Xavier was a man of deep control. One had to be when you could connect yourself to the minds of everyone on the planet. Cerebro was a tool to help channel, target and enhance, but Xavier's mind was a well honed tool itself, and could do much on its own.

He could make people forget, he could implant impulses. A telepath could make you jump off buildings if they were skilled enough and so inclined.

Of course Xavier never was. 
Inclined, that is. He was certainly that [i]skilled[/i], and the reality that he [i]could[/i] do those things, easily, simply -as though he were writing a book and dictating the actions of a character, was exactly the reality that kept him in check.

A reality he had to keep a firm hold on if he were ever to see his dream of a peaceable existence between mutants and non-mutants.

All that to say, as much as Xavier kept in control was as much as he [i]appeared[/i] in control; calm in the face of danger, benign. The unassuming old man in a wheelchair. Perhaps Ryder being Xavier's kin wasn't so foreign an idea when considered this way; he played the parts he had to, as well.

In Xavier's case, he never set out to deceive. Wasn't taking in information so he could launch an informed assault. He just. . .knew who he had to be for whom.

Like the teenager who would mouth off with friends, yet be the picture of manners with Grandma. It wasn't that one nature was true and the other false. It was that life prompted different aspects of yourself to be in the driver's seat at different times. Many selves made up the one, including secret selves. 
 
Xavier wasn't looking to expose [i]that[/i] "self" of Ryder, but he suspected there was something less hostile beside and behind the feral survivor who'd had to be in that driver's seat her entire life. Perhaps selves she didn't even acquaint herself with but might find she'd like to know.

All in good time.

And all that to say, Xavier wasn't quite so naive as he appeared, knocking on the wall of a highly fortified structure.
He crossed the threshold with vigilance. Yes, the hook-and-pull still felt as abrupt as you'd expect. Certain nervous reactions cannot be helped; the startle reflex from a sudden noise.

But he didn't feel genuinely afraid.
Instead, Xavier explored this space, running his hand along the peculiar wood paneling, feeling the cold against his fingers; symbolic of what "touch" she's known, he was sure. Staring out the windows into nothingness -a nothing somehow so complete it was like when people said you could "feel" the tension in a room; he felt like he was staring at [i]something[/i]. As Ryder had observed, even negative space had a shape.

In a place so filled with hostility toward an occupant -a [i]captive[/i], it was easy for Xavier to imagine something hiding in that nothing. Like a child's claim of monsters being in all the dark places.

So alive,
yet unreal.

Xavier realized he was bracing himself, and in the next moment he understood; like feeling the shift in the atmosphere before a lightning strike.

[i][b][color=00ffff]YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT, OLD MAN[/color][/b][/i]

Her words crashed through his every cell -as though trying to disconnect any of his that had to do with her, as though she wanted to be left alone on a genetic level.

There are some things in life even the most prepared -even the most prepared [i]mind[/i] cannot fully be ready for. 
Xavier found himself reeling,

and then she was right there before him as though she had been from the first second.
And of course, in a cerebral sense, she had.

A demand and a jacked threat. 
Xavier anticipated something along these lines, yet naive perhaps he still was, as he hadn't expected it quite like this. 

Regardless, he continued to exude calm as he answered her, but the type that could be defined as "careful treading"; picking through the mines. [color=#7393B3]"We have been caring for your healing body. I will not lie and say interest in your mutation isn't also present. Jean is a geneticist, Hank's interests run the gamut, and yes, everyone is curious given your origins. . .But we are not Umbra. You may recall the purpose of this school, which I'm certain you know is where we are, is to [i]help[/i] young mutants, [i]powerful[/i], or not,"[/color] even so early in knowing of her, he spoke with every awareness that Ryder was, perhaps more than anyone he had or would encounter, most definitely in that first category, [color=#7393B3]"to feel [i]safe[/i]. Both within and over their environment. You are not a specimen here, Ryder, nor shall you be treated as one."[/color]  

There was something of a promise there. If there [i]had[/i] been any prodding that skewed more scientific than medical -besides the DNA confirmation which they did perform- there would be no more without consent. Xavier would make certain of that.

He had been explaining "himself" in a general way, but concluded more personally: [color=#7393B3]"I am not interested in [i]what[/i] you are, beyond what you have been in the eyes of others. Only [i]who[/i] you are."[/color] 

Now, there was a different kindness. He may see her as "his", though not so much in the possessive sense. Only a desire for some connection, and, at this point, more for her than for himself. Certainly she'd had none of any kind at Umbra.