Disclaimer. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. As does all of the characters. So any of these characters that are "true" Harry Potter characters belong to her. I don't lay any claim whatsoever to them. They are hers. Enough said.
"Bidelia!" Miss Cole, the head of the orphanage, called to a girl in her mid-teens. "There's a young man here to pay you a visit!"
The girl, furiously blushing, stopped what she was in the middle of doing and walked slowly to the side of Miss Cole. The hen-like woman gave her a stern look.
"Now, young man, there'll be none of this touchy-feely mess. Understood?" The boy blushed and nodded slowly. "Good. And if I do find out that you two tried to do anything, this cane right here," Miss Cole indicated a rather sturdy looking cane leaning in a corner, "will become aquainted with your backsides. The both of you." She gave another meaningful look to Bidelia, and then nodded, an indication for the two to be on their way. She watched the two slowly walk off and shook her head. "I don't see how my aunt did this for so long. Taking care of so many kids is exhausting, it is." She then walked inside the building and closed the door shut behind her.
"Good lord, you would think I have done something bad before," Bidelia sighed in a annoyed voice.
"Well, she does have a reason to be wary about you."
"Yeah, yeah. 'Bidelia, put that stick thing away! Bidelia, stop doing those unnatural things that you have no control over! Bidelia, stop being a witch!' It's downright bothersome sometimes."
The handsome boy looked nervous about something. "Um... Bidelia? I know that this is a sore subject for you, but do you ever wonder where you get it from?"
"Get what from?" Bidelia turned her heavily-lidded eyes to her friend.
"The magic."
Bidelia engrossed herself in deep thought before replying. "Of course I wonder. Why wouldn't I?" She playfully punched her friend's shoulder. "Don't have to ask you if you wonder where you got it from. It's obvious, especially when your father defeated the Dark Lord and your mother is as pure as pure-bloods get."
"Could've been a squib, though."
Bidelia rolled her eyes, dismissing this remark. "I don't get why you even talk to me. I mean, I'm a Slytherin. You're James Potter. We should be enemies."
"According to the past, we should be. That doesn't mean we can't be friends."
"But-"
"Listen, Bidelia, are you going to let the past rule what happens in our lives?" James looked into Bidelia's eyes. She smiled and shook her head. "Good. Because then we wouldn't be friends, and that would never work out."
"You're just saying that," Bidelia replied, but she knew that James was being serious. He had every reason to be.
James looked up at the sky, which was closing to dusk already. "I think I had better escort you back. Miss Cole might get rather annoying if you come back alone or, worse, I escort you back at too late a time."
"You're right." Bidelia smiled. "As usual."