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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There was a split second, perhaps, when Mia might have considered running for it, but the Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around her and Voldemort so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled. Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric's body lay and returned with Mia's wand, which she thrust roughly into Mia's hand without looking at her. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.
"You have been taught how to duel Euphemia Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.
Mia said nothing as she stared at him.
"We bow to each other Euphemia," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Mia. "Come, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Bow to death, Euphemia."
The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Mia did not bow. She was not going to let Voldemort play with her before killing her, she was not going to give her that satisfaction.
"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand, and Mia felt her spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending her ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.
"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Mia lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man, well a woman in your case. Straight-backed and proud, the way your father died. . . ."
Mia clenched her jaw as she stared at Voldemort.
"And now, we duel."
Voldemort raised his wand, and before Mia could do anything to defend herself, before she could even move, she had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that she no longer knew where she was. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of her skin, her head was surely going to burst with pain, she was screaming more loudly than she'd ever screamed in her life.
And then it stopped.
Mia rolled over and scrambled to her feet. She was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off. She staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed her away, back toward Voldemort.
"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause. That hurt, didn't it Euphemia? You don't want me to do that again, do you?" Mia didn't answer. "I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"
And Mia felt the sensation that her mind had been wiped of all thought. Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though she were floating, dreaming. . . . just answer no. . . say no. . . . just answer no. . . .
