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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"Eternal glory, be brilliant wouldn't it?"
Mia looked at Ron like he was insane as she, Harry and Ron walked around the Goblet.
"In three years from now, we'll be old enough to be chosen." Mia snorted.
"Rather you than me," the twins said laughing. Just then, the hall burst into applause. Mia turned around and laughed as she saw Fred and George running in, holding vials in their hands.
"Thank you, thank you," George said as they arrived to the younger twins and their brother, "well lads we've done it."
"Cooked it up just this morning," Fred said as Hermione looked at them with an annoyed look.
"It's not going to work," she said as Mia and Ron exchanged looks.
"Oh yeah?" Fred asked.
"And why's that Granger?" George added as Hermione shut her book.
"You see this?" she asked, pointing at the glowing circle. "This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.
"So?" Fred asked, not seeing the big deal. Hermione sighed in frustration.
"So," she said, "a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by something pathetically dimwitted such as an age potion."
"That's why it's so brilliant," George said grinning
"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted," Fred added as Hermione rolled her eyes while Mia chuckled. The twins stood up on the bench.
"Ready Fred?" George asked as the twins shook their vials.
"Ready George," Fred said as they looked at each other.
"Bottoms up," they said before linking their arms to drink their vials. Mia watched amused as Fred and George looked at each other before they jumped over the line. They put their names into the goblet as everyone held their breath.
For a split second Mia thought it had worked, so did the older twins, but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.
Not even a minute later, the hall fell silent as Viktor Krum walked in with a group of the Durmstrang lot. He walked to the Goblet, put his name in and as he turned away, he and Hermione locked eyes. Mia smirked slightly when she saw the look on the brunettes face. Once Viktor was gone, Hermione looked at Mia and quickly looked away, her cheeks pink.
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"Sit down please."
There was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet.
"And now the moment you've all been waiting for, the champions selection!"
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it. At once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Mia. Mia and Harry exchanged excited grins as they waited.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall.
Mia saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore. He turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
A stunningly beautiful girl, with golden hair, large blue eyes, and a light, airy figure got up and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.
"Disappointed is an understatement," Mia said back as the two girls laughed. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next.
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it. The tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"No! " said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Mia.
The uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real. . . ."
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out. . . .
