Disclaimer: I disclaim. My goodness, I should've placed this in the author's note. Does anyone ever read disclaimers, or are these just for all those legal churvaness? The latter? Of course the latter.

Probably you: Just get on with the damned story, Author!

*raises hands up* I do not own Harry Potter. The characters are fictional. Their thoughts are not personally mine, since they are their own persona. We agree on that? Yes? Good.

Chapter One: Why Weasleys {and Lupins} are Crazy

"YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE MATRIMONY OF VICTOIRE GABRIELLE WEASLEY AND THEODORE REMUS LUPIN ON THE 23RD OF JULY THIS SAME YEAR. IT WILL TAKE PLACE IN SUNNY VILLE BEACH AND RECEPTION WILL TAKE PLACE IN SUNNY VILLE HOTEL COTTAGES. YOUR PRESENCE IS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED."

Poof!

Who in their bloody fucking mind would create WEDDING INVITATIONS by using HOWLERS? Tell me, who? Of course, the one and only, most favorable metamorphagus of all time, Teddy Lupin. And, let me guess, the blue butterflies that came out of the white envelope was Victoire's idea, plus the letter curling into a rose-like appearance after bursting into flames was hers too.

Brill-fucking-iant.

Right. Sorry for being such a cussing machine this early in the morning. It's just—mornings and I don't do well together. We're enemies since birth.

Add in the Weasleys and their manic ideas of howler-invitations that are not funny at all if opened in the breakfast table where no person is a morning person. I'm sure no one wants to know, unless you're one of those newspaper-crazed stalkers, but no one in my family is a morning person. Not a single soul. So, most definitely, while the howler was—err—howling its message out, my father was roaring stream of curses to get the bloody howler-invitation to shut up, my mother has her eyes squeezed and her hands pressed to both of her ears, and Scorpius, my twin brother, and I were crouched down under the table with our arms over our ears.

It was a bedlam—an unusual Malfoy morning. (If you don't know what a bedlam is, mate, open up a dictionary. Or search it in your Goggle. It's helpful.)

Malfoy mornings are quiet and peaceful—brisk and crisp and not noisy. We would eat breakfast together, as we usually do, and mid-way mail would be let in for us to read.

Today, unfortunately, my dad opened the wedding invitation which caused the ruckus. It may not top the Weasley-Potter clan ruckus, but nevertheless a ruckus. Because, admit it, Malfoys handle ruckus with poise, elegance, and snide. But definitely not during mornings. It was during mornings we are composing ourselves to be in whatever mood we are in for the rest of the day.

Oh, right! I forgot to introduce myself. How rude.

Well then, hello stranger who is creepily reading about a wedding in my point of view. My name is Hailey Malfoy. I am the only daughter of Draco and Astoria Malfoy, with Scorpius Malfoy as my only brother.

If you have a problem with me narrating this story, get the hell out. Excuse you, but you're not needed.

As for you who's rattling in his/her pathetic stranger mind about how Malfoys are evil little ferrets who have no good better to do with life—excuse you too. 'People change'. My father, if not my grandfather, is capable of changing. He's cunning, sly, and ambitious. He's a Slytherin.

I'm not going to give a damned excuse about how he's just a boy when he was tasked to kill Dumbledore. I'm not even going to excuse his actions of the phrase 'he didn't have a choice', because he did. People always have a choice, except my father made the wrong one. He admitted it, and now he's trying to mend things. He may not be able to take back the innocent lives that his poor and stupid choice has done, but he's trying. He's not a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, so he doesn't have that noble tendency.

In short, my father—or rather, my family was in the wrong but we're trying to change that now. Yes, Malfoys have hearts. Maybe a lot for themselves, and for their family, but we care for others. A little bit, if I'm going to be honest.

Do you want me to slap it to your face or do you understand it now? You understand? Good. Because if you're going to be all judgmental about my family, then please get out while I'm still in my niceties. Once I'm out, I doubt you'll ever survive alive, even if you're reading this shit off your daggets. Gagedts. Whatever!

Now, where were we? Ahh yes, the howler-invitation from hell.

Prior to the release of the invitation, Scorpius and I already know there's going to be a wedding. Albus Potter (the Boy-Who-Lived's son) and Rose Weasley (Hermione and Ron Weasley's daughter) are our close friends, and they were able to tell us about the upcoming wedding between a Metamorphagus-werewolf and part veela-werewolf girl. I don't mean it to insult. Quite the contrary, I find it amusing that they have common ground (a unique one, at that). And, honestly speaking, Victoire and Teddy look cute together. All mushiness and romanticism aside.

Again, don't be survived with us being friends with Weasleys and Potters. It's the twenty-first century, mate. Grow up.

Although, I expected the invitation to be fancy, since Victoire is half-French after all, and a Veela too, but I guess that's the blue butterflies and rose thing-y. I'm surprised she even agreed with the howler idea. That was one crazy family, I tell you.

"What was that?" Father gasped out, holding his head to the side and drinking a tall glass of water. I shivered and cringed at my ear, certain that I'm about to go deaf.

Scorpius emerged from under the table and was picking at his ear with a small scowl. "I think my eardrums popped out."

"It's a wedding invitation. Apparently, Theodore Lupin and Victoire Weasley are about to get married." Mother recited, as if she hasn't been frazzled at all, even if her hair is a little bit stringy at the moment.

"If I knew this would happen, I shouldn't have asked for an invitation." I muttered, sitting properly on my chair.

"Theodore Lupin? Isn't he my… nephew or something?" Father frowned in thought. Scorpius and I nodded simultaneously.

"It's the wedding we mentioned we were invited back at the Platform. Don't you remember?"

Father slowly nodded as he chewed on his toast. "I think I do."

"Do you also remember that you told us we can go with the Potters on the way there?" I casually added, my eyes flickering to my father for a bit.

"I agreed to that?"

"Yes." Scorpius and I chorused, glancing at each other.

"Are we going to the wedding, then?" Mother asked tentatively, watching Father's reaction carefully. Father briskly nodded. "We should. It's common courtesy to do. After all, they sent us the invitation."

I hid my triumphant grin and looked at Scorpius, who was also grinning at me.

"Hailey, Scorpius," Father's voice called our attention. "You two go there first. We're going to follow. There are just things I have to take care of before leaving."

We nodded.

"Are the Potters the only people you're going with?"

"Yes. Uncle Ron's family are already there. As well as the bride's and groom's. The other families are just going to follow."

"Very well. I'll tell Dinky to pack your things." Mother added. Father wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. "I have to go. You two be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Father." Scorpius answered, I was about to burst laughing so I just nodded, biting my cheeks in. Best behavior? Oh, come on. I'm always on my best behavior.

You don't believe me? Good.

My brother, in all his pointed nose and pale face glory, is very good looking. Okay, fine, I'm over exaggerating it. He may not be the drop-your-panty and melt-you-down hot, but my brother's not really zero in the looks department.

For Merlin's sake, we came from the Black line. Has anyone ever told you how perfectly good looking Blacks are? Malfoys are not half bad either, and just so you know, neither are Greengrasses.

Why am I talking about my brother again?

Alright fine, let's keep this thing rolling.

After pulling my hair in a half-up half-down way and using a red silk ribbon to tie it, I slipped in my black doll shoes and black dress with single straps and the end reaching my knees. My mother's family owns the GG Fashion, a boutique originally established in France. It's a Wizarding boutique, and recently they just opened a branch in Diagon Alley. It just means that all the clothes I have are either dresses or skirts. If I want to wear jeans, I have to borrow it from Rose.

"Are you going to an airport or are you attending a funeral?" Scorpius commented, making me roll my eyes. "You don't see me teasing you about wearing walking shorts and checkered polo shirt, are you?"

To girls out there who thinks it probably looks good at him, no gals just… no. He looks like an awkward teenage wizard in Muggle clothes, which he probably is.

"We're flooing to Grimmauld Place, aren't we?"

"Yes."

Good thing I didn't wear anything white then. Have you tried flooing while wearing white? It's like performing a color changing charm from white to soot black. It's an amazing experience. (Sarcasm intended).

"We better go."

A little word before we meet the Potter family.

Well, you know the head—Mr. Harry Potter. The Boy who Lived; the Chosen One; the Chosen Boy who Conquered the Dark Lord; The One who Won; The Dark Lord Vanquisher; Witch Weekly's most handsome and eligible bachelor from 1999-2003; and lastly, One of the most successful Aurors of the Century. After all this titles, you would think Uncle Harry is this very regal man all about formalities and what-not.

Honey, don't stereotype. As famous as Uncle Harry may be, he's avery clumsy person. War made him tough, but he's very fatherly. He's like a putty when it comes to Lily and Aunt Ginny.

Mrs. Ginny Potter nee Weasley—the Chosen One's Chosen One; the Girl who became a Woman; 1/3 of the Silver Trio. She's vicious but gentle, sly but kind. Mate, she's the sister of the legendary Weasley twins. I think that's a title in itself.

There's Lily, also known as the mini Ginny. But like her father, sometimes she has her moments. Albus, the second child, is the mini Harry. They're the same and different in all ways. He's in Slytherin (surprise!) but he doesn't let that define him. Last and also the least, James Sirius. One of a kind pain in the arse; He's the only one who can actually summon my Ice Queen attitude from anger. It's his natural stupid talent.

Within the first five minutes of meeting each other back in first year, we managed to be covered in various food and hexes.

You see, the Potter children really have different attitudes and characteristics. You'll never think of the other like the other.

I guess that applies to every one of us.

None of our past, nor what our families have done, defines who we are today, and who will we be tomorrow.

So… what do you think?