"What does this thing actually do?" Ron asked, staring at the Prestigahatitator. He took off his own top hat and looked at it suspiciously.
"Wait, could my hat be turned into a machine like this too?"
"Technically, yes, but having a bunch of these machines isn't very useful right now," Kane said, scratching his head.
The Prestigahatitator could create many essential items—like the at Effigy for resurrection. But since he hadn't managed to die yet, he figured he'd just leave that in the "cabinet" for a rainy day.
He wanted a Pan Flute to put creatures to sleep, but he was currently out of Mandrakes. He'd have to ask Dumbledore for a couple more soon. He also wanted a One-man Band to charm creatures into being his friends, but he lacked both gold and pig skin.
In short, other than the at Effigy, everything high-tier was a massive pain to craft. Even the incredibly cost-effective Shadow Armor and Dark Sword...
Wait, actually, I can make those!
Both items only required Nightmare Fuel and Living Log. Those were actually the easiest things for him to get his hands on right now.
Kane imdiately snatched his cowboy hat off his head and yanked his bed out of the tent.
"What is he doing now?" Ron asked, looking completely lost.
"You know," Harry said, circling his finger near his temple and shrugging. He looked at Kane with the kind of pitying expression one usually reserves for a patient in a high-security psychiatric ward. "Since the day I t him, I've known his head... well, it's a different place."
The Following Monday...
Kane sat up in bed, looking slightly dazed. With a flick of shadow magic, he instantly shredded a few Shadow Creatures that had been lunging at him.
Normally, wearing flowery garlands and top hats while eating delicious food kept his Sanity so high that shadow creatures wouldn't even manifest.
He'd spent a full week avoiding his "Sanity-restoring" items and grinding magic studies just to get his Sanity low enough to farm them for fuel.
As for the Living Log, he'd secured that early on. He'd spent the rest of the week studying, gathering raw materials, and subtly asking every professor what Hagrid liked.
Even though Aragog would likely be a victim of magical amnesia by the ti Hagrid next visited, Kane still felt a twinge of guilt. He needed to give Hagrid a compensatory gift.
And today was the day...
Kane gathered the scattered Nightmare Fuel from the floor and woke up the snoring Harry and Ron. "Breakfast ti, boys! My delivery should be arriving today, and if we're late, a crowd will definitely gather."
"Is breakfast really worth waking up this early for? We don't even have classes today," Ron mumbled. Harry wasn't much better, chanically shoveling food into his mouth.
Kane, however, was focused on the window. A fleet of owls was approaching. Good, the delivery isn't late. No need to file a complaint with the owl-post.
While Harry and Ron assud the packages had nothing to do with them, a long, thin parcel plumted directly toward Harry's head. He looked up, annoyed, until he saw the note attached. He instantly bolted upright, grabbing Kane and Ron.
"I still have a package coming! What's the rush?" Kane asked.
"A broomstick! A brand new broomstick from Professor McGonagall!" Harry hissed. Ron's eyes went wide. "Seriously? Move, move, move!"
The two ran back to the dorm with the prize. Kane stayed behind, waiting until most of the other owls had finished their rounds. Finally, a specialized "Owl Squadron" flew in, struggling under the weight of a massive, heavy crate.
"Finally." Kane cast a Levitation Charm to take the weight off the owls and guided the crate to the edge of the Forbidden Forest—a nice, secluded spot for unboxing.
He opened the crate to find a sleeping Baby Beefalo. He allowed his Shadows to seep into the creature, stabilizing its form into a proper "Little Beefalo."
He imagined Hagrid's massive fra alongside a fully-grown Beefalo. It was a perfect match. He'd been too embarrassed to even visit Hagrid lately; he felt like a guy who'd stolen an honest man's money to support a mistress, only to find out the mistress was the man's long-lost sister.
"Eh? Kane? Haven't seen you in a week! How did your talk with Aragog go?" Hagrid called out, walking back from breakfast. He spotted Kane acting suspicious near the crate.
"Oh! It was a... very productive start. Anyway, I got you a gift! See if you like it," Kane said, pivoting the conversation as fast as possible toward the sleeping creature.
Hagrid leaned over. He saw a creature that looked a bit like a giant, fuzzy nut—covered in thick, brownish fur, with four stubby legs and a very honest, innocent face.
"Oh... he's precious! Is he a rare magical beast?" Hagrid's voice went soft, radiating motherly warmth.
"Sort of. I 'developed' him myself. He's a bit like a Treeguard in terms of origin. Do you like him? He'll grow up to be about the size of your house. If you like him, he's yours."
Kane knew Hagrid's aesthetic: Big = Beautiful, Strong = Cute. He might have slightly exaggerated the adult size, but not by much.
"Oh, Kane... this is too valuable," Hagrid hesitated.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to take him back and turn him into a barbecue then," Kane said, pretending to pull the crate away.
"I love valuable gifts! Thank you, Kane! I love him!" Hagrid shouted, scooping the baby Beefalo into his arms. "I'll call him... Walnut."
"Good na. Probably because of the color. Glad you like him! I've got to get back—I'm finally ready to craft my Dark Sword and Shadow Armor."
"Wait, won't you co in for tea?" Hagrid asked, scratching his head.
"Can't!" Kane felt another wave of guilt. "Oh, and Hagrid? Don't raise Walnut inside the house. He grows fast. You might wake up and find him..." Kane made a huge, expanding-balloon gesture with his hands.
"Understood! Thanks again!" Hagrid waved as he carried Walnut toward his hut.
Kane's legs moved faster. Go, go, go! Looking at Hagrid makes feel like a monster!
Back in the dorm, he found Harry and Ron flying a magnificent, sleek broomstick just a few inches off the floor.
"Kane, look! It's a Nimbus 2000! The stability is incredible!" Harry shouted.
"Not now, Harry. I've been waiting for my materials for a month. Nothing stops this unboxing."
Harry and Ron shrugged and kept flying. A few seconds later, the Prestigahatitator began to emit a series of rhythmic, musical chis as it processed the Nightmare Fuel and Living Logs.
Then, Kane's voice echoed through the room, filled with utter confusion.
"What the hell is this thing?"
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