Potions lessons, held weekly, became a painful ordeal, and Snape's attitude toward Harry worsened significantly. Did Snape know they had discovered the secret of the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry often had the terrifying sensation that Snape could read minds.
After class, Kevin comforted Harry. "Don't worry, I'll cast Mage Armor on you again before the match. Even if you fall off your broom from a thousand feet, you won't die. At most, you'll lose an arm. Unless Snape changes the curse to something nastier."
"Has anyone ever told you that your way of comforting people is unique?" Harry tried to force a smile. "What if he does use a different curse?"
"How about I have Jerry keep an eye on him? If he kills you, we'll make sure the truth comes out. He'll go to jail for life."
"Even if he gets sent to Azkaban, so what? I'll still be dead."
"Maybe that's life; you can't have it all." Kevin took out his pet mouse and whispered instructions to track the target.
Jerry set off reluctantly, his tail twitching with annoyance.
"Okay," Harry said, looking a little uncertain. "What were you doing just now?"
"Telling my pet to tail Snape. When he comes back tonight, he'll tell me everything the man did."
"You can talk to mice? To me, you were just squeaking."
"To be precise, I can talk to Jerry, and I should be able to communicate with other mice as well, provided Jerry is willing to translate."
"Wood wants you in the changing rooms to get ready. Good luck," Ron ran over to inform Harry.
When the match started, Kevin didn't focus on the Quidditch; instead, he pulled Neville Longbottom aside to the stands and pointed out potential suspects for the girl who had framed him the other day.
"This one?" Kevin pointed to a Slytherin girl.
Neville shook his head. "No, that person was blonde."
"That one?"
"She wasn't that tall."
"What about that one?"
"Her... er... chest wasn't that big," Neville's voice trailed off into a whisper.
The girls in green robes across the aisle clearly noticed Kevin pointing and whispering. Most rolled their eyes, but some, seeing Kevin's face clearly, smiled and even shifted their stance to show off their curves.
The identification parade lasted less than five minutes before they heard Madam Hooch's whistle signaling the end of the game. Harry had successfully caught the Golden Snitch in record time.
Gryffindor held another celebration that night. Why "another"? Because Gryffindors celebrated almost every week for various reasons.
They had already experienced events such as "celebrating someone's birthday," "celebrating someone's discharge from the hospital," "celebrating someone's defeat of a troll," and even "celebrating that today is November 11th."
"Kevin," Seamus Finnigan called out cheerfully, "want to come down for some Butterbeer? There's not much left, but it's really good. I'll never understand where Fred and George got it."
"And we will never reveal our sources," George said with a wink.
Angelina Johnson challenged Fred to a round of Exploding Snap, declaring drunkenly, "If I win, you have to be my boyfriend."
Fred responded loudly, "No problem, but I won't lose." Then he pulled out his strongest deck.
Jerry slipped through the dense crowd and returned to Kevin's side. He climbed onto his master's shoulder and communicated in a language only they could understand. Squeak, squeak. "Boss, I've finished investigating the matter you most wanted to know."
"Tell me quickly. You've done a great service."
Squeak. "The four most beautiful girls in the school right now... their underwear is red, gold, blue, and none, respectively."
"Who told you to investigate that? I'm asking about Snape's conspiracy!" Kevin silently noted the information anyway but scolded the mouse.
Squeak. "Met someone wearing a turban in the Forbidden Forest. Didn't wash his hair."
"He wasn't washing his hair; he was interrogating the other person about how to subdue Hagrid's monster."
Squeak. "Threatened the Turban Man."
"The person wearing the turban looked like he was shivering."
"This doesn't sound good." Kevin immediately found Harry and the others and told them what Jerry had seen and heard.
"So, our analysis was correct. That thing is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape is trying to force Professor Quirrell to help him get it. Besides Fluffy, there are probably other enchantments guarding the Stone, and Professor Quirrell might have cast some anti-Dark Arts spells that Snape needs to dispel," Harry concluded.
"Snape himself might have been involved in the design of the defenses; he should be able to solve most of the puzzles. Is it only Fluffy and Professor Quirrell's spells stopping him?" Hermione analyzed, looking panicked.
"Then the Sorcerer's Stone will be gone by next Tuesday," Ron said grimly.
"Don't panic. Maybe Professor Quirrell is more capable than we think," Harry said, trying to encourage everyone. "Remember how I told you I sometimes see numbers above people's heads with these glasses?"
"I noticed that the lower-year students all have zeros above their heads, while some upper-year students have single digits. And the professors mostly have double digits. I've deduced that these numbers reflect a person's magic power, or level. Right?" He looked at Kevin.
"Professor Quirrell is special; he has two sets of numbers floating above his head. Perhaps he is so powerful that he is not afraid of Snape at all." Harry had clearly convinced himself.
Kevin wanted to tell him that the numbers probably didn't work that way—or that a second set of stats usually indicated a second entity occupying the same space. But seeing the hopeful look on their faces, he ultimately couldn't bring himself to reveal the terrifying truth.