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Word Count: 496

Auction Prompt: Day 25, Auction 4: Piers Polkiss

Warning: Mentions of past drug taking.

Best Friend

The cigarette tip glowed against the darkness of the night sky. Piers inhaled, and then blew out the smoke slowly, watching it curl in front of him before it dissipated.

It was after midnight, and he knew he should go home, but he really didn't want to. This year had been shit, ever since Dudley left.

Piers missed him.

At first, he'd just been angry, because out of nowhere, Dudley was moving away and couldn't remain in contact with Piers—something to do with that weird cousin of his that Dudley couldn't explain—but after the anger was gone, he just… he just missed his best friend.

Dudley had been there every single day with Piers since they were six years old and they ruled the sandbox, as it were. They'd gone all the way through school together, spent the weekends together.

They'd shared their first cigarette, first alcoholic drink, first joint, first fight, first everything.

And Piers had just been left behind.

Though Gordon and Malcolm were still here, it just wasn't the same. The two of them had always been the add ons, best friends as Dudley and Piers were, and for the first time, Piers felt like the outsider.

He hadn't felt like that before, and he didn't particularly care for it.

He considered making new friends, but it seemed like a lot of effort, and honestly, Piers just didn't care for people as a whole thing.

There were only a few exceptions, and Dudley had been one of them.

His best friend. His brother.

Sighing to himself, Piers threw the cigarette butt to the floor and stomped on it, before he left the park and made the walk home. The streets were deserted as they always were at the late hour, only a few lights on in behind the curtained windows of the posh streets.

Piers walked past number 4 Privet Drive. He didn't have too. He lived on the next street, and there was a quicker way home, but it was habit to drop Dudley off on his way home and he'd never changed his route, even after Dudley had left.

But.

There was a light on in the window. Three lights on actually, one downstairs and two upstairs, and Piers' heart was in his mouth.

He tried to tell himself not to hope; the Dursleys had probably sold the house, but there had never been a 'For Sale' sign.

The door opened quietly, and Piers looked hard, trying to see who it was. The light from the hallway was making it hard, but as the figure approached, it was a familiar gait, and then a familiar face, and Piers had his best friend back.

Just like that.

"Are you staying?" he asked, voice travelling in the quiet of the night.

"Yeah, we're home for good," Dudley replied, stuffing his hands into jean pockets.

Piers smiled. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. I… missed you."

"Yeah. Me too."