Harry was the first one to come around, Ron never really did. He still slighted Malfoy at every turn, still taunted him and demeaned him when he could.

Ron was smart enough not to do such things around Hermione, who was married to Draco Malfoy, but he still did those things around Harry. Harry was more forgiving than Hermione and more understanding about such things but it was beginning to irritate the Boy Who Lived more and more.

Harry saw Draco every day. He worked with him on battle training and fighting and on Potions. He spent plenty of time with Hermione going over Charms and Transfigurations. He brushed up on subjects he had been fair in but not adept. And above all else he spent less time with Ron.

It was sad to think that he had outgrown his best friend. But he had and during war was not the time to reminenesce or go through all the what-ifs. Harry had a task to complete, killing the Dark Lord.

True Ron was a decent Auror but Harry was not. Harry was simply the Boy Who Lived.

"Draco," Harry nodded to the blond.

"Harry," The blond Slytherin sized him up quickly. "How're the Charms coming along?"

"Better," Harry smiled. "How have you been Draco? I haven't had the chance to talk to you for a long time."

"Well enough," Draco looked over the vast expanse of land in Northern England. "I'll face my father soon enough."

"Hey Malfoy," Ron's voice rang out, shattering the slightly friendly air. "What the hell do you think you're doing around Harry? Careful there mate, he might slip a knife in your back if you're not careful."

"Ron," Harry stared at the read-head. "Not now."

Thankfully Ron Weasely knew better than to argue with Harry when he used that tone of voice. He shot daggers at Malfoy with his glare though. Harry gave the Malfoy heir an apologetic shrug of his shoulders before determinedly steering Ron away from what was sure to be another victory to Draco. He had no desire to once again listen to Ron groan about how unfair Draco was when they fought, the Slytherin was anything but unfair.

The next day the battle raged. He managed to kill Voldemort, just barely. A few smaller, but no less important fights, raged on around him. Harry turned away from Ron and Pettigrew and found himself mesmerized by the graceful battle between Draco and Lucius, son and father. And finally Draco yelled, "Ungarn Tötem" and ancient German curse that both of them had discovered just last week. He watched, rooted to the ground, as Lucius Malfoy fell and hit the earth.

Harry knew that he was not dead. Ungarn Tötem was not meant to kill right away, it took several long and agonizing minutes depending on how much power your adversary possessed at the time you cursed them. It was a curse that could be removed, a curse that one could survive from it the caster removed it.

Harry knew that Draco would not remove it. No matter what words Lucius spoke, or what Draco felt, the curse would not be removed. He knew Draco, as well as anyone other than his wife was allowed to know. He knew his weaknesses and strengths like his own. One knows their enemies and one knows their war partner as well as themself or death is certain.

Harry and Draco were willing to give up whatever pride they had to live. Harry watched as the Slytherin knelt beside his fallen father. He knew that they were having a silent conversation, he would not begrudge Draco Malfoy of that or of watching his father die.

Carefullly he made his way through the aftermath of the final battle. Through the blood soaked ground, the lifeless corpses strewn about. He made his way to the small gathering of forces from the light.

His keen green eyes searched carefully for Ron and found him getting checked over by a Mediwitch that Poppy knew. He stood waiting by Minerva McGonnagal for the others to make their way over. He stood waiting for his partner, Draco.

"Hey Harry," Ron called out.

"Not now Ron," Harry waved a hand in his direction, eyes still riveted on the scene before him.

He could almost hear what Draco and his father were saying to each other. He could almost see Lucius' confused look at some of Draco's statements. He knew Draco would forgive his father if he asked it, he also knew that he would still hate him.

Hate born of love or love born of hate was stronger and more complicated than any could fathom. Draco and Hermione were a case of the latter. Harry himself understood this for had it not been for Lucius Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson might still live. Were it not for Lucius Malfoy many others might still have lived. Even though Pansy's death weighed heavily upon them he could not begrudge Draco his revenge on the father who had betrayed everything to him. Harry may have loved a Slytherin but Draco would be able to extract that revenge more perfectly then Harry, and he knew it and acquiesed to it.

It was what Ron did not understand. It was why Ron was often left on the edge of things over the past year. Ron loved his family, he loved Lavynder Brown, he loved Hogwarts. He loved those that were familiar to him. His love was safe, his choices were safe and predictable. Harry, Draco and Hermione did not love those familiar, their choices were risks. Risks that had to be taken, ones they would suffer the consequences of in years to come.

He felt the sun beat mercilessly down upon him, felt the stench of blood and death assail his nose. He could almost taste the scorched flesh of the fallen in his mouth the smell was so thick.

Finally Draco stood and cam over to where Harry was waiting. Thankfully Hermione was unable to fight outright due to her pregnancy.

"So Ferret," Ron said from right behind Harry's left shoulder. "Have you come to declare yourself the new Dark Lord?"

"Ron," Harry said clenching his fists together.

Draco said nothing.

"You only married Hermione so you could infect her with your spawn," Ron continued ignoring Harry's warning. "You're a Death Eater, Ferret. A killer."

Calmly Harry turned and punched him in the jaw. Ron dropped to the ground, startled more than hurt.

"Draco," Harry turned to the blond. "Please accept my apologies. Let's go now."

"You're taking sides with the Dark now Harry?" Ron cried.

"You're too biased to even see all that Draco's done for the Light, for me and Hermione," Harry was seething now. "I won't put up with it anymore Ron. I can't. He's my friend as much as Hermione is."

"And you're my friend as much as Hermione," Draco said to the Man Who Destroyed Voldemort. "As close as a twin."

The two clasped hands.

"Vows are broken
Forged anew.
Lifes ambition
Won true.
Reactions and
Consequences.
Vows made in secret,
In the open,
In silence or aloud.
Protect my kith and kin.
The one who holds my hand
Is the one I trust the most
Let not this vow be unbroken
Or unmade or reforged.
We swear readily
A Warriors Sacred Oath.

The chant was spoken by both Harry and Draco in perfect timing with each other. A Warriors Oath once sworn was more binding than almost any other, even a soul oath. If one party was not true the pain the Oathbreaker felt was excruiating before death finally came. Both knew this and accepted it.

Harry had a brother in arms, more of a brother now than Ron.

He turned to look at Ron who lay still on the ground. The red-head turned away and Harry only shook his head. He knew better than Ron ever would, every action had its consequences.