Loki staggered backward until he hit the wall, his hand coming up to clutch desperately at his chest as he was hounded by unequivocal anguish and regret. Potter was right; he did not know nearly enough about the witch he loved, and that was a tragedy unto itself. Harry was watching him, but he didn’t care. He let the mortal wizard see his emotional breakdown, brief as it was. With a few deep, even breaths he was able to regain his composure, standing back at his full height as he stared down at Potter. He nodded for the wizard to continue, already knowing what would come next.