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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The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news.
"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."
"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.
"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances. . . ."
There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.
"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Mia furiously. "He's faking it!"
"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory. . . ."
Angelina, Mia and Katie suddenly giggled.
"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behavior.
"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Angelina.
"Strong and silent," said Katie, and they started to giggle again.
"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Mia caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"
"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"
"Oliver, calm down!" said Fred, looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously."
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The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.
"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows.
Mia had no room in her head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to her between classes and giving her tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Mia suddenly realized she was ten minutes late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after her, "Diggory's got a very fast swerve, Mia, so you might want to try looping him. . . ."
