First Meeting with Harry

Kayson returned to his office with a piece of parchment listing Snape's requirements.

His requirements were nothing more than adjustable, controllable temperature. In short, very simple.

All he needed was an eternally burning flame, with baffles added above it to control the flame's temperature by increasing or reducing them.

He only needed an Obsidian slab as a base, then small Redstone pistons above it to create flame baffles and regulate the temperature...

Two hours later...

Pretty simple.

Kayson gripped the lever and watched the flame before him rise and weaken as he moved it, until there was a click.

...???

Wasn't this just a gas stove?

"...Damn it!"

Two days later.

This time, Kayson had tinkered together something more advanced: a round plate that could be attached directly beneath a cauldron, with no base at all. It used magma blocks directly to control the temperature and looked extremely high-end.

Not long after he had owl-posted it to Snape's office, 20 satisfaction points popped up.

"Life isn't easy."

After express-delivering the advanced induction cooker, he still had to update Hogwarts' Iron Golems. Kayson was increasingly suspicious that Dumbledore had hired him in the first place just to find some poor sucker.

Until evening...

After a busy day of work, Master Kayson ran into Mr. Hagrid, who was neatly dressed and about to leave.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

Hagrid turned around. "To pick up Harry Potter! God, I can't believe it. In the blink of an eye, he's already eleven. The last time I saw him, he was only... this big."

As he spoke, Hagrid held two fingers apart to show a tiny distance.

"Harry Potter? Can I come take a look? It's fine if I can't."

"Don't say that. Of course you can. Get on, we'll take the motorcycle."

Kayson climbed onto the motorcycle. "Does Hogwarts provide pickup services for young wizards? Or is it because of his fame?"

"Hogwarts sent Harry lots of acceptance letters, but none of them got a reply, so Dumbledore asked me to check on him." As Hagrid spoke, he entered his hut and soon emerged carrying a cake box.

"Today's his birthday. I thought I ought to bring this to him. Hope he's saved enough room to eat my cake."

With that, he mounted the motorcycle. With a roar, it shot straight into the clouds and flew toward a small island off the coast of England.

"They live somewhere that remote?"

"Not exactly. We went to his home on Privet Drive earlier, but they'd already left. This place was found with tracking magic... Maybe they're on vacation or something."

"Okay."

About halfway through the journey, rain suddenly began to fall from the sky. Fortunately, one of them wore a fur coat, while the other wore a tarpaulin cloak over his clothes like a wizard's robe, so neither feared the rain.

Even so, it was nearly eleven by the time they reached the island.

"Now? Won't we disturb them while they're sleeping?"

Kayson looked at the pitch-black tower before him and asked.

"Relax, Kayson. We'll be very gentle, very quiet. We'll just give Harry the cake and won't wake anyone else." As he spoke, Hagrid lightly touched the handle of the none-too-sturdy wooden door.

Can't find the book by searching its title? Try searching for the author instead; maybe it was just renamed!

The battered wooden door toppled inward and slammed heavily onto the floor.

"Ah... oh, I didn't think it was that flimsy." Hagrid turned back awkwardly.

"Forget it. This is a cake you brought for Harry, so it's more appropriate for you to give it to him yourself." After handing the cake to Hagrid, Kayson walked straight inside.

Harry Potter, awakened by the tremendous crash, along with the three members of the Dursley family, looked toward the two figures at the door.

One was a terrifyingly pale, handsome man who looked as though he might have been cold, and behind him stood a huge, burly fellow?

"Who are you?"

"Kayson Heath. Behind me is Rubeus Hagrid. We're from Hogwarts, and we're here to take Harry Potter away... Uh, sorry for waking you in the middle of the night. Really, it's just that this door was too flimsy."

"What is Hogwarts?" Though Mr. Dursley had already guessed, he still asked. At the same time, his hand inconspicuously moved toward the shotgun in the corner.

"Hagrid should be the one to tell you that."

As Kayson spoke, a block of flame ignited in his hand, giving off a warm glow that made the poor man, who had flown through the rain for over three hours, feel a little better.

But that immediately frightened the Dursleys into the corner, leaving only a thin, bespectacled child standing where he was. He was dressed far too lightly, and his face was brimming with unconcealed curiosity.

Seeing this, Kayson lit the extinguished fireplace beside them. "Warm yourself up. You're wearing far too little for this weather."

"My name is Harry Potter. You came for me?" Harry nodded, sat beside the fireplace, and asked carefully.

"My name is Kayson Heath. Yes."

"Then... why? And why can you make fire? Is this...?"

"Magic. We're wizards, and so are you."

"A wizard!"

"Mm-hm."

"Then do you know my parents?"

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that. See that big guy over there? He might know."

Compared to the warmth of Kayson's fireplace, Hagrid on the other side was passionately arguing with the Dursleys. This included, but was not limited to, making the Dursleys' son grow a pig's tail and violently bending the barrel of the shotgun.

He even found time to turn around and hand over the cake box he had been carrying all along.

"This is the cake Hagrid made for you... Honestly, we were worried you'd eat too much and have no room left for it, but it looks like... your life hasn't exactly been very good." Kayson helped open the cake box, only to discover that Hagrid had forgotten to prepare candles.

"Whatever. They're both little sticks on fire, close enough." With that, he snapped his fingers, and a tiny torch appeared in his hand. He stuck it into the cake.

"For me?" Harry looked excitedly at the cake before him, which had what could barely be called his name written on it.

"Yes... Hagrid might not be very educated, but that really is your name... He should have told me when he was making the cake. At least I could've helped him spell your name correctly." Kayson rubbed his chin and complained helplessly.

Harry could no longer hold himself back. He drew in a breath, only for Kayson to poke his cheek with a finger, making the air leak straight out.

"Hagrid, it's time to blow out the candle." Kayson called to Hagrid, who was still arguing.

"Oh, coming, coming!" Hagrid immediately abandoned the trembling Dursleys and wore an expression like he was looking at a flower.

"Blow it out."

The torch continued to burn with brilliant flames, without even the slightest flicker.

...Anyway... it was incredibly uncooperative.