And, here it is. Final chapter complete with feels and fluff and funny for all you lovelies.

Thank you so so much for being so kind to a wee writer like me, and for sticking by in the face of complete chaos. Really, thank you all from the bottom of my crazy.

And here it is.

Teensy warning: Piers/Theo was not supposed to happen, but popular demand dictates otherwise. If anyone is squicked by this pairing, avoid the last section.

Summary: In the light of day, it all comes together.

Draco woke up feeling like complete shite. His eyes burned, his throat was dry and the taste in his mouth was vaguely reminiscent of kitchen floor and cheap wine. He didn't know which was worse. Draco whimpered and buried himself in the covers, vaguely noting that they were certainly not his own. Neither was the couch he was currently sprawled across. Vague memories from the night flitted back and forth in his sleep addled head. Something about the Knight Bus and…a hippogriff…oh Merlin, what had he done last night?

Whatever it was, he had a very bad feeling that it was all going to come back to the reason he'd been out drinking in the first place…oh god. What had possessed him to drink that much? Why was he on someone else's couch? And fucking hell, maybe he'd be able to figure this out if that incessant tapping in his head would stop for a fucking minute and…

Draco's eyes shot open as he realized that something was actually tapping at his head. Blinding light assaulted his vision and he whined and attempted to curl and die again. The owl however, did not consider excruciating agony and self loathing as sufficient cause for neglect. He landed gracefully on Draco's arm, hooting indignantly. Draco cracked an eye open- slowly this time- to get a good look at his assaulter.

Th-thanatos?"

His old familiar cocked his head regally and regarded him with judging, beady eyes. Draco had half a second to wonder why his old school owl was here of all places, when the bird lost patience and chastised him with another round of scolding pecks. "Oh, like you've never had a wild night before," Draco muttered, disentangling himself and relieving Thanatos of the letters. There were two and the sight of the Malfoy crest on both of them made him cringe. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he'd gone to the Manor last night and…

"Oh Merlin," Draco moaned. He pried the first letter open with shaking hands. The fact that it wasn't a Howler meant nothing; Father preferred to do his shouting in person. And if half of what he was remembering was even slightly accurate, he was in for more than just a good yelling. Draco groaned and focused on the letter.

Draco

Hopefully, this will reach you before you do something drastic. Your mother and I have been talking about your…situation. Perhaps I was a bit harsh regarding your inclinations towards Potter. I can see now that he is a suitable match for you- a powerful young wizard with a respectable name in the magical world.

I admit that I am not entirely comfortable with your…orientation. However, as your father I wish only for your happiness. Given enough time, it would gladden me to see you settled with an appropriate life partner from good magical stock. Potter is certainly a far better match for you than any (I repeat, ANY) other suitors you may currently be considering.

Your mother and I have discussed this at length, and we will be glad to receive both of you at the Manor, whenever you wish to formally introduce Potter to us.

We hope to see you soon.

In anticipation of your reply

Father

Draco gaped at the letter uncomprehendingly. "What. The. Hell?" His head was still reeling when Thanatos dropped the second letter in his lap and perched on his shoulder. This one was from Mother.

Draco darling

I do hope the owl finds you. He's quite efficient and I seem to recall he was always rather good at seeking you out.

That said I certainly hope you have an explanation for your behaviour last night, young man. It is most unseemly to come to the Manor in the dead of the night, traumatise your father and leave without even saying hello to me. That is not how I raised you.

You will also be glad to know that I have sorted out the mess you made (no need to thank me, I'm just your mother after all). It took two calming potions and a strong dose of Firewhisky, but Father has agreed not to disinherit you or throw any more tantrums about your romantic preferences.

Speaking of which, I'm certain this muggle of yours is a charming fellow. And there is nothing wrong with seeing a muggle boy (aside from the small matter of giving your Father an aneurysm). However, I do seem to recall you walking out on your home and legacy over Harry Potter, so perhaps you should reconsider him? He's certainly a fine catch, darling. You could do worse.

Think about it. And come home soon, sweetheart.

All my love

Mother

PS: If I ever hear about you drinking again, we will be having words. You remember that, Draco Abraxas Malfoy The Third.

Draco tossed the letters away, unable to deal with the sheer deluge of whatthefuck at this point of time. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. It was coming back…slowly and painfully.

The…the muggle in the bar…and then the dog- oh Merlin, the dog! And then he'd…with the…and then the…

"I am never drinking again," Draco muttered out loud, gritting his teeth as his stomach lurched again. Gingerly, he got off the couch. First things first, he needed to figure out where he was. He took a look around the tiny living room…definitely non magical. Maybe he'd crashed at the muggle's place after…

Draco's eyes narrowed suddenly as he caught sight of a photograph on the wall. His stomach twisted and he approached it. Granger, Weasley and Potter waved back cheerfully at him. Draco staggered like a pile of bricks.

Potter's house. He was at Harry bloody Potter's house!

No.

No. No. Oh god no!

That meant that he had most certainly come to see Potter last night. Which meant that…

"Fuck!" Draco groaned. Oh, this was bad. Very very bad. What had he done? What had he said? Surely he hadn't…had he? He couldn't recall a thing about meeting Potter last night, but considering the frame of mind he'd been in, it couldn't have been good.

Well, no one had ever accused Draco of being a Gryffindor. He was getting the hell out of here right now. He looked around frantically, almost praying for his wand. Nothing. Draco cursed. Fucking hell, he needed to leave this place now! He took another round of the room before determining that the damn thing was certainly not there.

The kitchen, maybe? Yes. He had certainly been in the kitchen last night…

Draco shot out of the room and into the hall as if werewolves were chasing him. The kitchen was straight ahead and he barged in, immediately screeching to a halt as he realized he wasn't alone.

The muggle turned, his attention diverted from the eggs he was frying. Brown eyes blinked at him in surprise before a glimmer of recognition set in. Draco blinked back, staring unabashedly at the stocky blond.

Well.

This was awkward.

It was the muggle who broke the silence. "Morning," he greeted carefully.

"Hi," Draco mumbled, looking at the toaster with avid interest. He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Um…where is…"

"The shower," the muggle replied, turning back to the eggs. "He…er…left this for you. Said you might need it?"

Draco took the offered vial, recognizing Hangover Potion when he saw it. He gulped it down, sighing gratefully as the headache receded. "Fuck, that's good."

"I'm more of a coffee and aspirin person myself," the muggle shrugged. "But this is good too."

Draco nodded uneasily. This was way too weird. He almost wished Potter was here. Almost. "So…you're the cousin," he managed finally.

The muggle nodded, offering him a half smile. "And you're the jerk from high school."

Draco managed a weak chuckle. "We probably should have worked the introductions in somewhere last night." He shrugged and held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

"Dudley Dursley," the muggle grinned, shaking it. "Nice to officially meet you." He gestured to the frying pan. "Breakfast?"

Why not? He could always make a run for it if Potter showed up. So they sat together and shovelled in eggs and toast. Draco started as a happy yip sounded behind him. The dog bounded in. He ruffed at Draco in greeting and then scampered over to Dudley, angling for table scraps. Draco stared at the canine, as certain memories came back.

"Um…did I really…"

"Yes," the muggle affirmed.

"And did I call her a…"

"Yes."

"And did I actually…"

"Yes. Yes. And probably."

Draco groaned and slumped over on the table, absently wondering if it was possible to die of mortification. "Sorry about your father," he mumbled. "I don't usually go around threatening people at wand point."

A large hand patted his shoulder and Draco looked up in surprise. "Don't be," Dudley said earnestly. "You did good, actually. I got a call from Dad this morning on my mobile." He paused and pulled out a shiny rectangle from his pocket. Draco assumed that it was the 'mobile'. Dudley went on, oblivious to his musings.

"I didn't even think he had my number anymore but…well, long story short he liked the éclairs. Ate the whole box. And he said he'd come down to the café next weekend and we could catch up. It's…well, it's a start." He smiled at Draco. "Not too bad for a couple of drunk tossers."

Draco grinned back. "I'm not getting disinherited," he offered. "Turns out when adequately traumatised, my father can be a surprisingly reasonable chap. So I guess you did good too."

"We both did. And we make one hell of a team."

Draco managed a smirk, despite all the crazy. "We do. It was…well, fun."

"It was," Dudley nodded. "We should get drunk and tell Potter off again some time."

Draco laughed. "Stupid Potter," he chanted automatically.

"Stupid, stupid Potter."

"Really?" an exasperated voice broke in. "I thought we worked this out."

Draco stiffened as Potter strode into the kitchen, clad in a t-shirt and track pants and towelling off his wet hair. Shit! He should have run when he had the chance. Draco cursed mentally. Dudley merely laughed and shrugged. "Nothing personal, Harry. It's just a thing. You won't understand."

"I never do," Potter agreed, walking over with the hint of a smile at his lips. "You need a ride home, Big D?"

"Nah," Dudley replied. "I'll get a cab." Draco watched with mild interest as he shook hands with Potter. "You have my number, right?"

Potter smiled. "I do. We'll keep in touch, Dudley. I'll stop by for that peach torte you kept bragging about tomorrow."

Dudley grinned back. "I'm glad. See you then, Harry."

And then Draco found himself completely blindsided as the muggle turned to him and enveloped him in a bone crushing hug. "Thanks for everything, mate. I'll see you around, yeah?"

Draco was too stunned to do anything but gape. And then he caught a glance of Potter who was quite obviously trying not to burst out laughing. Draco shot him a dirty look and returned the hug, patting the taller boy's back awkwardly. "Take care, muggle."

Dudley clapped his shoulder, nodded at Potter and collected his dog. And just like that, he was gone. Draco stared after him, a tad surprised at realizing that he actually missed the big lug.

Honestly, what had his life come to?

"You'll see him again," a voice broke into his thoughts. Draco started and his gaze darted towards Potter who was regarding him with a serious, rather sincere expression on his face. Great.

"Do I look like I care?" he snapped.

"Well yes, actually," Potter replied with a grin. "Not surprising. The two of you were practically joined at the hip last night."

Draco winced at the mention of The Night That Never Should Have Been. "In my defence," he attempted. "I…wasn't exactly myself last night."

Potter chuckled. "I'll say. You were practically a Gryffindor."

Draco bristled. "Bite your tongue, Potter. I will never be a..."

"Oh no?" Potter looked entirely too smug for his own good. "Because Dudley mentioned something about taking on my Uncle Vernon and Lucius Malfoy in the same night." He leaned back in his chair, regarding Draco with a sparkle of amusement in his green eyes. "Damn, Malfoy. You're sure you didn't slay any dragons? Maybe rescue a princess or two from a tower?"

Draco scowled, not entirely sure if Potter's teasing was complimentary or not. It sounded complimentary. "I was drunk," he reiterated grudgingly.

"Believe me, I know. I was there. For the last bit."

Draco winced again. Oh well, might as well get this part over with…

"Look, Potter. About that. I…don't know what shite I probably said last night but…" He trailed off as Potter's squeezed his shoulder gently. Draco looked up into earnest, green eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Potter said softly. "I'm…I'm not going to hold you to anything you said last night, Malfoy. I promise."

Draco sighed and slumped back against his chair. He wasn't entirely sure why his relief was tinged with a little disappointment but…at least Potter was being decent about this. "Thank you," he mumbled. "And…and I apologize for…"

"Don't," Potter cut in firmly. "Don't apologise. Please."

Draco frowned. "I don't understand."

Potter sighed and scrubbed a hand through his wet hair again, giving Draco that intense look he always got when he was steeling himself for something. "Look, I know you were drunk and…and you didn't mean what you said. But it's not like I minded or anything. In fact, it was…I don't know; I'd just rather you didn't apologize for it. Whatever you said. So if you don't mind, I'd just rather we…"

"Potter," Draco interrupted abruptly. This…this was…well, he didn't know but he definitely wanted Potter to elaborate. "What in Merlin's name are you…"

"It's your own fault, you know," Potter grumbled sullenly. "You didn't have to make such a cute drunk. And you didn't have to go around rescuing dogs and yelling at Uncle Vernon either. And I'll have you know that I was doing just fine until you dropped into my life again and completely blindsided me! All in a day's work for you, isn't it?"

"Potter, I…"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm telling you off!" Potter snapped. He was ranting now, looking more and more flustered by the second, and under any other circumstances Draco would have gladly retaliated- except Potter was saying these things and he'd be damned if he stopped him.

And then, it gets even better!" Potter carried on, waving a frantic hand around and knocking over a teapot. It crashed to the floor and Draco couldn't care less. His whole world consisted of one ranting, angry boy with green eyes and dark, messy hair who was saying that…

"Because you have to go and tell me that you love me! And you have no fucking idea that you're saying something I want to hear so badly it hurts and…and it's bloody unfair, Malfoy! You really, really didn't have to do any of it is all I'm saying. And while we're on the subject…"

Draco kissed him. Or to paint a more accurate picture, he launched himself over the table, wrapped his arms around Potter and smashed their lips together. Potter flailed and sputtered for about five seconds before coming to the conclusion that this was a good thing and then he moaned and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist- so tightly it almost hurt- and pulled him flush against his body. Draco found himself being hoisted up and pushed back until he was lying on his back on the kitchen table, with Potter looming over him. The Gryffindor advanced on him and in true form, planted his hand right in the butter dish.

"For fucks sake!" he growled, swiping the offending piece of crockery to the floor. Draco didn't even have time to snicker and then Potter was on top of him, all sinewy muscle and strong firm hands and teasing, warm lips on his neck and…

"Oh Merlin," Draco moaned, wrapping his legs around Potter's waist and arching into him.

"You really want this? Tell me you want this," Potter insisted, almost desperately. "Tell me it's not just…"

"No," Draco protested, tightening his hold on Potter's waist. "I mean yes. I mean I…want you." He could feel Potter grinning into his neck.

"Good," he whispered. "Because you're never getting rid of me now, Malfoy."

And Draco burst out laughing. It was stupid and ridiculous and so utterly inappropriate, but he just couldn't help himself. Potter got up, frowning at him. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Draco choked out. "Merlin, I'm sorry. Its…it's just that he said…he said getting drunk was not going to solve my problems and… well, look."

Potter's frown dissipated and he grinned, nuzzling into Draco's neck again. "Dudley said that, did he?"

Draco shook his head, still chortling. "No. Not him. It was Theo. Right before I…"

Ominous realization set in. Draco trailed off and his eyes widened with horror.

"Oh fuck, Theo!"

In a small apartment somewhere in London, Theo Nott woke up, slowly and painfully. His mouth was dry, his body was on fire and his head felt like it had recently been used as a venue for The Headless Hunt. And there was also the miniscule little detail of him being naked. With a pair of handcuffs dangling from his left wrist. Lovely.

Theo groaned, voicing the only sentiment he was capable of registering at this point of time. "I am going to kill Draco Abraxas Malfoy. The Third."

"Yeah, you said that last night."

Theo's eyes snapped open and he turned, immediately finding himself staring into a sharp face complete with glinting, grey eyes and a mischievous, smug smile.

"Hey there," Piers Polkiss grinned, propping himself up on one arm and letting the sheet slide down his lean frame. He was naked too and only then did Theo note that his arse felt rather sore. He whimpered and attempted to bury himself in the covers.

"Oh god," he groaned. "Oh god oh god oh god…"

The muggle looked entirely too smug. "Hey, what do you know? You said that last night too."

Theo unearthed himself and scowled at the smirking git. "Shut it," he snapped. "This is not amusing."

"Not at all," the muggle agreed, trailing a questing hand across the covers. "Certainly entertaining though." He picked idly at a corner of Theo's sheet, clearly intending to peel it off. Theo squeaked and slapped the offending hand away, bunching the covers in his hands and pulling them up to his chin. Piers chuckled.

"Aww, look at you, all shy," he teased. "I seem to recall you being very uninhibited last night."

"You took advantage of me!" Theo protested indignantly.

"Believe me, cutie. You 'took advantage' of me too."

Theo shivered, telling himself resolutely that the vivid images flitting through his mind were repugnant, and not at all arousing. Except his cock clearly begged to differ. Perfect. Theo groaned and slumped back on the bed. "Figures," he grumbled. "He drinks and I get screwed."

"Perils of being a best friend," the muggle agreed. His eyes raked Theo's frame indolently and he grinned again. "Although, it does have its…perks."

"Stop looking at me like that!" Theo shrilled indignantly, bunching the covers up again. "You have no idea how bad this is! We are in so much shit right now! This is a disaster! A catastrophe! And let me tell you I am this close to a complete and utter… mmph!"

Theo flailed as he was unceremoniously grabbed and twisted on his back again. And then there were strong hands on his shoulders and firm, capable lips against his own and he knew the proper thing to do was struggle or at least put up a fight of some sort but it felt…good. Really, really…

"Still hyperventilating?" Piers demanded, finally breaking away. "Or do I have to shut you up again?"

"No," Theo muttered reluctantly. "It's just…you don't understand. We're…we're different."

Piers cocked his head and smiled. "You don't look so different to me," he whispered, nipping lightly at Theo's shoulder.

"But…"

"Oh hush. Don't overthink it."

Theo sighed and gave up, shivering pleasantly as a talented tongue traced its way down his collarbone. "Wh-what happens now?" he managed.

"Well," Piers smirked. "First things first. I want a repeat of last night's performance, of course." Theo gasped as a hand slipped below the sheet and flicked his nipple. "And then, I'll take you out for breakfast. You like pancakes? Never mind, of course you do. And after that, we'll come back here and pick up where we left off. And so on and so forth. Let me know if you have any questions."

"Just one," Theo moaned, arching into his hands. "Can…can we go get drinks later?"

Piers chuckled against his throat. "I already stocked up on vodka. Definitely plan on getting you drunk again."

And despite himself, Theo felt a reluctant grin tug at his lips. Oh, why not? Stranger things had happened. He hooked a leg around his lover and pulled him closer.

"I'm starting to like you, muggle. A lot."

END

And its over *bows*

Until next time, lovelies. Reviews are love!