Mia Potter was the other Potter. Looking almost identical to her mother, she was a force to be reckoned with. But there was only one person who could reckon with her, and his name was Draco Malfoy.
In which the youngest Potter twin finds herself fa...
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Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm.
"I fucking said that as well," Mia groaned.
"I can mend bones in a second, but growing them back. . . ."
"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately as he looked at his sister.
"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly as Mia groaned. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro. "You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beaker full and handing it to her. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."
"Fantastic," Mia said sarcastically.
Mia took the beaker full of Skele-Gro and downed it in one. It burned her mouth and throat as it went down, making her cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to help Mia gulp down some water.
The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Mia.
"Unbelievable flying, Mia," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."
They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Mia's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This girl needs rest, she's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"
And Mia was left alone, with nothing to distract her from the stabbing pains in her limp arm.
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Hours and hours later, Mia woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. Her arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, she thought that was what had woken her. Then, with a thrill of horror, she realized that someone was sponging her forehead in the dark.
"What the fuck?" she called and then she said, "Dobby!"
The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Mia through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.
"Euphemia and Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Euphemia and Harry Potter. Ah ma'am, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Euphemia and Harry Potter go back home when they missed the train?"
Mia heaved herself up on her pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.
"It was you," she said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"
