"This remains war, Harry," Where James voice was etched with that haunting sort of sadness, Regulus" was cold, hard; edged with something terrifying that sent chills up Harry's spine and warmed him all the same. He watched the energy crackle around him, lifting his robes and rustling his hair. Black as night, which seemed fitting. It was so easy to forget just how strong both Regulus and Sirius were. The might of their lineage. The strength of their name alone. The Blacks were feared. The Blacks were revered. The Blacks were the utter incarnation of raw power. "Cruel as it is. Unfair as it is. This remains war. And there are hard choices to make. Right choices that will end up being wrong. Wrong choices that can never be corrected. Mistakes will be made. And they will never be unmade," Harry wanted to tell them they weren't doing very good at the whole pep talk thing, but there was an intensity singing in the air; heavy like hymn. So he swallowed and steadied his footing. 