A/N: sorry for the very long delay between chapter 3 and 4. l knew when I was writing Treacherous Affairs and Stopover that I couldn't write two stories simultaneously, so I don't know what possessed me to try again with this story and Between Floors Six and Seven. I'm back on board the Pathways train now.

This chapter's a little short, but I'm battling writer's block, so I'd rather post what I've managed in the hope you'll stay tuned in.

The Hobbity Afterlife

Draco knocked on Lucy's hobbity door. Cedric watched from the hobbity garden gate, in case Draco did a runner to... Merlin knew where. There was nowhere else to go.

"Come in!" trilled a voice that sounded like angels jingling a trio of delicate bells.

Draco heaved the heavy door open and slid inside. Cedric, satisfied that his annoying charge had done what he was supposed to do - for a change - skipped off to the pub.

Inside, Draco closed the door, turned around and gaped in wordless wonder. In the centre of the warm and cosy circular parlour was Lucy, who'd just set a tea tray down on a low table, and used wordless magic to set out the cups, pour the tea and place cupcakes on two wee side plates.

This domestic tableau, however, wasn't the cause of Draco's shock. That was reserved for the witch herself, who, while bustling around the parlour like a mother hen, was completely and utterly naked.

Lucy looked up from her domestic bliss and peered at Draco in concern. "My word, you look like you've seen a ghost!" she exclaimed.

A strangled sound crept out of Draco's throat. It sounded rather similar to a goat in the latter stages of a difficult labour.

Lucy looked down to find the object of Draco's cross-eyed stare, which were, unsurprisingly, her breasts. She laughed, understanding having dawned. "Didn't Cedric tell you I'm a naturist?"

Draco's response sounded eerily close to the sound made by a chicken who looked up and discovered that the sky was descending upon its head at a rapid pace. Like Mother, like Lucy, he grizzled to himself. Is this what happens after you've been here a while? You throw your clothes off and prance around like pagans?

"You don't mind, do you?"

Mind? Of course he didn't mind. Nothing could be farther from the truth. "Not at all. You do you."

Lucy's cheeks dimpled, and she sat on a comfy two-seater and poured the tea. "You can take your clothes off, too, if you like."

And spend the rest of this 'counselling session' constantly hiding his erection? Nah, pass.

"Maybe another time," he said neutrally, and selected the nearest armchair to plonk into. Then he leapt up again.

"Something wrong?" Lucy asked.

"Um, where does Diggory normally sit?" Draco demanded. And, more to the point, does he sit there naked?

Lucy patted the seat next to her. "He normally sits here," she replied, amused. "Does that suit you?"

Having the grace to blush, Draco resat himself, accepted the cup of tea Lucy passed his way, and prepared for the worst.

"We don't get many Death Eaters here, you know," Lucy remarked, crossing her long, naked legs.

"Yeah, Diggory said that," Draco mumbled. He took a sip of the tea. Fuck, it was hot! After magically cooling the tea down a tad, he offered up a question. "Do you know why I'm here, then?"

Lucy blinked. "Excellent question!" she enthused. "I might be able to figure it out in detail after we've had a few chats, but based on what Cedric told me - the management briefed him when they appointed him as your buddy, you see – I imagine it's to do with your two final acts on Earth. You saved a girl's life" –

"Well, I'm not completely sure I did," Draco said doubtfully. "She's really ripped up. And I contributed." His stomach lurched, the way it always did when he had to conduct interrogations and he couldn't weasel out of them with a decent excuse.

"Your action saw that she received Muggle care, did it not?"

Draco shrugged. Medieval as it was... "I guess..?"

"And let's not forget your ultimate sacrifice," Lucy continued. "Rather than spend another minute in that awful place, you got out, the only way you could. On your terms, and fully expecting to spend eternity in a place that wouldn't be too much worse than what Voldemort could dish out. Am I right?"

Draco felt something unravel from around his chest. He could breathe a little easier. "I think you are," he replied. He looked up from his tea hopefully. "Are we done?"

Lucy laughed. What a joyous sound it was. "Try a cupcake," she suggested. "They're yummy."

Draco took a bite of one. Despite its fluffy deliciousness, it was a little tainted by his knowledge that he had a lot of secrets weighing him down. Awful, horrible, disgusting secrets. The thought of polluting lovely Lucy's head and hobbity home with their foulness caused that funny band of something to wrap around his chest again.

Lucy winced in sympathy behind her cuppa. The poor, poor bastard.

To Draco's surprise, an hour flew by, and Lucy was upstanding, piling dishes onto the tea tray and enthusing about another visit. If he wanted.

Even if he didn't want to, the vision of Lucy's naked lusciousness made it more than worthwhile.

As she escorted Draco to the door, a thought occurred to him. "Who or what is the 'management' you mentioned earlier?"

"Oh, they're our esteemed elders. They sort of run the show," Lucy replied. "It's a revolving committee, with elections and all. One can't run the Afterlife forever, you know."

Draco supposed not.

At the door, Lucy pecked Draco chastely on the cheek and gave him and all-too-brief naked hug. "You did brilliantly today," she said proudly. Draco's chest puffed up the merest smidge.

Saying his goodbyes, he opened the door – and received another massive shock to his system. His poor bod will surely expire by the end of the week if this keeps up.

For no longer was Draco staring out over a pretty English hobbity vista. Instead, he found himself staring at a white painted handrail, polished decking and an expanse of deep blue-green ocean that travelled to the horizon and beyond. A hot sun beat down, and seagulls flapped, shrieked and crapped where they saw fit.

Lucy looked over Draco's shoulder. "Oh, brilliant!" she enthused, clapping her hands. "It's the cruise ship Afterlife! I'm going to get some serious sunbathing in."

True to her word, Draco noticed that Lucy was now clad in what must be the world's tiniest bikini. It fit tiny parts of her like a glove. It seemed more scandalous than her nudity.

"Looking good there, Draco!" Lucy continued, winking at him and looking... down.

Draco followed her path and shrieked when he realised that he was clad in nothing but a tiny red pair of swimming briefs. A thong-style pair of swimming briefs.

He shrieked again and sped off down the deck like a bat out of hell, hands covering both his forward and backward private bits.

Lucy laughed and skipped off to her bedroom to find her water wings.

A/N: next chapter - Hermione leaves hospital