Sirius had been spending the past few days hating himself even more so than usual--he'd loathed himself enough for ruining Remus the way he had (he wanted to ruin him with kisses, ruin him for everyone else, ruin him with night where they stole touches with hands on soft skin with rough scars, ruin Remus as thoroughly as he had ruined Sirius), and then he went and kissed Marlene. The girl was one of the best friends he had, and of course he went and cocked that up because he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He'd been avoiding her, worrying he'd given her the wrong idea, and hoping just not speaking to her would do the trick.
Marlene, though, was a persistent creature, and of course she caught him eventually. He wasn't expecting, though, for her to hang him in the air by the ankles, and his eyes went wide as she approached him. "I could talk to you much better right side up," he managed, trying to play it cool. He was startled by the sudden jerking of his legs over his head; he'd been worried at first that there were a band of Slytherins seeking revenge. He'd been on his own so much lately he was a (seemingly) easy target. Seemingly, of course, because after the first time he'd been hexed in the hallway, he'd made the aggressors regret that choice so much he'd not been touched again. "You could, um, let me down. And we'd talk," he suggested, trying to avoid her eyes.
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