Clock Tower

Aerea had come all the way from the West Tower Owlery to the Clock Tower, desiring solitude. He felt a little bad for avoiding Professor Chapelle the way he did, perhaps just a slight touch, but not bad enough to leave now that he was seated near the glass and among the gear works of the great clock itself, alone. For once.
Since coming here, his mind had been plagued with his summer spent back home. But more than that, he was perfectly destroyed by the thought of having to admit to his brother all that had happened during that time. It was enough to crush his poor heart. He held his hands out on front of him, and found them to be shaking.
He sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss, clenching his hands into fists, digging his nails into his skin till he felt blood. But it was nothing. The bruises along the side of his face were nothing. The pain in his chest was nothing. It's all nothing to me... he told himself. He wrapped his arms around his legs, drawing his knees against his chest, and he huddled there quietly, eyes closed to the world.

Hearing a voice break through the sound of the gears and the thoughts in his mind, he lifted his head and looked up to see Zel. Quickly, he ducked his head back down, hiding his face again. "It's nothing, I'm fine," he insisted, drawing himself in closer as he pressed back against the wall. Zel was probably the kindest person he knew, but he hated to burden her with things. It felt like cruel and unusual punishment. She had enough to deal with as it was, and he felt the last thing she needed was someone else's burdens to be laid on her shoulders.

Aerea sighed softly. "I know," he said. It certainly felt like a long time to him too. He was terrible at making friends, hence why he had none. But he was even worse at being friends once he got them. He always pushed them away, for fear of hurting them if they got too close. But Zel was careful in her persistence, and she had a stamina no one else really had to deal with his constant distancing. He felt even guiltier now as he realized the burden he must be putting on her. She was worrying about him, and he was treating her cruelly for it. He dropped his arms and lifted his head, leaning back against the wall with a defeated sigh. He now had a black and purple mark down the side of his face where he had been hit. "I'm sorry, Zel," he said quietly.

"You are a good friend to me," he said. "But i've been nothing but a terrible friend in return, and for that I am truly sorry." He wrapped his arms around his legs again, staring out the window. "Classes are alright," he said after a while. "I guess. They're much the same as the year before, though Defense Against the Dark Arts is said to be very promising this year. Which would be fun."

And then, will you think less of me if I backstab you? He could answer that question before it really came to mind. It was pretty straightforward after all. No sane person would like being betrayed. Aerea hated it himself, though he tolerated it quietly, bearing the brunt of those betrayals for years to follow and more to come.
"We had better to get to class," he said, looking at the gears and turning things all about them.

Aerea reached up and took her hand, not pulling too hard as he stood to his feet. Rubbing carefully at his injured face, he replied, "Um, I think we have choir next," he said, glancing at the clock to check. Sure enough, it was that time already.

Aerea led the way back down the spiraling clock tower steps. "We'd better hurry or we'll be late," he said." And that would mean less points for SLytherin. They'd get in trouble with their whole house if they did that.