Camden suddenly smiled, serene. Like hell was she giving anyone the book right now. “We’re speaking hypothetically, of course. The book, and its contents, stay with me. Though I do feel the need to remind you that you are speaking to your equal. I will not be patronized or scolded or condescended to, and I will not have my language monitored. I’ve lived with the phrase ‘mudblood’ since I was eleven years old. It’s mine now, to do with it as I please.
"The D’Argentcour experiments were suppressed because the government in place at the time feared them. Someone, probably much like yourself, thought that they were ‘unfit’ for public consumption and suppressed them because the idea of a public more powerful than their keepers terrified them." She picked up her glass, swirling the wine around before breathing in deeply. "The other reason that these experiments were suppressed is that the D’Argentcours were and are blood supremacists, supporters of eugenics and genocide." More than once she’d imagined what it would have been like had the people actually tried to defend themselves and one another instead of waiting for the government to give them permission, if the power of the oppressors had been placed in the hands of the oppressed.
"Now. On the topic of Dumbledore’s Army 3.0, I want Ginny Weasley involved—smart girl, but an absolute nightmare when you’re trying to think and she’s trying to save the day, so it’ll do her good to direct her energies—and Kensington shouldn’t be told of this. Ever. We’ll need to make sure that doesn’t happen. When, and where, would we be able to meet? Now that the Room of Requirement is public knowledge, it’s not exactly fit for clandestine meetings of revolutionaries."
"You will not use that phrase in my presence," Anita repeated lightly, but her eyes were hard. "I do not have to give you a reason, nor should I have to ask twice - suffice it to say that we have had vastly different experiences with that word, and that I did not grow up in a typical magical household. My father," she started, then broke off, mouth curled down. "I do not have to give you a reason.
"You are my equal, yes - if you weren’t, you would not have been invited here. That said, I have zero intentions of teaching students anything that I have not attempted myself, at least insofar as practical magic goes. I would also like to have it performed on me." She raised her eyebrows. "Defense spells and less passive spells. Even changing languages creates slight variations in an incantation’s effect - an imprint, if you will, but I am sure you know all this, and so you will understand why I would prefer to take every precaution.
"You will also respect me as I have chosen to respect you," she said quite calmly. "You forget who I am and what I have done - my priority is safety, not sanitization, and you would do well to remember it. I will assume that you have also had unstable magics performed on you." She raised her eyebrows. "Or at least hope that you speak from experience. Because to do so without any real understanding of the toll it takes on the body, both the body of the caster and your own, is arrogant and far from what I have learned to expect from you."
She pushed her wineglass away, standing up. “Ginny Weasley,” she remarked. Young revolutionary. “I defer to your judgment. We are in agreement regarding Ms. Kensington. As for clandestine meetings of revolutionaries…” She smiled slightly. “Why not here, in this classroom?” She pointed to each of the four corners of the room. “The privacy spells in place are decidedly illegal - or at least frowned upon by the current administration, not that the previous ones ever viewed foreign spells with much affection. They are quieter than English spells,” she explained, “and so may go undetected when layered with the current protection spells in place, those sanctioned by the castle, et cetera, et cetera.” Her smile grew. “I did this while a student here, when I needed to escape. I could not for the life of me figure out where the Room of Requirement was, so I sought out different ways of making myself hidden. Good practice for what I was to do later, and my travels certainly introduced me to a vast many ways of concealing myself - and others - in plain sight.” If I could survive Afghanistan in ‘82, I can do this.
She turned to face Camden. “Why not create a History Club?” she asked. “Ms. Kensington will be suspicious, yes, but I imagine the students could suffer through a few weeks worth of lecturing from me before Ms. Kensington decides she can afford to survey us peripherally. Particularly if you cause as much of a stir tomorrow as I think you will - you need not be too involved with the History Club, yes? It is easiest, sometimes, to work between the cracks. Though should you wish to test the parameters I have set in place, you may.” She grinned, an invitation.