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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"Come along, Potter," she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along, hospital wing. . . ."
"No," said Dumbledore sharply.
"Dumbledore, she ought to, look at her. She's been through enough tonight. . . ."
"She will stay, Minerva, because she needs to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. She needs to know who has put her through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."
"That's not Professor Moody, is it?" Mia asked in a quiet voice.
"No, this is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew, and I followed."
Dumbledore waved his wand and the fake Moody was thrown back into the chair and was tied up so he couldn't escape. Dumbledore put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch sat with somebody. Take the dog to the Hospital Wing and then bring the man to my office. Tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."
If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books.
Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished. This time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Mia watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Mia let out a cry of amazement.
He was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Mia stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.
"We shall get him out soon," Dumbledore said as he waved his wand and a large, thick blanket floated down towards the real Moody and covered him in it. They turned back to the fake Moody who was coughing and choking.
