regulus black had no thirst for blood, nor did he have any semblance of a desire to kill. regardless of his notoriety as a death eater, he’d managed to evade being responsible for too many deaths. bigotry still stained his outlook on who was worthy of living.

regulus was somewhat relieved when he’d heard the purge was a thing that plagued only america. but it seemed many other influential governments agreed with this as a cure to their crime rates, as word began to spread. gradually, the purge did, too. first it wreaked havoc in america, but now it was destroying the streets and lands of france, australia, etc.

and two nights ago, he overheard that the british government was implementing this, too.

tonight was the night of the purge, yes, and regulus had never dreaded something quite so much. perhaps if it had only been humans participating, he wouldn’t be so on edge.

but the wizards ministry had approved it, too. and rhydian was concerned, even if he refused to admit so.

his initial solution had been to hide himself within the walls of black manor—nobody would dare to attempt to enter the house.

then he realised the black manor was a target, of sorts, for all the bitter purebloods and the hostile halfbloods. and so he was roaming the streets. it was around nine pm; two hours had passed since the beginning of the purge, and flesh and blood disgraced the streets.

disgusted, he averted his gaze. he’d evaded the purgers, thus far. he wasn’t certain if he’d be lucky for much longer—but he had a destination in mind. if only he could travel there a bit quicker—

snap.

regulus swivelled at breakneck speeds, his spine stiffening and his grip tightening on his wand once he heard the sound behind him. and that was when he spotted you, looking relatively harmless.