Class had ended and Benedict knew the time had come. Some small part at the back of his mind had continually reminded him throughout the entire class that he had scheduled a talk with Marlene McKinnon today. He had been giving serious consideration to sitting McKinnon down for a chat for a couple of weeks now, ever since her strange remarks during the billywig incident. The professors were all discouraged from having favourites among the students, but it was a rule that more than a couple of Benedict's colleagues ignored. Some more blatantly than others, he thought, reflecting on Horace's little "club". In any case, Benedict did have his own handful of students that he didn't find quite so tedious as the rest of them, and Marlene McKinnon was one of them. Perhaps he was just being paranoid - frankly, he hoped he was - but it would put his mind at ease to hear it from her.
She had been the one who had agreed to come of her own free will though, as opposed to him having to demand she show up, so, Benedict decided as the classroom cleared, perhaps she might not be too unwillingly to talk to him about whatever was going on with her. Or maybe she would just try a polite brush-off and then clam up completely. What was he supposed to do then? Benedict frowned to himself as he saw the girl herself approaching his desk. He knew there was a reason he normally avoided student-teacher-heart-to-hearts.
But when she smiled, Benedict smiled back, hoping to reassure her that she wasn't in any sort of trouble. "Yes, Miss McKinnon, thanks for staying." He glanced at the classroom door as the last of the retreating sixth years left and, after a brief moment of contemplation, walked over and closed it. "I hope you don't mind?" he asked her. "I can keep it open if you like, but I find that open doors never fail to invite irritating interruptions of all sorts."
He headed back to his desk, but one of those teacher-ly lessons about how to make people comfortable popped into his head suddenly. So he went to the first row of desks instead and pulled out two chairs, so that they could both sit down, instead of McKinnon being forced to stand while he sat behind a desk in front of her. He gestured for her to come sit down. "Well, Miss McKinnon," he started, hoping he didn't sound as awkward as he felt. Maybe he needed to attempt to talk to students one-on-one more often, if only for the practice. "I realize how horribly cliche this sounds, but I've mostly just been wondering how you've been doing recently."