The Pureblood witch shifted uneasily on her feet, standing on the sidewalk as she tried her best to not make eye contact with any of the people passing by. She'd never actually been in Muggle London before, as far as she remembered. It was so overwhelming, the way she had to make sure her wand was hidden securely underneath her sleeve and that she'd used the Color-Changing Charm on her eyes for them to appear a rather gentle emerald green rather than the starting orchid purple she was born with. Growing up sheltered in a traditionalist family, Regina had heard her fair share of the olden times where Muggles burnt wizards and witches on stakes, learnt about it even. Nowadays, their existence was only a myth to the Muggle world. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel vulnerable in such an unfamiliar territory. She disliked - loathed, even - the feeling of vulnerability. Technically, she no longer had the Trace and could cast magic in front of Muggles in the case of an emergency. But Regina really would rather not get in trouble when her freshly graduated brothers had started working at the Ministry.

As for the reason why a typical Pureblood Heir would be found in a common place like this, well...Regina had been looking for an excuse to get out of the Miller manor for a while. She wrote a letter to Samantha and strapped it to Athena's leg before releasing her owl to the Ravenclaw's destination. She'd told her parents she was going to visit a friend, though omitted about the truth of who that friend was. They would never let her out if they knew she was in cahoots with a Muggleborn.

The thing about lying, was that you had to make sure you wouldn't be found out. So despite her own wariness, she set up a meeting in the city - a significant distance away from where the manor was located in West London, hidden from Muggle eyes. The Gryffindor thought it would be easier this way for Samantha to come see her. Now, if only that girl would hurry up before Regina regretted being here. Though she had an aloof expression, there was a constant churning inside her stomach as she quietly observed the strange world so different from her own. She hadn't chosen to take Muggle Studies as her elective class, because she saw no purpose to. But now she was wondering whether that had been a mistake - she knew nothing of the way Muggles functioned.

It was incredibly humiliating to admit she didn't actually know something. Regina prided herself on her intelligence and yet, this was truly a terrible predicament.