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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"Blimey Dad, how far up are we?"
Mia let out a chuckle as she walked next to Ron. The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. The party of eight kept climbing until they heard an all too familair voice.
"Well put it this way. . . ."
They all looked over the banister and saw Lucius Malfoy with his son, Draco. He looked at Mia and smirked as the ginger girl rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't lie, he had grown more attractive over the summer. He looked latter, more broader and his hair had grown slightly as it hung over his cold blue eyes.
"If it rains, you'll be the first to know."
"Father and I are in the minister's box," Draco said as Mia raised an eyebrow, "by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself."
"Big fucking deal," Mia said, rolling her eyes and resting her hands on the banister as Draco scoffed.
"Don't boast, Draco," Mr. Malfoy said, jabbing his son in the stomach with his cane. Mia furrowed her eyebrows slightly when she saw the look on Draco's face. "There's no need with these people." Mr. Malfoy's eyes looked to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Mia knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that.
"These people?" Mia asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll show you these people."
"Mia, it's not worth it," Harry mumbled as Mia nodded. The ginger girl went to turn around when she went let out a hiss. She looked down and saw Mr. Malfoy's cane latching onto her pale hand.
"Do enjoy yourself won't you," he said as Mia raised an eyebrow. "While you can."
"Get that thing off me before I shove that cane so far up your as. . . ."
"Mia," Mr. Weasley said as Draco looked away, a smirk growing on his face as the ginger girl turned to Mr. Malfoy.
"Get. Off," she said, her eyes glowing red as Mr. Malfoy removed the cane.
Mia looked down at her hand and saw a small trickle of blood. She wiped her hand and followed the others. She glanced back at Draco and saw he was already looking at her. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly before she followed the others to the very top of the stadium.
"Come on up, take your seats," Mr. Wesley called as they made their way to the very top of the stadium. "I told you these seats would be worth waiting for."
Mia looked over the banister and beamed. The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket.
"Come on!" George yelled.
"It's the Irish!"
Mia looked up and her eyes went wide as great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Seven green blurs swept onto the field as Mia cheered loudly.
"Here come the Bulgarians!" George yelled as seven scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.
"Krum, Krum, Krum'!" the crowd screamed as Ron began slapping Mia on the arm, bouncing up and down like a child.
"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, pointing as Mia laughed. Looking on the large screen, Mia saw Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.
Ludo Bagman whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen. . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
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"There's no one like Krum!"
The match was over, Ireland won 160-150 and Ron was standing on the table, telling everyone in the tent about Krum.
"He's like a bird the way he rides the wind," he went on as Mia and Harry exchanged amused looks. "He's more than an athlete, he's an artist."
"Krum!" Fred bumbled around as Mia laughed.
"Dumb Krum!" George added as the two flapped their arms like giant bird.
"Think you're in love Ron?" Ginny teased as she and Mia laughed. Nobody noticed the concerned look on Mr. Weasley's face as he walked outside.
"Viktor I love you!" Fred sang, taking his brother's hand.
"Viktor I do!" George added, taking Ron's other hand.
"When we're apart my heart beats only for youuu!!" The two sets of twins sang together before they all burst out laughing. Outside, they heard a loud commotion and they all stopped singing and stood up.
"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," Fred said as Mr. Weasley ran back in while Ron and George were play fighting.
"Stop! Stop it," he yelled worried, "It's not the Irish. We've gotta get out of here. Now."
Dimly, Mia could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. She could hear screams, and the sound of people running. Mia and Harry exchanged looks as they followed the others and ran out of the tent.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.
A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Mia squinted at them. They didn't seem to have faces, then she realised that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small. She out a hand over her mouth as she stared at them in horror.
"Get back to the portkey everybody, and stick together!" Mr. Weasley yelled to them, "Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility."
More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Mia saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder. Mia was staring at them in horror, she didn't noticed the others had gone.
"MIA!"
The blue eyed girl turned around, hearing her brother's voice but her heart dropped into her stomach when she couldn't see him.
"Fuck," she said, feeling her breathing getting uneven.
She looked around before making her way to the forest, hoping she'd run into the others. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. Mia felt herself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces she could not see.
