicide.

"I didn't know..." Dumbledore looked utterly frazzled, which was saying something. "You could have corrected me when I said Mrs. Salvatore. I was quite mistaken then—"

"Okay, that's it," I cut in, hands on the table like I was about to launch a formal press release. "She is a Salvatore, sir. Married to Stefan Salvatore—Dad's brother. My uncle. But these two—" I pointed at them like they were suspects in a crime documentary, "they do share a daughter. Me. You're quite aware of the reason."

The table was silent.

I took a deep breath. "Now, if you have any more questions, I suggest you keep them to yourself. Dad," I turned, fixing him with the sharpest glare I could muster, "compel him away. He's a hundred and sixteen years old. Make sure he does forget everything."

Caroline raised a brow. "I don't think we're allowed to compel headmasters, darling."

"Do you want a Hogwarts-wide manhunt or not?" I snapped.

She cracked her neck, standing up slowly, stretching like a cat ready to pounce. "Your wish is my law, princess."

I stood there in Dumbledore's office—aka the most sacred, mysterious room in all of Hogwarts—and watched Care do what she does best.

"You're gonna forget everything my daughter said right now," Care said, her voice low and smooth like velvet laced with threat, "just remember she's a very sweet and brave soul. Just like me."

I groaned. Out loud. Couldn't help it.

Dad let out a soft, unbothered sigh behind me, examining a glass orb on one of the shelves like he was browsing Pottery Barn.

"All you need to remember," Care continued, stepping closer to Dumbledore, "is that you invited us here. Personally. For a very special Christmas feast."

She glanced back at me and added with a wink, "To celebrate your prized, gifted, drop-dead adorable student. The star of Hogwarts. The light of your faculty's dim lives."

I slapped a hand over my face. "Care. No."

She ignored me. Obviously. "Be a good old man and throw a huge party."

Dumbledore blinked. Twice.

Then smiled.

"Oh yes... yes, of course," he said dreamily. "I did invite you. Yes. Brave souls deserve grand feasts..."

I gawked.

"Oh my good lord, you did not compel him to throw me a feast, Care" i was uncontrollably laughing. Laughing like a maniac, or Kol.

"You are—insufferable." I turned to Damon, who was now inspecting a moving portrait of an angry-looking witch.

He shrugged. "She's not technically wrong. You do deserve a feast. I would have done that myself if I weren't very human."

"Okay, both of you, stop." I rubbed my temples like I could massage the trauma out of my skull. "This was supposed to be a normal Hogwarts year. For once."

"Sweetheart, the second you were born to a vampire-werewolf-witch trio and raised by two emotionally chaotic immortals," Caroline said sweetly, "you gave up normal."

"She's right, little gremlin," Dad said, now spinning Dumbledore's armchair. "So you may as well enjoy the drama."

I turned back to Dumbledore, who was humming something suspiciously festive to himself, tapping a finger on his desk like he was planning centerpieces.

"You actually erased his memory," I whispered.

Carw threw an arm over my shoulder. "Nah, just nudged it a little. Like a magical Post-It note over the truth."

"That is not reassuring."

"Better get a nice dress ready," dad said, completely ignoring the fact that he was the problem. "It's your party now."

Caroline smiled. "Hope they have mistletoe."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "Planning something?"

"I always am."

I closed my eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled.

"I am the daughter of THE Damon Salvatore and Caroline Forbes-Salvatore," I muttered. "And I accept my fate."

a/n: hey guys, it'd be really helpful if you lemme know your reading prefrences, if u like to dive straight into major moments, or would you like to get into characters stupid silly and daily life too (this is what i prefer and i write, but i could change it if you want me to)

ly