She Traitor

Sarah had never expected to spend a summer outside of England, and certainly not without her parents. Every year she could remember, the Potters had gone on holiday together. They had been to Italy, where they had wandered through the ancient ruins of Rome and tasted the best wizarding ice cream in city. In Greece, they had admired mythical places that were suspiciously alive with magic, and in Germany, they had visited ancient castles that were said to have once been the homes of legendary wizards.

But this year? This year, she was in France with the Longbottoms. And even though it was something completely different, she couldn't deny that she was enjoying it.

The French coast was like something out of a fairy tale. The beaches she and Alice had been to were bathed in the soft golden glow of the setting sun. The sea was clear and calm, its waves lazily lapping the shore. As she walked barefoot across the sand, she could feel the fine grains of sand crunching between her toes.

“If only we could stay here forever,” Alice sighed beside her, stretching out on the warm stone near the cliffs.

Sarah laughed. “What about Hogwarts? What about Quidditch? What about your Auror career?”

Alice shrugged thoughtfully. “Good point. But I’d be happy to stay here for a few more weeks.”

Her days were a mix of strolls through wizarding markets, visits to bookstores that sold volumes on alchemy, which were hard to find in England, and evenings spent in cafes where wizards debated over glasses of red wine and strong coffee.

One day Augusta took her to a wizarding part of Paris. The wizarding district was hidden among the old houses of Montmartre, where you only had to walk through an invisible gate and you found yourself in a place that had its own magic—literally.  Flying lanterns lit the streets even during the day, elegant witches in ornate robes walked between the shops, and a fountain stream floated in the middle of the square, changing into different shapes every time someone with strong magic passed by.

In one of the boutiques, she tried on a dark blue gown that shimmered in the light with silver patterns of a starry sky. Alice had made her buy it, even though she wasn’t sure when she would ever use such a dress.

“Maybe for a ball. Or when you’re Lady Potter and have to represent the family,” Alice joked.

Sarah just snorted. “That’s unlikely to happen.”

It was impossible. Her brother was supposed to be the heir to the family, but until now he had never seemed interested in becoming a lord like Uncle Charlus.

That evening, as she sat on the balcony of her hotel suite overlooking the Seine, she allowed herself a moment to think about England. About what awaited her when she returned.

She remembered her last moments at the station. About Regulus.  At his calm voice, at the way he looked at her before he placed a small black box with the House Black crest in her hands.

The silver chain now hung around her neck.

Instead, she took a deep breath of the night air, scented with lavender and river, closed her eyes, and decided to enjoy the summer in France for as long as she could.

•••

Regulus sat at the family table in the darkly decorated dining room at 12 Grimmauld Place. The walls were paneled in heavy mahogany, highlighted by family tapestries and magical portraits of the ancestors, who watched the meal with stern expressions. Silver candelabras cast a flickering light on the carved table, around which sat the elite of the Black family and their allies.

His parents, Walburga and Orion Black, were there, as was his grandfather, Arcturus Black, who, as head of the house, took pride of place at the head of the table. To his right sat Cygnus and Druella Black, along with their daughters—Narcissa and Bellatrix. Narcissa was accompanied by her husband, Lucius Malfoy, who looked perfectly polished even at the meal, and Bellatrix sat next to her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, whose expression was as usual indifferent, almost bored.

Regulus had never liked Rabastan's older brother.

The conversation initially revolved around the usual topics—Ministry politics, the Dark Lord's growing influence, and, of course, the inevitable subject: Sirius Black.

"He's a disgrace to our family," Druella said, gracefully raising her wine glass. "He runs around among Muggle-borns like a stray dog, and yet he dares to dishonor our house by fraternizing with the Potters."

Bellatrix snorted contemptuously. "He's shown his weakness. The Blacks aren't scum like the Potters."

Regulus was silent. He'd heard what they were saying countless times before. They knew his point—he'd always been devoted to his family, always tried to be the better son. But the subject of Sirius stirred in him a feeling he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was disgust. Maybe it was regret. Maybe it was just tired resignation.

And then Walburga changed the direction of the conversation.

"I met the youngest member of the Potter family today," she said almost casually, but there was something strange in her tone.

Regulus froze.

"Sarah Potter."

There was silence at the table before Narcissa asked with mild interest, "Potter? James' sister? The ones Sirius had joined."

Walburga nodded. "Yes. She was with the widow Longbottom at Gringotts." There was a hint of curiosity in her voice, which was not often. "I must say I was impressed. She was... respectful. Dignified. She knew how to behave."

Regulus' jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Sarah..

His Sarah who was so passionate.

He knew Sarah had always been good, but she had even impressed his mother. Regulus suddenly realized that it wasn't even because of him, but the pride he felt didn't disappear.

"She's clearly the good kid in the family," Walburga continued. "Unlike her brother, who chose to act like a Muggle-born jester."

Narcissa lightly played with a lock of her blond hair. "That's surprising. I always thought she was the same as James Potter. It seems I was wrong."

"The fact that she was with Longbottom speaks for itself," Druella added, raising her eyebrows slightly. "She obviously doesn't have a very close relationship with her family."

Arcturus Black, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His voice was deep and authoritative, and everyone in the room immediately paid attention to him.

"Sarah Potter is known among the other lords for her manners," he stated calmly. "Unlike her brother, she has always been a stickler for tradition and has never publicly disagreed. Although she is not an heiress, her manners are worthy of a noble lady."

Regulus felt his stomach clench. He knew Sarah was different from James. Always had been. But to hear it from his grandfather? That was something else. Regulus didn't think he had ever been happier, although he couldn't show it in any way.

Rodolphus Lestrange exchanged a glance with his wife before tilting his head to the side. "My brother Rabastan mentioned her once. She is said to be frequently between the Rosier twins and Barty Crouch Junior"

Bellatrix grinned. "Interesting company for Potter."

“The two siblings are said to not get along,” Rodolphus added.

Regulus was silent. His gaze shifted slightly to his mother, but his expression was firm, unreadable. He could not reveal anything. He could not hint at anything.

Walburga turned slowly towards him, her eyes piercing him like knife-edges.

“Perhaps you should get closer to her, Regulus,” she said casually, but there was a clear expectation in her voice. “She seems surprisingly smart for a Potter. And if she can be respected among the lords at such a young age, it is obvious that she could have her place in high society.”

The silence at the table was almost palpable. Regulus looked at his mother, and for a split second he felt that she was waiting for his reaction, as if she were searching for something specific.

Finally he nodded slightly.

“As you wish, Mother.”

His voice was calm, composed. Without emotion. But chaos echoed in his mind.

Sarah Potter was already in high society. Just in a different way than his family thought.

•••

Augusta Longbottom was not a woman who jumped to conclusions. She always observed, analyzed, and then formed a firm opinion. And when it came to Sarah Potter, she had to admit that she was fascinated by the girl.

During her summer with the Longbottoms, she had seen two faces of Sarah Potter. The first she had recognized the first week, when the tousled-haired girl had run around the Longbottom manor with a Quidditch ball in her hand, laughing with Frank, not worrying about her dress being covered in grass. Augusta had caught a few glimpses of her floating on a broomstick, her hair flying in the wind, her eyes shining with pure enthusiasm. In those moments, Sarah was spontaneous, passionate, and completely genuine.

But then there was the other face.

The one Augusta had seen during more formal events, at wizarding businesses in France, or when dealing with respected wizards. Sarah could switch in an instant.  Her laughter had quieted, her gestures had become more graceful, her speech more deliberate. She was perfectly mannered, knowing exactly what to say and when to keep quiet. Augusta was not naive—she knew that most young girls learn social norms, but with Sarah it was not just learned politeness. There was something more to it.

And then there was another detail that caught Augusta’s attention. Frank had once mentioned that Sarah had friends in Slytherin. That was not exactly the norm, especially since she came from a family that proudly claimed to be Gryffindor. And yet, when Augusta thought about it, it made sense. Perhaps it was her Slytherin connections that had honed her tongue to such razor-sharp precision. Sarah could talk to get what she wanted, but she never came across as pushy or overly patronizing. On the contrary, people listened to her, perhaps without even realizing it.

Alice Fortescue, Frank’s girlfriend, was a good girl.  Augusta liked her. She was strong, determined, had the right values. But she was sometimes too obvious in her tactics. She threw herself into things headlong, said exactly what she thought, and didn't always think about how she might affect others. In the fight against the Dark magic? Yes, she would be great there. But in a world where the greatest battles were fought at dinner tables and in quiet drawing rooms? Alice wouldn't stand a chance there.

Sarah Potter, on the other hand... she had potential.

If Augusta had closed her eyes and not known her past, she would have sworn she saw a future lady before her. Yes, she had passion, but she could hide it when needed. She would not only be a charming wife, but also an invaluable ally. A partner who knew when to intervene and when to let others think they had the upper hand.

Augusta didn't believe in coincidences.  And if Sarah Potter was a Gryffindor and still a respected by Slytherin society, it meant only one thing—that she knew how to survive in both worlds. And that was something that couldn't be taught. You either had it in you or you didn't.

And Sarah Potter certainly had it in her.