[Alucard does not mean to eavesdrop. He is sitting quietly with his own small stack of books, focused not on magic or theory or anything, but fiction. A mystery novel this time, with a hard boiled faun detective trying to recover a missing magical artefact of some great note. It is silly. Predictable. Wonderful for those two reasons, and something Alucard has to admit, is not the kind of indulgence he'd ever expect of himself.

And yet here he is enjoying a dumb novel when a voice he knows pipes up about oh, necromancy.

He can't help it. It is a knee jerk response. Alucard is still himself.]

I'm fairly sure that the moment you try to use the term "responsible necromancy" is the moment an entire society begins to justify the harassing of the dead for pettier and pettier reasons.