AN: Geez, I wasn't sure I'd ever finish this thing. I really just scrapped my older version and came up with this in a few hours after being inspired by re-reading some reviews. Yeah, bad, I know, but who doesn't have a weak spot for them?

At any rate, I hope this doesn't disappoint. I really would like a beta, if anyone is interested…?

Chapter 4

Navigating the suburbs of London.

Navigating the suburbs of London.

"Next time I'm taking a fucking taxi," Kagome snarled to herself, flinging her purse over her shoulder as she exited the train for the umpteenth time with her baggage in tow. "Kensington, Kensington Station…"

She pressed her lips together as she slung her things down on a nearby bench and unfolded a pocket map. "Kensington Station, it is…fucking hell."

It was the previous stop, meaning that she'd have to take the whole merry-go-round circle again.

Crumpling the map into a tight wad of paper before chucking it onto the tracks was therapeutic, and afterwards Kagome just leaned her head back against the wall. Vibrations thudding against her head warned her of a train coming down the tracks—it passed. She sighed. A nearly nine-hour flight with lay-overs had taken its toll on her; she was exhausted, cranky, and not a little peeved at the world in general.

Duly a thought occurred to her that she hadn't used the facilities for some time—that, and a little food wouldn't kill her either. Lifting her head, Kagome looked around. The map has suggested that the walk to Kensington wasn't too terribly far if she took surface streets. That she had a small mountain of baggage was something of a deterrent, but…

Kagome gave it a moment of grave consideration.

Her bones creaked as she stood, hefting the handle of the largest rolling suitcase and balancing her other two packs on it. The purse was a last edition, slinging over her shoulder to gently bump her opposite leg. She glared at it. It was thoroughly unapologetic.

Grimacing, Kagome headed up the stairs.

*

Three hours and several misadventures later, Kagome was all but dead on her feet. Victory stood before her, the finish line, personified in a grim gray marble façade and a beautiful revolving door.

A revolving door. Kagome let out a sigh that was almost a sob and contemplated the last hurdle. The doorman gave her a curious look from behind the glass.

"Excuse me, Miss? Do you need help?" The voice belonged to a young man, only a few years older perhaps, whose bright copper hair hung in a messy fringe over his eyes. That, and the kind of gentle, non-threatening smile—she must look pretty bad, Kagome realized, for strangers to be treating her like she still had her hospital tags on that marked her as an invalid—and the hair rather brought to mind the image of a great big sheepdog.

"Umm, sure," Kagome said, resigned. "The door?"

"Of course. Here, let me take that," He said, offering a hand to take the handle of her suitcase. They strode through and he nodded to the doorman, "Hey Sean."

"Hey yourself," The man responded, sitting and flicking his newspaper open.

"You live here?" Kagome asked as they neared the front desk. As they approached, he swung the side door open and let himself behind the counter.

"Work here," he corrected, shrugging. "Name?"

"Kagome Higuarashi. I should already have reservations, I think. Pre-paid." She said. His eyes flickered over the computer screen before he reached into the till to swipe a keycard and hand it to her.

"I'll help you up myself," he offered, and Kagome accepted gratefully. Her head hurt, her legs ached, and she could honestly think of nothing better than to simply pass out on a reasonably horizontal surface.

He left her in the room's foyer, bags safely stowed inside the door. Kagome breathed a sigh and simply took it all in. The room hovered in the twilight, a kind of dim gloom filtering in through the windows to illuminate dull shapes—it was a pretty spacious room, she reflected. There was even a little kitchenette and table tucked away next to a couch.

Kagome turned, pulling her hair out of her ponytail as she did so so it fell in straggly curls down her back. "Damn," she muttered savagely, swinging her purse up and over her shoulder so she could hurl it onto the foot of the bed.

Her fingers inched along the wall until they had found a light switch.

"I wouldn't do that, Ms. Higuarashi." Her fingers froze in an instant. Gods, she must be going fucking crazy to start hearing things. "Take your hand away from the switch, please. I think I prefer to remain in darkn—"

Kagome's fingers acted of their own accord as they flicked the switch. Seated on her couch was a young man, pale blonde hair a stark contrast to his dark…dress? He was glaring at her with some asperity, annoyance palpable.

"Please, was that really necessary?" The voice was chilly. "I am Mr. Malfoy, here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Do you think you would care to explain today's events?"

Kagome blinked. "No, I'm good thanks." The thought Don't talk to figments of your imagination! It only encourages them! dashed across her mind and she fought the urge to giggle.

The gray eyes that looked across at her brooked no argument. Withdrawing a short stick from the inside of his dress, he brandished it at her and muttered a quick word.

Kagome simply stared.

AN: Oh damn, they're all OOC . I'll fix it if anyone has any suggestions. I think the problem rather lies with Draco…I should mention that yeah, it's AU—meaning that it'll have very little relation to the canon, plot-wise.

Maybe I should make Draco meaner…

Review? I know I'm shamelessly extorting you all, but they are what made me update in the first place...?