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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"He must have sent them," said Harry quietly, more to his sister than to Uncle Vernon.
"What's that? Who must have sent them?"
"Lord Voldemort," said Harry as Mia flinched and her hands began to shake. The Dursleys, who flinched, winced and squawked if they heard words like 'wizard', 'magic' or 'wand', could hear the name of the most evil wizard of all time without the slightest tremor.
"Lord, hang on," said Uncle Vernon, his face screwed up, a look of dawning comprehension coming into his piggy eyes. "I've heard that name. . . . that was the one who. . . ."
"Murdered our parents, yes," Harry said dully.
"But he's gone," said Uncle Vernon impatiently, without the slightest sign that the murder of Mia and Harry's parents might be a painful topic. "That giant bloke said so. He's gone."
"He's back," said Mia.
It felt very strange to be standing here in Aunt Petunia's surgically clean kitchen, beside the top-of-the-range fridge and the wide-screen television, talking calmly of Lord Voldemort to Uncle Vernon. The arrival of the dementors in Little Whinging seemed to have breached the great, invisible wall that divided the relentlessly non-magical world of Privet Drive and the world beyond. Mia and Harry's two lives had somehow become fused and everything had been turned upside-down. The Dursleys were asking for details about the magical world, and Mrs. Figg knew Albus Dumbledore, dementors were soaring around Little Whinging, and she might never return to Hogwarts.
"Back?" whispered Aunt Petunia.
She was looking at Mia and Harry as she had never looked at them before. And all of a sudden, for the very first time in her life, Mia fully appreciated that Aunt Petunia was her mother's sister. She could not have said why this hit her so very powerfully at this moment. All she knew was that excluding Mia and Harry, she was not the only person in the room who had an inkling of what Lord Voldemort being back might mean.
Aunt Petunia had never in her life looked at the twins like that before. Her large, pale eyes (so unlike her sisters) were not narrowed in dislike or anger, they were wide and fearful. The furious pretence that Aunt Petunia had maintained all Mia and Harry's life, that there was no magic and no world other than the world she inhabited with Uncle Vernon, seemed to have fallen away.
"He's back," Mia said, talking directly to Aunt Petunia now. "About a month ago. I saw him. He killed my, my f-friend."
Her hands found Dudley's massive leather-clad shoulders and clutched them.
"Hang on," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again, apparently dazed and confused by the unprecedented understanding that seemed to have sprung up between them. "Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say."
