And his love for Enola screamed out at her, shaming her for her earlier jealous outburst. The tender way Neville brushed stray hairs from his wife's forehead, the way he hushed quietly to her when she spasmed, the desperation in his eyes that she had gone into danger somewhere that he couldn't follow ... all the tell-tale marks of a love so strong it should never be doubted, too pure to be threatened by the risks facing it now ...worth must more than Hermione's bout of petty self-absorption.