"I can't say that I had the pleasure to see this side of her," he said. "You sound almost... fond of her. You certainly weren't when we were in school." Regulus didn't particularly hate McGonagall, not the way he hated Dumbledore, but he certainly didn't like her. "Only if they are terrible children from terrible families. Some of us were perfect angels with amazing skills."
He shrugged. "Maybe, but let's not pretend that any of us understand love magic. It's almost as foreign as time magic and we know how well that's going for us at the moment." He had been wondering about that since Ron mentioned that Potter was the last horcrux. "By not well understood, you mean that very few people even know it exists."
That made sense in a strange way. "He wanted to be me, but trusted you. Once I find out what he was, a lot of what he did made a lot more sense. Of course a lot could have been spared if only Dumbledore had let it be known sometime around 1960 that he was a half-blood, but why be logical." Since they were going down the bitterness road, he might as well add his own. "He is dead, so is Dumbledore and we hope that they don't come back. Until then, we need to figure out what to do. There are no wizards left in Britain and while we were allowed to go to Diagon Alley, I don't know what the castle would do if we just left." Not that they had any place to go at this point. "We do have more pressing matters, like the full moon. There was no time to make the wolfsbane, not that I've ever made it."