There, that was it, the calm of the storm inside the girl's eyes. It was buried for now, asleep, but steadily burning. Harry understood that, too. He knew what it was like to be afraid, to take power so no one could ever hurt you again. It hurt his heart that this young girl had to learn such things, had to desire them. They should be protected from the world, taught cleanly and clearly and given better than what they had.
Kids. God.
Harry's heart beat steadily and the Mantle paced, telling him now. Now she was unaware, she was weak, look at her cry those pretty little tears. Give her a real reason to cry, make her beg. Harry started counting primes to stop that presence that demanded those things. "A lot of things want to kill me a lot of the time, it's a natural state of being at this point," he quipped, not the least bit (openly) perturbed by her statement. As for why he cared?
"Because I've been you," he said. "I've seen what happens when no one steps in to help however someone can. I can't fix it for you, no one can. But there's no reason you have to go it alone here." Harry stepped closer cautiously and gently touched her shoulder. He didn't want to frighten her. Scare her away, or make her panic fire at him.
"Because when I was your age all I wanted in the whole world was for someone to tell me it's okay to feel the things I was feeling, as long as I knew the difference between wanting and acting on it. Wanting doesn't make us bad people. It just makes us people with desires." He shrugged slightly. "Hi, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Harry Dresden," and as he spoke, he pulled out a white handkerchief, the kind in which he'd stored sunlight once, and offered it to her to dry her face.
"If you want, we can talk about the theories I've got running on what's keeping us here, and you can tell me yours. We'll see where they intersect and if there's not something we can do about it together."