The next day while walking to lunch, I felt her brush past me in the hallway amidst whispers of "slut" and "incest whore". Those that didn't say anything cast looks of disgust towards her. There were a few who expressed their sympathy, but most just stared with cold eyes.

"Hey, Fred." I nudged my brother who was standing next to me. "What are they saying about Sylvia?"

"You haven't heard? She was - well - you see - her father - he did a lot of - very bad things to her - just awful. That's why she tried to kill herself that night."

"Oh, God. I had no idea." I didn't know what else to say. I was in shock.

"Yeah. She had to go through that for years, poor thing. It's terrible. No one should have to live in fear like that."

"No. No one."

I glanced at her sitting there - alone - at one of the long, wooden tables in the Great Hall, and I just got this really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to do something - anything to make her forget about her troubled past. She shouldn't have to be alone with her memories forever.

"You like her, don't you?" Fred asked.

"What makes you say that?" I asked maybe a little too defensively.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you didn't leave her side for three straight days, and when you look at her, like you are just now, it's more than obvious that you want to take her into your arms and hold her."

"Very Harlequinn romance novel-ish, little brother."

"Well, you know it's true."

"Yes." I said.

I did want to. She was crying now. I could see the tears sliding down her delicate cheeks. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to dry her tears and make her smile again like she had the night before.

"Then go over there and do it, or I'll be forced to lapse into romance novel dialogue until you do."

"Alright. Wish me luck."

"You don't need any. Just go." He said ushering me in Sylvia's direction.

When I reached my destination, I sat down next to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Cheer up, love. It's alright." I said.

Sylvia picked her head up, which was resting in her hands, and looked at me. She looked right into my eyes. At that moment, I wanted to cry with her. Her face was stained with disconsolate tears of self-pity, and her eyes were red from crying. That feeling in my stomach I had felt earlier was back and much stronger.

"How is it alright?" she said half-sobbing. "Tell me. How? You've heard what they're saying about me, I'm a slut - an incest whore. That's what they're calling me. How can you say everything's alright?" With that, she collapsed into my arms burying her face in my shoulder.

I held her. I held her in my arms and told her it was going to be okay. I told her that I knew she wasn't a whore, that she was a beautiful, special girl. I did all I could to get her to stop crying.

"Please don't cry. It's going to be okay. I know things seem like they can't get any worse, but, if your right, and they can't, they can only get better right?"

She picked her head up and looked at me again. This time, she placed her hand on my cheek before she spoke.

"They will?" she asked hesitantly.

"They will." I assured her.

She let out a long sigh that turned into a sob as she let her head fall back onto my chest.

"I really believe you, so, please don't lie to me just to make me feel better." She said.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Sylvia."

"Good. I'm tired of being lied to." She replied.

By the time lunch was over, she had managed to compose herself. I walked with her until we reached the staircase. Before we parted ways, I kissed her, this time of the cheek. She smiled again, broader than before, and continued on her way.

"I think that went very well," said a voice from behind me. "The innocent little peck on the cheek was a nice touch."

"'Lo, Fred." I said turning to greet my brother.

"So, are you going to see her tonight?" he asked anxiously.

"What? What gave you that idea?" (Who does he think he is prying into my personal life like that?)

"C'mon! It would be perfect."

"But what if she doesn't want to? I'll feel like an idiot. Don't you think it's a little too soon?"

"There's no time like the present, dear brother. Now, listen. You're going to write her a note saying you want to meet her on the third floor staircase at 10 o'clock tonight. Don't say anything more. You'll be more mysterious."

"Mysterious?"

"Yes. Mysterious. Now, when she shows up."

"What makes you so sure she will show up?"

"Trust me. When Sylvia shows up, take her outside to the old oak tree near the west wing of the castle. Bring a blanket. It'll be cold, and you two will be able to get all warm and cuddly."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Yes. I have. Now, tonight, Venus is closer to the earth than it's been in a thousand years. It'll be just perfect. You two snuggle bunnies will be able to cozy up and look at the stars together - very romantic."

"I don't believe I've ever heard you say snuggle bunnies. You're starting to worry me."

"Shut up! I'm only trying to help you out. So, are you going to do it?"

"Although, I am quite disturbed by your choice of wording, you do have a good plan."

"So, you're gonna do it, then?"

"Yes."

"Awesome! Here. Give her this when you see her in the hallway." Fred produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and placed it in my hand. I opened it.

"It's blank." I said.

"Wait." He replied peering over my shoulder to look at the paper.

Slowly, words began to appear across the torn piece of parchment: "Meet me on the third floor staircase at 10:00."

"Very cool." I said.

"Thank you. I know - I'm a genius." He replied. "Now, hurry up and find her."

"Off I go then. Hey! Wait. Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you do all this for me?"

"Because you're my brother, and besides, you're too stupid to think of these things yourself."

"Well, thanks."

"Any time. Now, go on!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm going."