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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✴ ✴ ✴ ✴
"Please describe the attack. What did they look like?"
The twins were sitting in the viewing area while their neighbour was sitting in the chair Mia was in, looking scared and more batty than ever. Mia wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers.
"Well, one of them was very large and the other two rather skinny," Mrs. Figg said as Mia put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
"We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Euphemia and Harry Potter," said Madam Bones at once. "That situation has always been closely monitored, given. . . . given past events."
"I'm a Squib," said Mrs. Figg. "So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?"
"A Squib, eh?" said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. "We'll be checking that. You'll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?" he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat.
"Yes, we can!" said Mrs. Figg indignantly. Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised.
"Very well," he said coolly. "What is your story?"
"I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end ofWisteria Walk, shortly after nine on the evening of the second of August," gabbled Mrs. Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, "when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw dementors running. . . ."
"Running?" said Madam Bones sharply. "Dementors don't run, they glide."
"That's what I meant to say," said Mrs. Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing on her withered cheeks. "Gliding along the alley toward what looked like two boys and a girl."
"What did they look like?" said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the monocle's edges disappeared into her flesh.
"Well, one was very large and the other two rather skinny. . . ."
"No, no," said Madam Bones impatiently, "the dementors. . . . describe them."
"Oh," said Mrs. Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. "They were big. Big and wearing cloaks."
Mia felt a horrible sinking in the pit of her stomach. Whatever Mrs. Figg said to the contrary, it sounded to her as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like. The eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground, or the rotting smell of them, or that terrible, rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air
A dumpy wizard with a large black moustache in the second row leaned close to his neighbour, a frizzy-haired witch, and whispered something in her ear. She smirked and nodded.
