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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Weeks passed and eventually, they found a place to practice. At half past seven that evening, Mia, Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, Mia clutching a certain piece of aged parchment in his hand. Fifth-years were allowed to be out in the corridors until nine o'clock, but all three of them kept looking around nervously as they made their way along the seventh floor.
"Hold it," Mia warned, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with her wand and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
A map of Hogwarts appeared on the blank surface of the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, labelled with names, showed where various people were.
"Filch is on the second floor," said Harry, holding the map close to her eyes, "and Mrs Norris is on the fourth."
"And Umbridge?" said Hermione anxiously.
"In her office,' said Harry, pointing. "Let's do this."
They hurried along the corridor and found a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.
"Okay," said Mia quietly, while a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch them. "We walk past three times, thinking what we need."
They did so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-sized vase on its other side. Ron had screwed up his eyes in concentration; Hermione was whispering something under her breath; Harry's fists were clenched as he stared ahead of him while Mia's eyes glowed red as she stared at the door.
'We need somewhere to learn to fight,' she thought. 'Just give us a place to practise, somewhere they can't find us.'
"Mia!" said Hermione sharply, as they wheeled around after their third walk past. A highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Ron was staring at it, looking slightly wary. Mia reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.
The walls were lined with wooden bookcases and instead of chairs, there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had hung, the previous year, in the fake Moodys office.
"These will be good when we're practising Stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.
"And just look at these books!" said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. "A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions, The Dark Arts Outsmarted, Self-Defensive Spellwork, wow. . . ."
