A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
word Count: 465
He could hear in her voice she'd been crying. She pretended she hadn't been. He knew though, because he'd been there for her, always been there for her. When things got bad, he was the one who cheered her up. He was the one who had helped her see that things weren't right in her marriage.
That she needed to find someone to treat her right, someone who would let her shine, let her take her place in the spot light. She was brilliance and light, she was beauty and genius.
He knew Ron would never see that, always trying to force her into his shadow as he fly through the sky pretending he had bought his way onto a professional team with his war money.
He had followed her name in the paper, watching it get mentioned seldom and seldomer until she was relegated to be nothing more than an arm piece for Ron. He'd clenched his hands into fists at that, at how she'd become nothing.
He'd found her phone number, a muggle number, that he had always known she'd have. She was both worlds. He called her up and she talked to him, leaned on him. He wished he could fix it, fix what had been done to her, but he couldn't fix it, she had to do that herself. She wasn't the type to give herself love, wasn't the type to admit her own abilities, not anymore.
He'd made a shell of her former self. She called him up when she made up her mind, when she decided to change things, that the world she was living in no longer made her happy. She called him after crying all night. He would be there for her, when ever she called.
Where ever life took her, he was there, he followed her as she tried to pick up her life, to move away from what Ron had done to her, to her name. He followed her as she left that life behind, finally stepping out of the shadows and onto the stage of academia. He followed her name in the magazines, in the respected publications that graced the walls of scholars' libraries.
He followed her, watching and waiting until she had finally found herself, finally found her own way, before he asked for one date, one cup of coffee. He followed her as she said yes, as one cup became two and then three.
He followed her as she traveled, a constant companion until she asked him the question burning on her lips, until she asked him to stay with her forever, to follow her forever, to be hers forever. And he said yes, he'd follow her anywhere, not matter how dark things got, in sickness and health, he'd follow her forever.