Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe is owned solely by J.K. Rowling, I only play in it for no profit whatsoever.

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This will be a multi-chapter endeavour, but the chapter will be kept short and to the point. This is also my first fic, so, please, be gentle but strict :)

I would massively appreciate any feedback and reviews. As I still haven't found a beta reader, I'm in a desperate need for one! I hope you enjoy the story and lets see where we end up with it :)

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She was not a nice person and she knew that. Now in her late thirties, there was really only a few personal traits she was proud of. She considered herself to be loyal, but not to a fault. Brave, mostly to spite herself. Brutally honest, mostly because it was uncomfortable. And smart, because she wasn't able to swim down life with careless ease.

None of these, though, compared to the ever present flaws, lurking beneath the surface like eels. The anger, sharp and spontaneous, was how she tended to react most of the time. Stubbornness was something she continuously battled with, stubbornly, one might say. And impatience, which was like a fuel to the anger and stubbornness.

All in all, it wasn't the easiest combination to have for a personality. It was all laced with an almost ancient feeling of sorrow for the world she lived in. It felt like a mountain on her shoulders and a black hole in her chest. The only comfort she could find was to remind herself of a lesson learned ages ago that, to change the world, one had to change oneself first. It wasn't a great comfort, but it helped ease the everyday pain and guilt.

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The war had ended. It ended the way it did and now, sometimes, it felt like the outcome would have been the same no matter what they had done. Maybe they shouldn't have lost so many friends. Maybe some others should have died instead. But, at the end of the day, they all had done the best they could while put in front of impossible decisions.

Even entertaining the useless ''what if's'' to imagine if they had somehow saved the Headmaster or rallied the ministry troops sooner… however, it felt, that no matter what, those things would still have happened, somehow. Almost as if they were fixed points in time and space.

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She slowly and deliberately thrust her right arm out, bending the elbow, puckered yet slack fingers facing her chest. Controlled exhale deflated the woman's chest, soon being replaced by equally controlled intake of oxygen, all the while fluid movements continued to carry her limbs into next combination.

Finishing the last combination, Zarah held the position until the last bits of breath and anxiety left her body, before breaking concentration and straightening up. Her forearm was sliding over the sweaty forehead, as a towel was very rudely thrown into her face.

When the fluffy and offending piece of cloth was removed, she frowned in puzzlement in the general direction of where it had flown from. ''Richard?'' what the hell? Zarah's brows furrowed as she looked the man up and down. He was dressed in a dark gray, neat three piece suit with a ridiculously blinding white handkerchief triangle peeking out from the chest pocket.

''You are late,'' the man stated briskly, apparently annoyed.

Shit, date night. Her gaze shot to the clock on the wall that promptly indicated it was quarter to nine. Shit. She was late. Like an hour late. ''I'm so sorry, Richard. I got carried away,'' she frantically started gathering her things from the side of the mat. ''It was a tense day at work and I needed to unwind before the date. I must have gotten carried away. Again, I'm sorry,'' holding the duffle bag, wand and shoes in one hand, she put the other on his chest, leaning up to give him a quick kiss, but the man evaded the gesture by turning his face away.

''My parents flew from Italy to finally meet you and you couldn't make the time for them,'' the hurt and disappointment in his voice was plain.

Zarah recoiled, even taking a step back. ''I said I was sorry, Richard. You know how stressful my job can be. And you know I didn't do it on purpose,'' she still frowned, trying not to sound too annoyed by the accusations. Yes, she knew full well that she was in the wrong. They had planned this for a long time, it was her first time meeting the parents too, so it was undoubtedly important. But...

''There are always buts with you, aren't there,'' as if reading her mind, Richard soured even more. ''I do know how important your work is to you, but, to be honest, I feel I'm starting to lose the battle of priorities in your life, Zarah.''

''We have had this conversation before.''

''Yes, that's the point. And though you try a little harder after every one, in the end, it always goes back to you and what is important to you. I'm not insecure enough to think you don't love me, but I think.. no, I know, that what you think and need will always be more important to you than anything else.''

''Richard, please don't make me feel bad for knowing what I want,'' there was pleading tone in her voice, but it was undoubtedly laced with irritation. This definitely was not the first time they were having this specific talk.

''I will not. I will do more than that, I will give you your freedom and independence. I love you, Zarah, but I cannot for ever be in second and third places for you. You are a marvelous woman that I have been head over heels in love with for years. But the witch in you... it's like you can't consolidate these two sides of yourself and can only be either one or the other. And more often than not you choose to be the latter. I don't know how to love you as a witch and she always makes me feel like she doesn't fucking need me. Like my mere presence, your feelings towards me are an imposition for her. I can't live like that.''

His voice cracked and he nervously adjusted the crimson tie knot. Zarah just stood there, speechless and non responsive. To be very very honest, this hadn't completely blindsided her, as different versions of the same statements had been proposed in their previous spats. But laid out next to each other, they shamed her. Again, she knew all of it to be true.

''I...'' was there really anything she could say to justify herself? No. Her eyes left the man's face, sliding to her own naked feet.

They stood there in silence until eventually she felt his warm hand land on her shoulder. He gave it a friendly yet reserved squeeze. ''I know, you are sorry. So am I, love. But this is not working out and I think we need to do damage control before anyone has been truly hurt,'' Richard's voice was still strangled, but she could hear a not so well hidden relief. He pressed a long kiss on the top of her head, all the while Zarah did not dare look up.

Not even when she heard the crisp clicks of the dress shoes as he walked out of the dojo, door closing behind him with a delayed soft sound.

The woman continued standing where she had been left, not even daring to blink in fear of world shattering. She did, however, need to breath eventually and as she inhaled, with a great shudder, the earth did not swallow her. Another intake of air and still nothing exploded. It was almost more insulting that nothing happened to the universe. Could it be because, on some level, she knew this was coming? And even felt that same relief she heard in Richard's voice?

She let the things fall out of hand, landing in a heap on the floor, and returned back to the middle of the mat. Deliberately turning her back towards the big mirrors, the witch began going through all the combinations again. Every time she made a mistake, she began from the starting position, every time trying to push further and further forward. She didn't stop until the tears had dried, sobbing had stopped and she could go through combinations from beginning to the end without a single mistake.