"I don't know, Harry, I think I've completely lost faith in Dumbledore," Hermione said, exasperated. Harry, of course, insisted on defending Dumbledore to the bitter end which was one more thing that got on Hermione's nerves that day.
She had a bad morning. Dumbledore had been right about her neglect of her homework for the past three days. Although she had managed to catch up on most of it with little trouble, this morning she completely forgot about an assignment for Flickwick's class. Not only that but she had run into Professor Trelawny in the hall, who mumble something rude about Hermione's love of books and walked off leaving behind the smell of cooking sherry.
"Dumbledore is just trying to help," Ron added though his defense of the Headmaster was not as strong as Harry's.
"But it's Rita Skeeter," Hermione ranted, "I wouldn't be surprised if the Death Eaters staged the whole thing, just to get Rita in here to spy on the Order."
"Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen, Hermione," Harry said. She knew her friend was irritated, but he had never hated Rita as much as Hermione. He didn't understand that Hogwarts was not big enough for the two of them.
Once inside the classroom the three friends took their seats. Hermione was glad the conversation died off because she was tired of arguing. Today in transfiguration McGonagall would finish up the three day lecture on practical uses of the subject. Thankfully, Hermione had already finished the book for the class and could relax or finish up homework from another class while McGonagall droned on. Usually Hermione like the endearing old professor, but today she was too annoyed to like anyone. Besides, she felt betrayed by the Headmistress of Gryffindor, who offered safe haven to Rita.
"Good morning," McGonagall's curt voice said as she marched into the classroom. "Today we will continue the discussion on the uses of birds of flight transfiguration and move on to domestic animals. Before we start does anyone have any questions?"
Hermione resisted the urge to raise her hand and ask McGonagall if the practical use of a beetle was to be squashed. Hermione noticed everyone was looking toward the back of the classroom. When she turned she saw Neville timidly raising a thick hand. Hermione rolled her eyes. Neville always asked the most obnoxious off topic questions of anyone at Hogwarts. She was not in the mood to sit through another long explanation of something she probably understood during her first year.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom," McGonagall called out and pointed to him with a wrinkled finger.
"Professor," he began, "I was reading the other day about a Nevilos Amorus and I was wondering what that is?"
To Hermione's surprise she had never heard of such a thing. The subject intrigued her even more when she saw McGonagall look over the rim of her glasses at Neville. She usually did that when she was irritated at having to answer a difficult question.
"Where on earth did you read about that?" McGonagall questioned her voice devoid of patience. Hermione saw a few girls sitting near Neville snicker. Of course, he must have found it in Willie Wizards Guide to The Magic of Love. The book had been the craze at Hogwarts since school started. It seemed anyone who wanted a boyfriend or girlfriend found the answers in the ridiculous how to guide. Hermione had never read it herself, she certainly had more important things to do than worry about getting a boyfriend. Her eyes wandered toward Ron and she gave him an uppity glance.
When Neville didn't answer another student shouted out a response.
"It's a joke in Willie Wizards Guide to Love," the student said.
"It says to make sure your potential date isn't a Nevilos Amorus or else you're in for it," another student said. Hermione was glad to see McGonagall would not be able to dodge the question. From the growing noise it appeared Neville had hit on the question that everyone in the class was dying to know. Hermione sighed at the lack of serious study by her fellow students.
The class grew more anxious as everyone started discussing the question.
"Class, class," McGonagall said. Two words from the professor made everyone to suddenly fall silent. McGonagall always kept strict control of her class, something Hermione always appreciated.
"A Nevilos Amorus is a cursed witch or wizard," McGonagall began, "There are very few of them left in the world. No one is quite sure why or how such a curse began some say that…that a not very nice wizard started it—"
"Voldemort!" Harry shouted out and everyone gasped. McGonagall's face went pale at the mention of that name. Hermione really wished Harry could control himself sometimes.
"Perhaps," McGonagall replied once some color came back to her face, "Or it may have been something else. Strange curses sometimes fall unexpectedly on the unsuspecting."
"What does it do?" Hermione asked, unable to help herself.
"A Nevilos Amorus is a witch or wizard who is unable to fall in love. If it so happens that love finds them he or she will become a Squib," McGonagall explained. "You see if a witch or wizard cursed were ever to tell another they loved them, they would lose all their gifts."
The class grew silent in the wake of the revelation.
"Have you ever met one?" Hermione asked. She saw something in Professor McGonagall's eyes that she rarely ever saw. It was a sort of kind sadness.
"My dear Miss Granger," McGonagall began. Hermione thought for a moment she might say 'I am one.' Instead she continued in a different way.
"I wouldn't know. The only way to tell a Nevilos Amorus is to ask them directly. They are unable to mention the curse unless directly asked," the old professor said.
"Are you a Nevilos Amorus," Hermione blurted out without really thinking. McGonagall took a small step backwards as if Hermione's words had some physical force to them.
"Certainly not, child," McGonagall said, "And it's rude to ask such a personal question."
Hermione ducted her head as she heard a few laughs at her expense. The loudest came from Draco Malfoy who snickered at McGonagall's reprimand.
"Can't fall in love, huh, that really bites," Ron said and many students nodded in agreement.
"Well, lucky for the rest of us, there are very few in the world," McGonagall said the same sadness creeping into her voice. McGonagall might not be a Nevilos Amorus but Hermione was sure the old teacher was hiding something.
"We should move on," McGonagall prompted and the class took out their notebooks. Hermione did not. She was bothered deeply by the fact that someone out there might be in love and not be able to show it or risk losing magic. That would be a true romantic tragedy.