How will you act if you suddenly found yourself as a baby, and not just any baby .
A potter ?
Well as confusing and amusing that may be , this is what happened to me.
Hi !! My name is Camelia Cerelia Potter , and I'm the baby who wasn't supposed t...
Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards.
Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog.
When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend.
He shook Harry’s hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.
Since Harry wouldn't leave me alone and dragged me with him, much to Fudge's dismay.
Perhaps, my appearance during Sirius's trial left a bitter taste on his tongue.
Not that I care much anyway. He's a puppet that I'll play, as long it works just fine.
And he knows that well enough too
Associating with me would provide him much more fame than my brother. Daily Prophet loves to belittle a lady running the house it seems.
“Harry and Camelia Potter, you know,” he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn’t seem to understand a word of English.
“Harry and Camelia Potter . . . oh come on now, you know who they are . . . the twins who survived You-Know-Who . . . you do know who he is —”
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted our scars and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
“Knew we’d get there in the end,” said Fudge wearily to Harry.
“I’m no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf’s saving him a seat. . . . Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places . . . ah, and here’s Lucius!”
Harry, Ron, Hermione and I turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Lucius Malfoy, Draco, Theo and Narcissa
Narcissa seemed so different than I had seen her in the tent. Back then, she wore a pleasant smile and right now, she was wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.
Must be Lucy's hair gel
“Ah, Fudge,” said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. “How are you? I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?”
