NOVEL NEXT Chapter 6: CH 6
Kaysen returned to his office holding a piece of parchment with Professor Snape's requirements written on it.
His needs were fairly straightforward: create a magical device to control and adjust the temperature precisely. In short, a simple task.
The idea was to create a permanent burning flame, add a baffle to it, and control the flame's intensity by increasing or decreasing the coverage of the baffle.
It only required an obsidian slab as the base and a small redstone piston to control the flame baffle.
Two Hours Later…
It was simple enough.
Kaysen adjusted the lever and watched as the flames grew higher or smaller in intensity as he moved the lever. Then, there was a satisfying click.
…???
Wait.
Isn't this just a gas stove?
"Gan!" Kaysen muttered in frustration.
Two Days Later
Kaysen came up with a high-end version: a circular board that could be directly attached to the base of a crucible. Instead of a standard base, it used a magma block to control the temperature. The final product looked incredibly sophisticated.
After sending it to Snape's office via owl courier, he received a 20% satisfaction boost.
Life isn't easy, Kaysen sighed.
Having completed the upgraded magical "stove," Kaysen turned his attention to upgrading Hogwarts' Iron Golems. As the days passed, he increasingly suspected that Dumbledore had recruited him to face a massive future enemy.
Evening…
After a busy day, Kaysen ran into Hagrid, who was neatly dressed and about to leave.
"Hey, where are you off to?" Kaysen asked.
Hagrid turned back with a wide smile. "Goin' to pick up Harry Potter! Blimey, can't believe he's already eleven. Seems like only yesterday he was… this small." Hagrid held up two fingers close together to demonstrate.
"Harry Potter? Can I come along? If not, that's fine."
"'Course yeh can! Hop on the motorbike."
The trip on Hagrid's enchanted motorbike ended at the Dursley's house, where the entire family was quickly frightened into a corner. The only one left standing was a thin boy with glasses, wearing clothes far too light for the cold weather.
Seeing him, Kaysen immediately lit the extinguished fireplace in the room. "Come sit by the fire and warm up. You're dressed too lightly for this weather."
The boy sat cautiously by the fire, watching the flames with wide eyes. "My name is Harry Potter. Are you here to see me?"
"My name is Kaysen Heath. And yes, I am."
"Why? And… how can you make fire like that? Is this…?"
"Magic. We're wizards, and so are you."
"Wizards!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief.
"Uh-huh."
"Do you know my parents?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that. But see that big man over there? He might know."
While Kaysen warmed the boy by the fire, Hagrid had an animated confrontation with the Dursleys. This included—but was not limited to—making Dudley Dursley grow a pig's tail, bending the barrel of a shotgun, and bellowing at Uncle Vernon.
After finishing his verbal onslaught, Hagrid turned back and handed Harry a cake box he'd been holding.
"This is fer you, Harry. I made it meself!"
Kaysen took the box from Hagrid and frowned slightly. "To be honest, we were worried you wouldn't have room for cake. But from the looks of it… life hasn't been very kind to you."
As Kaysen opened the box, he noticed Hagrid had forgotten to prepare candles.
"Never mind," Kaysen said with a wave of his hand. A tiny torch appeared, which he placed on the cake.
"For me?" Harry asked excitedly, staring at the cake with his name written on it in uneven letters.
"Yes. Hagrid may not be the most educated, but it does have your name on it… more or less. He probably should've asked me to spell it properly," Kaysen said, rubbing his chin with mock seriousness.
Harry, too excited to care, inhaled to blow out the "candle," but Kaysen poked his cheek with a finger, causing the air to escape in a puff.
"Hagrid, he's about to blow out the candle!" Kaysen called.
"Oh, comin'!" Hagrid left the cowering Dursleys and approached with a wide grin.
"Go on, Harry, blow it out."
Whoosh!
The torch continued to burn brightly, its flame unwavering.
…In short, it wasn't the most respectful attempt at a birthday wish.