Kevin froze as a sudden system prompt startled him. He glanced around quickly—Snape wasn't anywhere in sight.
Then how had Snape recognized him so suddenly?
Oh no… he's probably using some kind of invisibility charm…
Kevin felt a bead of sweat slide down his temple. Had he just been muttering insults about the old bat without realizing it?
"Kevin? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, her voice full of concern.
Hermione, who had just been studying with him, now watched as Kevin's earlier excitement drained away, replaced by a guilty look.
She began to wonder if Professor Snape might be affecting Kevin's mental state. After all, Kevin was an orphan—maybe he wasn't as resilient as he seemed.
"I'm fine… Let's go," Kevin muttered, hurriedly gathering his notes. His eyes flicked to the top page—where a glowing "99" now appeared.
Kevin's breath caught. That's it. I'm done for.
Snape was here. Somewhere.
Hermione's voice pulled him back. "Kevin?"
He didn't answer—just packed up his books in a stiff, almost robotic way and hurried out of the classroom.
Later, Hermione brought him some bread and juice, but Kevin went straight to his dormitory.
She could tell he'd completed his potion successfully, but his strange behavior kept her from asking about it. Instead, she told him to rest.
The next morning, Kevin woke early. Yesterday's mental strain had knocked him out the moment he got back, but after ten solid hours of sleep, he felt renewed.
It's just Snape, he told himself. Ridiculous.
Moving quietly so as not to wake his dormmates, Kevin slipped out and headed for his morning workout spot.
Hogwarts' moving staircases deposited him in an entirely different corridor this time, but eventually he found the same courtyard.
Unbeknownst to him, Snape—who'd been working in the dungeons all night—passed by, spotting Kevin mid-exercise.
The Potions Master allowed himself a thin, knowing smile. He had a plan. But for now, he needed sleep.
When Kevin returned to the dorm, Harry and Ron were already awake. They watched him with concern, but Kevin ignored it, heading straight for the showers—no way was he going to sit next to Hermione smelling like sweat.
At breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione was already eating and reading a book.
"Morning, Hermione," Kevin greeted cheerfully.
"Morning, Kevin. Feeling better?" she asked.
"Never better." He tapped his chest as proof.
"That's a relief. I was worried you might have been… shaken."
Seeing Kevin eat hungrily, Hermione finally relaxed—until she couldn't resist asking about yesterday's Potions lesson.
Kevin was happy to explain, and soon the two were debating magical theory again while Harry and Ron exchanged helpless glances.
The clatter of wings interrupted them as dozens of owls swooped into the Hall, delivering the morning post. Ron received a newspaper and a letter.
Hermione got a letter, while Neville received a Remembrall—a small glass ball that filled with red smoke when its owner had forgotten something. Unfortunately, Neville couldn't remember what he'd forgotten.
Harry borrowed Ron's paper, reading about a break-in at Gringotts Wizarding Bank—Vault 713, the same vault he and Hagrid had visited weeks ago.
Harry whispered this to the group, clearly unsettled.
Kevin shrugged. "So, it's valuable, and someone found out. That's all. The professors will deal with it."
Inwardly, Kevin suspected Dumbledore had deliberately leaked the information to draw Quirrell—currently hosting Voldemort—into attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
Harry frowned but said nothing.
That morning's first lesson was Herbology with Professor Sprout. The class was straightforward—identifying magical plants, learning to transplant and care for them. Kevin, with his strong Potions background, found it easy.
He and Hermione ended up answering most of the professor's questions, earning Gryffindor ten points.
In the afternoon came the first-year students' most anticipated class: Flying Lessons, taught by Madam Rolanda Hooch.
Kevin, however, wasn't excited—he knew his natural flying ability was abysmal.
"Good afternoon, students," Madam Hooch called. "Stand to the left of your broomsticks. Now, extend your right hand over the broom and say, Up!"
Harry's broom jumped into his hand instantly. Draco Malfoy's followed suit. Most other students managed after a few tries.
Kevin's broom didn't so much as twitch. He scowled and kicked it.
"Mr. Kevin," Madam Hooch's sharp gaze locked on him, "you must treat your broom with respect. Call to it properly."
Kevin stared at the broom in disbelief. Respect? It's a stick.
In the end, only Neville and Kevin had to pick up their brooms manually.
"Mount your brooms. On my count—three—push off gently, hover for a moment, then lean forward to descend."
Before she even reached "three," Neville's broom shot upward—and Kevin's followed suit.
Neville panicked, but Kevin's athletic balance kept him steady—until his broom flipped, dumping him mid-air. He twisted like a gymnast and landed safely, earning gasps from the class.
Neville wasn't so lucky—his broom spun out of control, depositing him on a statue's ledge before his robes tore and he began to fall. Kevin caught him effortlessly.
Even Madam Hooch looked impressed, though she warned Kevin about the dangers of catching a falling person. She escorted Neville to the infirmary, warning the others not to touch their brooms.
The moment she was gone, Malfoy began tossing Neville's Remembrall in the air. Harry told him to hand it over, but Malfoy smirked. "Come and get it, Potter." He mounted his broom and soared upward.
Kevin picked up a stone and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it whistling past Malfoy's ear. "Don't think I can't reach you, even up there."
Harry seized the opportunity—he mounted his broom, shot into the air, and caught the Remembrall mid-flight. His natural skill was undeniable, and it caught Professor McGonagall's attention.
She summoned Harry away, setting in motion the events that would make him Gryffindor's youngest Seeker in a century.
Kevin, meanwhile, clapped a hand on Malfoy's shoulder and murmured a quiet warning that left the Slytherin pale.