"All right," he says, not more quietly, because that would be silence, but in a way that re-allows the idea of oxygen and other people in the world. With the tension draining, he's able to use a more relaxed, an earnest tone, to say, "Maybe you're right--but, on the other hand, they don't have enormous threats to try and fend off anymore and take their attention off everything small. They can give heed to unaffiliated dark wizards now, crack down on Knockturn, and make sure the wizarding world is secret and safe, with no room for dark ambitions to rise again or unmagical curiosity--and muggles have always found magic to to be romantic and entrancing, even and perhaps especially when it terrifies them into jihad--to find chinks in our walls to seep into."
"Weren't you the one who had me taught to watch more of people than the immediate future of their wands and fists?" he counters, raising an equally amused eyebrow.