"Do I know that Rey? Your goal isn't ever to spend time with me, it's to get me to see them. You came to me pretending to be a friend, but I know you were sent to bring me to them. You were a spy for them, a stooge. I care deeply for you, but that was a betrayal," Ben stared at her a long moment, and tilted his head, "I have no desire to be there with them. With you, yes, but I do not want them."
He then scoffed, "All spells can be dangerous. You can turn stairs into slides, and that's a prankster's spell, but someone could snap their neck. I can disarm someone, but that is a physical force. If it struck them hard enough, it could drop them. Your father thinks of the spells as capable of harming whole societies, but the spells aren't the danger, it's the people using them."
He frowned at her question, looking at the touch to his hand, then to her eyes again, "Your father teaches you defensive spells, as he taught me. But what do you know of the dark arts? Nothing, because the school fears them, your father fears them. Yet, if we're to defend against them--should we not know them intimately? To defend against them properly? He, like the Professors, doesn't trust you, doesn't trust me, any of us to handle them responsibly."