A/N: Alright everyone! I am sorry about all of the updates that have been lacking. I went through a horrible writers block and it wasn't until recently that I decided "I don't like my story... I'm going to re-do it.". I've had Zarina in my mind for over 10 years now and I want to do her story justice. The last story that I had started posting on here was merely a summary of her story. With these, I've remade the chapters, changed quite a bit and well, I'll leave the rest for you to read. But PLEASE leave me a comment letting me know how you like the changes!

Zarina Zilini, the average American girl with a weird first and last name. But, with a weird name comes weirdness is personality, humor, and life in general.

Zarina was, by no means, unaware of this theory. She knew she was weird mainly since she was the only one in her family not excited to move to London.

By the age of ten she was having the same arguement with her mother as she had had for the last six months.

"Please remind me why I can't go live with Aunt Jora and Uncle Timmy back in America?"

"You're too young to move across the country by yourself." her mother stated with a long hint of annoyance at the old conversation.

"Besides," she continued, "You'll be starting a private school in September. You just recieved your acceptance letter this morning."

"I wasn't aware that I was going to go to a private school." Her voice was close to matching her mother's tone. Zarina hated being left out of any loop.

Her mother continued to do the dishes, and a rather proud smirk was on her face. Somethin rarely seen on her face since they had moved, especially since she knew her mother loathed doing the dishes.

"Yes, it is only fitfull that you will attend."

"Attend to what?" Mr. Zilini walked down the stairs eyeing his wife from the bottom of the stairwell. His light grey eyes questioning her statement.

Ziren Zilini was a tall man with long silver hair and a peppered goatee. Always dressing in his best in an assortment of suits, his presence demanded leadership and no questions. She couldn't remember a time when he didn't wear a suit, even in summer. She also couldn't remember ever seeing a look of disgust or a look of unease in his eyes when they lived in America. But since they had moved, she barely recognized her father at times.

"Zarina has been excepted."

"To what?" He was getting fed up with her beating around subject. Nicollettes eye's flashed dangerously at her husband and her gaze drifted to the kithen table where a large envelope layed face down amongst postcards and a newspaper.

Ziren's emotions were suddenly hard to make out. Zarina thought she might have seen shock, happiness, suspicion and lastly a slightly worried expression that he chose as his new mask.

"Right then." His gaze shifted from the letter and settled on his daughter.

"When are you leaving?" He asked his wife.

"When am I? Are you not attending?" Nicollettes eyes narrowed defensively and suddenly she seemed dangerous. She dried her hands on her apron, her dark tattoo glistening with water on her left forearm. Unconsciously she rolled down her sleeves and crossed her arms.

"You want me to take her alone?"

"Yes. Both of us would cause an uproar and you know it. It hasn't been that long for these idiots to forget."
"Fine." She threw down her drying rag on the counter and scowled at Zarina.

"Go get ready."

Zarina knew better than to question that look, and she ran past her father up the steps to her room. Just as she knew not to ask about the family tattoo, she knew she was not going to have a fun conversation with Bridgette whenever they returned.

"Darling Rina, how much of your father's and my background have you been told about?" she asked her daughter. Together they were talking down the busy streets of London.

Zarina merely shrugged.

"Just that you and dad met in boarding school and got married shortly after. You both grew up here and moved to America around the time I was concieved." She noticed that while she had no idea where she was going, her mother knew exactly where she was headed, almost as if her feet were leading her completely on their own. There was not a single fault in her quick step.

Zarina grabbed her mother's hand as the streets started getting gloomy and filled with even more gloomy people. She felt oddly out of place in her bright yellow sundress that contrasted with her short black hair and pale skin.

"Why are we here?" She felt uneasy about the place. "I thought we were going to go school shopping. This is a pub." She pointed out. But her mother continued and even entered the downtrodden pub. Zarina made aware to not let go of her mother's hand as they wound their way through the tables and guests. She noticed that her mother's attention never left the back door. Once they were free of the foul smell of whiskey, Nicollette Zilini bent down on one knee and looked her daughter in the eye, her face serious as it was that morning.

"My Rina, I have much to tell you before we continue, and most of it you must understand immediately.

"You are a witch. Not in a bad way, but as in all of those fantasy books you read. For your safety we have hidden it from you. Your father and I despised the idea, but no one in America was to know, for over there, there are very little of our magical kind.

"But you are also a Zilini. You need to be proud of this fact. Many people will try and tell you otherwise, that our name is associated with monsters, but this is not true. They are the true monsters of our race. Your blood that runs through you is the purest it can ever be. Always remember that you'll be fine." Nicollette straightened up and readjusted her long dress and overcoat. Zarina's expression changed from skeptical to thoughtful in an instant. Her mother never joked around; it just had to be true. It all somehow made sense. She didn't understand all of that nonsense about blood lines but the unknown in her life was finally lightened. She stared at her mother's tattoo, completely hidden at the moment, but she knew it was there. She also knew that it somehow verifed all of what her mother had just said. Now her life had turned just as weird as her name. Somehow everything now made sense. She vaguely wondered if Bridgette would have this much fun with her own family.

Nicollette pulled out a long mahogony stick and tapped the brick wall in front of them. Before Zarina's eyes a large archway appeared before them. Inside was loud, filled with people of all shapes and colors and variaties. She heard frogs and owls, kids screaming, parents calling and talking to others. She saw everyone dressed in robes and carrying large bags with moving pictures on them. She could smell the delicious aroma coming from around the corner and was delighted to immediately see an ice cream store.

Before she could get too distracted by all of the colors and sounds, her mother grabbed her hand and started off.

"You need robes. We will start there first."

"Can I get blue robes? Or pink?" she asked excitedly. Blue was her favorite color to wear.

"No. Black only. You're not trying to make a fashion statement."

"Oh." She huffed. Looking around quickly she read the sign: "Eeylopes Owls" and was intrigued.

"Mother, can I look over there? I promise not to stray or anything..." Nicollette quickly glanced around and nodded.

"Fine, but do not leave the store." Zarina nodded in agreement and ran off inside the large building. Nicollette shrugged and entered Madam Malkin's Robes Shop For All Occasions.

Zarina entered the shop and was suddenly aware at how loud it all was. She was startled to feel straw underneath her sandals and figured it was more than likely easier to clean.

Se was amazed at all of the different types of owls. Shee had been unaware at how many different breeds there really were.

One especially caught her eye. Its perch had a name tag as for the breed and it read: "Barred Owl".

It was a beautiful tan color with white vertical striped throughout its wings and chest. It's disc shaped eyes and head stared back at her with as much curiousity as she had for it.

She started when she was tapped on the shoulder unexpectantly. Quickly she whipped around.

It was a very pretty woman with large hazel eyes and long blonde hair. Zarina was more interested in the boy her own age with the messed up hair, glasses and matching hazel eyes as his mother. On one shoulder was a large barn owl, the other was taken by his mother's soft hand. Vaguely Zarina wondered if she would look as silly in robes and cloaks.

The boy caught her eye and winked, not before looking at her Muggle-style sundress.

"Are you lost my dear?" his mother asked. Zarina jumped slightly as she noticed the barred owl she was looking at earlier had landed on her own shoulder, hooting at it's friend across the way.

"No, I'm not lost. My mother is over there." She pointed at the robe shop across the street. At that moment, as if on cue, Nicollette appeared with a bag on either arm. The bell gave her away as she entered the Emporium. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the mother and son. Without her eyes leaving them, she walked to her daughter.

"I see you found a suitable pet, darling?"

"Yes, mother." Once she was close enough did her mother seem to recognize the boy and mother. Her glaze quickly turned venomous.

"Dorea, why, is that you?" Her voice matched her stare. She could see her hand clench on her son's shoulder subconsciously tighter.

"Nicollette! How have you been?" There was no trace of resentment or poison in her voice, just pure joy at the coincidence of seeing an old school pal.

"Wonderful! Is this your boy?"

"Why yes, this is my James."

"Aren't you a cute lad." Her voice remained the same, sweet venom.

"Thank you, ma'am." James answered cooly, ruffling his hair in the meantime. With a wink to Zarina he added, "It is quite the pleasure." It was an act that did not go unnoticed.

"Did you and Ziren ever get married? I remember you both were quite the extravaggent pair." Dorea's tone seemed to sour at her father's name.

"But of course. This is our daughter, Zarina Aeon Zilini."

"Very fitting. Her first year?"

"Yes. His?" Zarina and James both could feel the tension in the air.

"Of course. We were just out doing a little school shopping. I suppose we'll see you at the platform, then." Her voice was back to being joyful and cheery. She quickly paid for the large barn owl and left the shop, not looking back. Nicollette's eyes never left the pair of them. She watched as they were joined by a man that Zarina had no problem in recognize as the boy's father. He carried ice cream cones for the three of them and was obviously praising his son's pick of an owl.

Nicollette distractedly paid for her daughter's owl and they headed back out to the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

"Those, Rina," Zarina looked at her mother quickly, panicked by the scathing voice she used. She followed her mother's deadly gaze towards the cute boy and his parents. "Those," She repeated, "are the type you do not want to have anything to do with."

"Why? They seemed nice, and they seem to know you and daddy too!" She simled as her owl let out an agreeing hoot.

"Yes, they know your father. Dorea must have married that blood traitor, Charlus Potter. He is one you must never mention to your father. Blood traitors are witches and wizards who would prefer to have pollution in their blood. They have no problem marrying a Muggle- someone without a trace of magic in their veins. As I told you earlier dear, ours is pure. We have only married our kind, as the way it should be. None of that other rubbish."

Zarina had a feeling that this type of thinking was all very political and politics hurt her head. She didn't reply to her mothers rantings. She liked the boy, and it seemed like he might be funny. However she figured it would be unwise to cross her mother today. She had never seen her mother so angry before nor was she the type to be bothered by anything.

Soon they were back to shopping. Other than the owl shop, Zarina's favorite store had to be the Potions Apothecary. Zarina had always wondered whether or not "eye of newt" was ever used and to her surprise it was almost sold out. She searched the shelves for any other fuming ingrediants and wondered vaguely if they had made anything tasty when used. Soon, she was having to be dragged out.

What felt like hours later, and entering almost every store, they stopped in front of an old worn down shop. In the dusty windows were light purple pillows, sunfaded, with short and long sticks laying across from them. Zarina read the name scrawled on the sign: "Ollivander's Wand Shop."

"Wand shop?" She read aloud. "I actually get to have my own wand?" the idea seemed rather silly, but she still wanted one.

"Yes. This is where we all get our wands at your age. Come." Her mother walked inside, and somewhere in the shop a bell rang twice, announcing their presence. Nicollette sat in an old chair and waited patiently. Zarina, who had no idea what to do, settled for looking around. Somewhere behind hundreds of shelves an older voice yelled "Coming! I'm coming!"

Zarina cast her mother a nervous side glace. Quickly an older, white-haired gentleman appeared behind his desk.

"Ah, young Nicollette. Mahogony, 14 inches, dragon heartstring, right?" Nicollette nodded and gave him a knowing smile.

"And this must be your daughter? Already time for her first wand, is it?" Ollivander walked around his desk and pulled out a tape measurer from one of his many pockets. Zarina was amazed at his memory, but not so much as the measurer that was showing off her pinky finger's length.

"Right or left handed?" he asked her without so much as looking at her; he was already searching through boxes.

"Right." she stammered. The tape measure seemed to have finished it's job for it fell to the floor loudly.

"Lets try Willow, 14 inches, unicorn hair." He handed her the wand and waited.

Zarina looked it over and began to blush. "What do I do with it, sir?"

"Swish it around and the like!" But before she even moved her hand, he snatched it away, muttering.

Another seemingly random box was chosen.

"Yew, 11 inches, pheonix feather."

She swished it around before he could yank it out of her hands.

"Nope! But close! Very close!" Without much luck, he grabbed it away. Zarina's patience was starting to wear thin.

Ollivander quickly came back with a rather dusty box.

"This is one of my personal favorites since it came from my own bird.

"Maple, 10 3/4 inches, peacock feather." He delicately handed the wand over.

As soon as she touched it, she knew it was perfect. Ollivander was smiling as he could tell it was too.

"It is an unusual wand combination and very whispy. Great for Transfiguration and performing complex spells. I have no doubt that you will be able to do wonders with that wand. An unusual wand for an unusual girl, indeed."

Zarina didn't understand what most of that meant, but she did understand that he just called her weird.

"15 sickles please." Ollivander held out his hand. Nicollette raised an eyebrow at the price, but paid it anyhow. Together, mother and daughter left the wand shop.

Zarina was relieved when she realized they noww had everything they needed for her first year of school.

Byt the time they reached the car, Zarina's feet were aching, but the pain was quickly eased by her excitement. She was starting this weird life of hers. Secretely she hoped that she would be able to talk to that James Potter boy again. This time without the interruption of parents with long held grudges.

The week before September first seemed to drag on forever. Zarina wasn't allowed to play with her wand since her parents didn't want her doing accidental magic, or so they said.

So she opted to spend her days playing with her best friend, Bridgette, and studying her new books at night (she had a hard time accepting the fact that she would actually be learning it's contents).

Bridgette too was going away for school. Neither of the girls said where they would be going, but both knew they would write and nothing would be different between them.

Bridgette was a laid back girl. She didn't allow anything to bother her, and she enjoyed any new conflict. She was also a huge gossip, as the reason why Zarina knew better than to say anything about Hogwarts or being a witch to her. Zarina hated the feeling of hiding something from her best friend, but they had plenty of other happy things to talk about. They spared no details when talking about the boys they had seen over the weekend.

"He was a little taller than me, with shoulder length black hair. An awesome smile and cool gray eyes. Even his little brother was kind of cute. I think he was nine or ten though..." Bridgette trailed off.

"Ew! Too young!"

"No, his little brother was obviously too young, but his older borhter was cute. I would have talked to him, but his mom looked like a hawk. Scary." She shuddered at the thought. "What about you?"

Zarina instantly thought of James and grinned sheepishly.

"He had black hair..." she started off reluctantly. Bridgette had to nudge her for her to continue.

"It was short and messy, like he hadn't brushed it in a while. Definitely taller than either of us. Way skinny. Umm... Glasses and he had hazel eyes. My mom was yelling at his mom so I didn't catch a lot details." She could feel her face progressively get redder and redder.

"Enough to tell what eye color he had though!" Bridgette playfully pushed Zarina. Her face burned brighter and hotter as Bridgette laughed. Zarina was no where near as boy crazy as her friend, but it was still a nice change from the rising unease in her household.

At night, after playing with her friend and eating dinner with her family, she would take out Opal and pet her absently as she flipped through her favorite potions book. Opal the owl would hoot happily until it was time for bed. Zarina would ope her window, watch her maginificent bird fly out as she stretched, ready for bed. For her, the week could not come quickly enough. True, it meant leaving everything she as normal behind, but she would be embracing what she knew as true. Zarina was a weird child with a weird name, and now she was getting the weird life she knew was bound to come, to go along with everything else weird.

A/N: I know it was long, but thank you for reading through it! Please let me know what you think of this new and improved version! So far most of the chapters are this long, so I hope you all enjoy!