Author's Note: Wow, I am so sorry for the late update! D': I really am. But thanks to lilirox187 and moonluver26 for reviewing Chapter Two! Also, I would like to address a good point that moonluver26 brought up.

In the last chapter, I stated that Regulus is a year younger than CJ, yet he is in her Charms class. This was a mistake on my part. Yes, Regulus is a year younger than CJ and the rest of the gang. I realize now that this means he wouldn't be in any of her classes. So, for those of you who read the last chapter and caught that mistake (or didn't), pretend that instead of having class with him, CJ passed him in the corridor and the whole 'smiling and nodding' thing happened.

Though, they do still have tutoring sessions in Potions. That I did get right. That's just how bad CJ is at the class. Regulus is so advanced that he is able to teach course work past what his own year is learning. XD Sad really.

But without further delay, here's Chapter Three!

Chapter Three

Ugh. Potions.

Why did I need to learn any of this? It's not like I was aiming on becoming a Healer.

…okay, so maybe one or two of these potions would come in handy some day, but all the rest were just a waste of time!

As Lyla and I began cutting and chopping up ingredients for our cauldron, I glanced enviously over at Lily and Snape, who were, of course, partners as always. Which meant I was always paired up with Lyla. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but she sucked at this almost as much as I did.

"Okay, so now we add the roots," I heard Lyla mutter. She dropped a few, thin, brown looking roots into the cauldron and began to stir it counterclockwise, her face peering into the bowl with mild interest.

Right, cause it's going to start foaming and turn violet. I thought sarcastically.

Though, now that I think about it, that's not too far-fetched in the realm of possibilities.

I tossed a few leaves into the potion after reading that they went in after the roots, but the next thing I knew, the cauldron exploded in mine and Lyla's faces. I coughed, as did Lyla, and Professor Slughorn came waddling over, a frown set on his face as he stared at us.

"Ladies…did you forget to let the potion rest for three minutes before adding the mint leaves?"

If looks could kill, Lyla's glare would've slit my throat and gouged my eyes out.

But despite the obvious death scowl she was giving me, I started cracking up when I actually took in her face. It was orange.

She looked genuinely angry at me for a moment before she too began laughing. Apparently, I was orange as well. Oh bugger.

Slughorn didn't seem to be as amused. "Well, your potion is ruined now." He sighed and rubbed his protruding tummy. "And you better go off to the Hospital Wing to get those orange faces removed."

On the outside, I was calm and collected as Lyla and I nodded and left the dungeons. On the inside? I was freaking doing an Irish jig at the prospect of being able to skip the rest of Potions.

"Hey Lyla, guess what?"

"Hmm?"

"You're orange."

"Thanks CJ. I had no idea."

"You're welcome. Glad I could be of service."

Lyla rolled her eyes, but I caught the smile that briefly crossed her face. After all, where would the world be without a little playful banter?

But then, as we walked farther away from the Potions classroom and out of the dungeons, the atmosphere changed. I didn't feel like cracking a joke. Goosebumps covered my arms (even though I was still wearing my robes), and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand on end.

The girl in me was saying I should tighten the fastenings on my cloak.

The witch in me was saying that Lyla and I were in danger.

"Lyla-" my hand was already inside my robe, but as I heard a loud, male voice cry 'Stupefy', I knew that I was already a split second too late. A strangled sound made its way to my throat as I watched in horror as Lyla fell to the ground, still as a statue. But then all my training in DADA kicked in and my wand was out in the open, firing spells in every which direction possible.

I heard a groan as one of my stinging hexes hit its target, and Thorfinn Rowle stepped into view, a grimace on his face as he glared at me. "You little Half-blood!" he spat.

"Dirty-blood is more like it."

I spun around, my grip tightening on my wand as Derek Nott smirked and crossed his arms, twirling his own wand in his right hand.

"Stinging hexes, Brightly? Surely dear Merrythought has taught you something more, shall we say, effective?"

As Rowle took a step closer, Nott continued speaking as his smirk turned into more of a sinister smile. "Like, for example, Cruc-"

"Expelliarmus!"

Nott's wand flew swiftly from his hand and landed with a 'clank'. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, but by the time he regained his wits, welts, bruises, and bumps of all kinds had sprouted everywhere on his body. My eyes widened and I turned to stare at Rowle, barely able to contain my surprise as I saw that he was covered in blistering red boils.

Both Slytherins howled in misery before glaring and fleeing. Just like that, in a single flash, they were gone.

But my savior wasn't. He was still there, his wand still poised perfectly in the air, his lips pursed as he took in the scene before him.

"Well," Black spoke, "This certainly isn't a sight you see everyday."

I watched as he took a few cautious steps closer before fully approaching me. "You do know you're orange, right?"

Maybe it was because he had just saved Lyla and I from an attack, but in that moment, I had expected Black to say something a little more heroic.

I decided not to answer him. "Thanks, Black. For helping out." Because I'd never admit that he had rescued me. Because that would melt my pride if I did.

He didn't correct me, which I was oddly grateful for. "No problem."

As he bent down to revive Lyla, he gave me a piercing look. "I know you, right? You're that one girl. Lily and Lyla's friend. Brighton? Bridgely?"

"It's Brightly, actually."

Black cracked a grin. "I'll remember one day, just you wait."

"Sure, sure."

The sound of Lyla moaning woke me from my thoughts and I quickly moved to lean down and steady my friend as she slowly stood up, one hand clutching her head as she held onto my arm with the other.

"Ugh, what in bloody hell happened? Why does my head feel like it just got dragged across a chainsaw?"

I chuckled. Same old Lyla. I told her the quick version as to what had occurred, and by the end, she was livid. Like, glowing with anger.

And then Delilah Mathers said some choice words that I didn't dare to repeat, even if my mother wasn't in the vicinity.

"Woah, easy there Mathers." Black said, grabbing Lyla's shoulder to help her as she wobbled slightly. Apparently, after getting stunned, the blonde had smacked her head pretty hard on the stone floor which, if I'm correct in assuming, is bloody painful.

Lyla looked wounded knowing that she was in need of help, but didn't protest as she was steadied on her feet. "So they really attacked us."

It wasn't a question. So Black and I didn't answer.

"They really stunned me."

"Yeah."

"They almost tortured you."

Silence.

We stayed like that for awhile. Quiet and awkward as we stood in the middle of the corridor. Then Lyla sharply said, "So what do we tell everyone else?"

My eyes snapped to stare at my best friend as Black shook his head. "I don't think-"

"Nothing!" I had replied too quickly, and we all knew it, but I didn't stop. "We don't tell anyone anything. Snitching makes us look vulnerable. Weak. They'll feel the need to target us again. We stay silent, and they loose interest."

And I couldn't bear the thought of admitting that Black had been there; that he had witnessed me in a time when I wasn't skilled enough to save Lyla and myself.

"But-" Lyla protested, but Black seemed to agree with me for once.

"I think Brightly is right, Mathers. The less everyone knows, the more boring you'll become."

As the three of us made our way towards the Hospital Wing (after all, Lyla and I were still orange in the face), I turned and gave Black a questioning look. At least, I'm hoping that's how it came out, though I would be lying if I said my tone didn't sound the least bit accusatory when I asked, "So, Black. How'd you find us?"

If I hadn't been paying attention to his every detail, I would've missed the brief, very brief, flash of apprehension that crossed his face. But I had been. So I didn't. And that made me suspicious.

"I was coming back from the washroom when I heard yelling. I figured something was up." He gave me a knowing look as he commented, "Good thing I checked, right?"

I wanted to throttle him. He was making it sound like I hadn't had things under control (which I hadn't) and that I had been too close to being tortured (which I had been). And I hated that he was right. I hated that Black of all people had to be the one to find me at a vulnerable point and feel compelled to help me.

"Yeah," I seethed, glancing away, "Good thing."

Lyla was looking from me to Black with an arched eyebrow. She opened her mouth to no doubt say something that would make me snap words I would later regret when Black suddenly held out an arm, stopping us in our tracks.

"We're here."

And when I glanced up, I realized we had already reached the infirmary.

Lyla still seemed a bit shaken, but she flashed a smile at Black and hugged him. Yes, actually hugged him. "Thanks, Black. We owe you one."

Then, with a quick wink, Lyla disappeared into the Hospital Wing.

I shifted from my right foot to my left foot, trying to decided if I should tie my laces now or-

"It's okay, you know." Black voiced. I didn't look up. I didn't have to. I knew his eyes were trained intently on me as I studied the floor. "It's okay to know you needed help. You don't have to admit it out loud. That's fine. But it's okay to be aware you couldn't have done it alone."

He gave me a brief smile before turning and walking away, but not before he looked over his shoulder. "But you can be resentful. That's okay too."

Suddenly, I was glad my face was orange. I didn't want anyone to see the way it turned red from his comment. Whether from anger, embarrassment, or being miffed at the fact he was able to read me better than most, I didn't know.

But I did know that an entire day had passed by, and I still didn't like Black any more than I had when I woke up this morning.

Author's Note: So….what did you think? C: Please tell me your thoughts and leave a review!

Sincerely,

Blue