Benedict sighed. In his experience, teenagers were never "fine". But neither were they ever very eager to discuss their problems. And certainly not with authority figures. No doubt this held true for Marlene McKinnon too, no matter how good a student she was. But he just knew that something was bothering her; her billywig-induced comments had indicated as much.
He ran a hand through his hair and tried for a solemn-but-concerned expression, hoping that it came out better than he was suspecting it did. "Well, it was just something you said a couple of weeks ago. And I'm afraid that it just made me feel a bit concerned for you. About how you're feeling around your housemates these days? My guess is that the climate in Slytherin these days is probably..." He struggled for a good word, "tense, I suppose. With, you know." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "Everything. I just wanted to check on you, as it were. To see if eveything's okay?"
He hoped that sounded less like preaching and more like actual concern and that - just maybe - she might see it for the genuine offer to help that it was. He wasn't going to force her to talk to him if she didn't want to, though. And, seeing as he had always made a point about avoiding this sort of thing as much as he could in the past, he didn't really have the experience to know what else to say that might prompt her out of her shell of her own free will. Maybe it was all he could really do to just let her know that his 'office door would always be open' or whatever rubbish it was that Dumbledore was always telling them to tell their potentially troubled students. It always sounded like a load of bollocks to Benedict when the Headmaster said it, and he couldn't imagine that it would sound much better when he said it to Marlene, but he wasn't about to thumbscrew her to get her to talk.