She was watching him; he could feel her eyes. She was waiting for him to say something, explain why he was here. Well, at least she hadn't gotten up and walked away. That was encouraging, a little.
He sat there, feet on the second step below him, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring down at his hands as they fidgeted slightly. How had he even thought about doing this, let alone think it would be possible?
Was he really going to tell her how he felt? Everything? This wasn't possible. What would happen next? Even if she did believe him…his father was going to kill him. He couldn't think about that. All that mattered right now was her, making her understand. He had to make her understand. It was all he could give her.
He cleared his throat. "Listen, okay? Just…just listen. I won't…just listen." What a weak start!
She nodded beside him.
"I'm sorry. Some of the things I said the other night were…nothing short of cruel and you didn't deserve it." He stood and started pacing back and forth on the step in front of her.
"All I know is that when I looked in your eyes on the train in September I felt like the world had stopped turning. It seemed so horribly wrong to find that kind of emptiness in you, and in no one else acted like they had noticed anything." He paused for a moment to look at her; she had apparently been watching him as he paced. He couldn't look at her long; he didn't want to attempt to read her face.
"Once we got here," he resumed his pacing, "I watched you. It was like a cloud had settled and followed you around, separating you from everyone else. Again, no one else seemed to notice, they all treated you, looked at you, like they always had, like nothing was wrong. It was disturbing. The darkness that had claimed you belonged to us, to Slytherin. The sharp contrast…I don't know!" He stopped pacing again, but this time faced out, away from her. He was so confused. He couldn't even explain this bit to himself. He had to move on. He would stand there rambling forever and she wouldn't understand a word of it. It would probably frighten her because he probably sounded like a madman. Well, if he had gone mad it was her fault.
Turning abruptly to face her, he almost shouted, "I don't know why in bloody hell it bothered me so bad but it did. It turned everything upside down and sideways until I couldn't tell what direction I was coming from anymore. All I knew was that if it wasn't corrected I would lose my bloody mind." He turned and sat down again. He shouldn't have shouted at her. He was falling apart. How could he make it through this? He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down and stop the building panic. He took a deep breath. He was getting to the hard part, the part where he started to care.
His voice continued, almost too faint for her hear as he talked to the grounds before them. "Then I saw you in the storm. You looked so small and fragile out there. I couldn't leave you there, alone. I was sure you would push me away, refuse my help, but you didn't, not even when you realized who I was." He hung his head. "It…seeing you like that…you've been so strong for so long. It made me angry that they had left you here alone." His voice trembled with the still very real anger. He couldn't believe they would leave her alone when she was so obviously troubled by something. He couldn't believe they didn't even know she was troubled.
She slowly moved down so she was sitting beside him.
He immediately stood and started pacing again. He was trying to forget that she was there. He was trying to convince himself he was talking to the wind. How the hell had she done this to him? She was just sitting there. His nerves were really beginning to get to him. He hated feeling nervous. He had to get this whole bloody thing over with. "Then, when you curled up next to me…Gah! You had no right to do that!" he turned and yelled at her. Resuming his pacing, he continued. "But you did! You shouldn't trust me! You shouldn't be comfortable around me! I'm supposed to hate you! I'm not supposed to protect you! You're a blood traitor! You're poor! You're beneath me! But there I sat, holding you! Worse than that, it felt good!"
He stopped and turned back to the ground, balled his fists and gave a strangled yell. He really did not want to continue. "It scared me. I had to fight it. I had to get things back the way they're supposed to be." His feet started moving and he was pacing again. He took a deep breath. He was reliving all of the emotions he had felt over the past four months in one conversation. It was exhausting. When he spoke next, his voice was soft again. "I saw you again, out on the grounds this morning. I saw you dancing. I saw you fall." He paused again to look at her. She looked so concerned.
Taking a seat next to her, he started talking to her shoes. "I…it hurt…to watch you. What you said was true. I do know what it means to be alone. I knew then, watching you, wishing with everything in me that knew how that you weren't alone, I knew then what it feels like to want to keep someone safe, protect them. If that is what everyone feels…" He turned to face her, his eyes begging her to understand. "All I've ever known is my father and what he is. I don't understand anything else. Now, though, I can't…I can't…the two worlds cannot coexist." He hid his face from her yet again.
He brought his hands up, laced his fingers through his hair, and held his head "While I held you I wasn't alone anymore. I was wanted, I was needed." He dropped his hands again and looked at her with desperation and pleading in every feature. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried not to care. I'm sorry I tried not to…feel." He hung his head even lower than before and brought his hands up to his neck like he was hiding. "I'm sorry."