Kaison returned to his office with a parchment listing Snape's requirements. The request was straightforward: a device with adjustable, controllable temperature. Simple enough.
All it needed was a perpetually burning flame with adjustable shutters to regulate the heat.
He'd use an obsidian slab as the base, with small redstone pistons to create flame shutters for temperature control…
Two hours later…
Piece of cake.
Kaison gripped the lever, watching the flame rise and fall with its movement until—click.
…Wait a second.
This was just a bloody gas stove!
"…Damn it!"
Two days later, Kaison had crafted something more sophisticated: a circular plate that could attach directly to the base of a cauldron, using a magma block to control temperature. It looked properly high-end.
After sending it to Snape's office via owl post, it didn't take long for a +20 satisfaction notification to pop up.
"Life's tough," Kaison muttered.
After delivering the deluxe "electric stove," he still had to update Hogwarts' Iron Golems. He was growing more convinced that Dumbledore had hired him just to be the castle's resident sucker.
By evening…
After a long day's work, Master Kaison ran into Hagrid, dressed neatly and ready to head out.
"Hey! Where you off to?"
Hagrid turned back. "Goin' to pick up Harry Potter! Can't believe it—blink of an eye, and he's eleven already. Last time I saw him, he was… this big."
Hagrid held up two fingers, indicating a tiny gap.
"Harry Potter? Can I tag along? No big deal if not."
"Don't say that! 'Course you can. Hop on, we're takin' the motorbike."
Kaison climbed onto the motorbike. "Hogwarts offers a pickup service for young wizards? Or is it 'cause of his fame?"
"'Cause Hogwarts sent Harry a load of acceptance letters, and none got a reply. So Dumbledore asked me to check on him," Hagrid said, ducking into his hut. He emerged moments later with a cake box.
"It's his birthday today. Figured I'd bring this along. Hope he's got room in his stomach for my cake."
With that, Hagrid revved the motorbike, and with a vroom, it soared into the sky, heading toward a small island off England's coastline.
"They live that far out?"
"Not exactly. We went to his place on Privet Drive first, but it was empty. Tracked him here with a bit of magic… probably on holiday or somethin'."
"OK."
Halfway through the journey, rain began to fall. Thankfully, Hagrid wore a thick fur coat, and Kaison was draped in a tarpaulin cloak, cosplaying a wizard's robe, so the rain didn't bother them.
Still, by the time they reached the island, it was nearly eleven o'clock.
"Now? Won't we disturb their sleep?" Kaison asked, eyeing the dark, unlit tower ahead.
"Relax, Kaison. We'll be real gentle, real quiet. Just hand Harry the cake, won't wake anyone else," Hagrid said, lightly touching the flimsy wooden door handle.
Bang!
The rickety door flew inward, crashing heavily onto the floor.
"Uh… oops. Didn't expect it to be that flimsy," Hagrid said, turning back with an embarrassed grin.
"Forget it. It's your cake for Harry—you should give it to him yourself." Kaison handed the cake box to Hagrid and stepped inside.
Startled awake by the commotion, Harry Potter and the Dursley family turned toward the two figures in the doorway.
A pale, strikingly handsome man who looked like he might be freezing, and behind him, a massive, burly giant of a figure.
"Who are you?"
"Kaison Heath, and this is Rubeus Hagrid. We're from Hogwarts, here to take Harry Potter… uh, sorry for waking you so late. Honestly, it's just that this door was way too flimsy."
"What's Hogwarts?" Mr. Dursley asked, though he seemed to have a hunch. His hand subtly inched toward a shotgun in the corner.
"That's for Hagrid to explain."
As Kaison spoke, a flame block ignited in his hand, radiating warm light. It was a small comfort for someone who'd been flying through the rain for over three hours.
The sudden flame sent the Dursleys scrambling to the corner in fear, leaving only a thin, bespectacled boy standing his ground, his face brimming with curiosity despite his threadbare clothes.
Kaison lit the extinguished fireplace nearby. "Warm up by the fire. You're dressed too lightly for this weather."
"I'm Harry Potter. You're here for me?" Harry nodded, sitting by the fireplace, asking cautiously.
"I'm Kaison Heath. Yep."
"Why… and how did you make that fire? Is that—"
"Magic. We're wizards. So are you."
"Wizards!"
"Mm-hm."
"Do you know about my parents?"
"Sorry, I can't answer that one. See that big guy over there? He might know."
While Kaison's side was cozy by the fireplace, Hagrid was in a heated standoff with the Dursleys, which included—but wasn't limited to—cursing their son with a pig's tail and violently bending the barrel of their shotgun.
In the midst of it, Hagrid even found time to turn and hand over the cake box he'd been carrying.
"This is Hagrid's cake for you… Honestly, we were worried you'd eaten too much to enjoy it, but, uh, looks like… life hasn't been too kind to you," Kaison said, helping open the box, only to realize Hagrid had forgotten candles.
"Eh, candles, torches—same difference, close enough." With a snap of his fingers, a tiny torch appeared in his hand, which he stuck into the cake.
"For me?" Harry looked at the cake, which had… something resembling his name scrawled on it, and said excitedly, "This is for me?"
"Yeah… Hagrid's not much for spelling, but that's definitely meant to be your name. He should've checked with me—I could've helped him get it right," Kaison muttered, scratching his chin in mild exasperation.
Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He took a deep breath, ready to blow out the "candle," only for Kaison to poke his cheek, making him puff out the air prematurely.
"Hagrid, time to blow out the candle!" Kaison called to Hagrid, who was still arguing with the Dursleys.
"Oh, comin', comin'!" Hagrid abandoned the trembling Dursleys, his face lighting up like he was looking at a blooming flower.
"Go on, blow it out."
Whoosh!
The torch's flame burned as brightly as ever, not even flickering.
…Yeah, it wasn't giving them any face at all.