"I don't watch many films," he said, sounding horrified, mostly to the suggestion that they kill everyone. "They are sentient beings. We can't just kill everyone that could possibly pose a danger. I have friends who are werewolves, good people. They don't hurt anyone. We have werewolves in our force. It's... we can't kill them. It's wrong."
He covered her hand. "He hated us long before I met you. Don't take on this responsibility. I know how it feels to want to take everything on your shoulders."
Before he could say more, she was hugging, and he laughed. "Of course, we can, and yes, you're famous. You are the only Muggle at St. Mungo's, brought in by James Potter. Something must be going on."