The very first question he asked me, when I finally admitted to him how I felt, was, "Why me?" The fact that he would ask that question just made me love him all the more.

I don't think he's ever quite known his worth; I don't know that he does even now, despite everything he has shown himself to be. It must not have been easy to grow up in the shadow of his brothers, to be known simply as "Charlie's little brother"--you know, the tall one--or "Fred and George's little brother," the one who isn't on the house team.

By the time he had become "Famous Harry Potter's best friend," I think he had truly come to believe that that's all he was--or ever would be.

He never complained, though, not really. There was that brief period in our fourth year when the unacknowledged resentment and pain at having been shunted aside all his life spilled onto the surface, but it was quickly resolved and forgotten, and he once again took his place at Harry's side, having made his peace with it.

If he thought his ultimate legacy was to be the sidekick everyone saw but wouldn't hear, he was wrong. Because to me, he was always so much more than that.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when I began to fall in love with Ron Weasley. Looking back, I think I had loved him from the very beginning, as if he had always carried around a piece of my heart that was lost and finally found the day we met.

I still remember that awkward eleven year old aboard the Hogwarts Express, with dirt on his nose and that annoyed expression on his face when I had interrupted his spell. Perhaps I knew it even then, but didn't realize I did, not until years later, when I looked back on the many times he had come to my defense whenever someone threw an insult at me, or rushed to my side when I was hurt.

That is his greatest gift of all, an unwavering sense of loyalty and devotion. In a moment of danger, he is the first to jump into the fray, and he would and move heaven and earth--even lay down his life--for those he loves.

He is also the first to make you laugh when the world is gray, or bring you out of your shell when all you want to do is retreat into a corner. All he has to do is flash that brilliant smile.

People would ask me, when it became known that we had become a couple, why I had chosen him and not Harry. It was a question I had never once pondered.

To me, Harry Potter was like my long-lost twin, a brother with whom it seemed as if I had been reunited; at times he seemed like a son to me as well.

I watched over him, protected him, guided him, and allowed him to do the same for me, but it was Ron who had captured my heart. It was Ron who found my spirit, challenged me, engaged me, gave me a reason to laugh, to fight, to love.

To believe.

It has not been an easy road for us; it was paved with misunderstandings, broken hearts, strained friendships, and sometimes even danger. Still, the road never diverged far from him. Wherever I was, I knew where my home would be: with him.

I was a little girl when we met, but it was with him that I became a woman. It was with him that I became a wife, and now a mother. And the little boy I had encountered that day on the train, the one with so many insecurities and doubts about who he was and who he would be, grew into a strong, noble, selfless, and compassionate man. I watched it happen with my own eyes.

I don't know if Ron will ever realize just how incredible a person he is--how big a difference he has made in my life, in Harry's. I don't know that I'll ever be able to find the words to tell him everything he is to me.

But one thing is for certain. The world is a better place because Ron Weasley is in it, and I will love him till the day I die.

I'll be the first to admit we didn't exactly meet under the best of circumstances. In fact, you could even say we got off on the wrong foot completely. There I was, minding my own business, having a pleasant conversation with a new-found friend, and she had to come barging in out of nowhere, interrupting my spell and huffing about the dirt on my nose. I knew right then and there that I would never be--could never be--friends with this girl.

It was not the last time I would be wrong about Hermione Granger.

She caught me completely off-guard that day, and truthfully, every day since then. My life has been nothing short of an exciting, challenging, sometimes frustrating, but always rewarding adventure with her, and I wouldn't trade a single second of it for all the Galleons in the world or a hundred years of the Cannons winning the League Cup.

If you asked me what I love most about my wife, I don't know that I'd ever be able to give you just one answer--I'd never be able to narrow it down.

I adore so many things about her. There are the things that are so very obvious to those who know her: her spirit, that fiery, take-no-prisoners approach to life that she's had since the day I met her, that's evident in the way her eyes light up with life and enthusiasm, and pure tenacity and will. I've never seen a challenge that she's refused to meet head on, nor one she hasn't managed to master and overcome. There's also the razor-sharp wit and intelligence--the ability to quote from the most obscure text or recall little-known facts at just the right time--that ensured her a place in Hogwarts history as the brightest witch to ever step foot inside the school, and earned her countless laurels in a distinguished career in the Ministry.

But then there are the things that only those of us who have the privilege of being close to her can see: the way she'll immediately reach out to those she loves when they are in pain and need the reassurance only she can give; the way she laughs, fully and without holding back, making us all laugh along with her; the way she smiles when she's around our children, and the gentleness in her voice when she reads them a bedtime story, or is staying up late into the night with them when they're sick.

And then there is the way she looks at me--even after all these years and everything we have been through together--like she looks at no other person on this earth. No one else can say my name and bring a smile to my face just from the mere sound of it. No one.

There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not in complete awe of the simple fact that our paths crossed all those years ago. For a long time I wondered why she would choose me, when she could have had any other. She doesn't think much of her "plain brown hair" and her "plain brown eyes," but to me, she is the most beautiful woman inside and out, and I know a million other men would be more than happy to take my place in an instant.

I asked her this once. Why she would pick me, when there were so many others who would have been more worthy of her. There were better-looking blokes, and richer ones. Better-dressed, better-mannered, smarter, funnier... I'm sure there were even those who wondered if she fell in love with the wrong best friend.

But regardless of the reason, whatever it was that made me fortunate enough to be the one she chose to be with, I know I will spend the rest of my life making her glad she did.

I was a boy when we met, but it was with her that I became a man. It was with her that I became a husband, and now a father, and each step along this journey, even the ones filled with pain and frustration and misunderstandings, was worth it.

She is worth it.

I'll never know all the answers to all the questions in the universe--I doubt even Hermione would--but I know one thing. I know my life is better because she is in it.