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SIYE Time:13:45 on 29th March 2024
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A Working Title?
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP, Summer Jobs Challenge (2006-4)
Characters:None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 18
Summary: ** Winner of Best Humor & Best Adventure in the Summer Jobs Challenge **
"Summer time and the living is easy..." Well at least for Harry and friends most of the time with their summer intern jobs. It builds character! What's the worst that could happen?
Hitcount: Story Total: 6338



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
For those who haven't read my stories before...tsk, tsk, tsk. Spenser is a character I created from my pen name to allow an outside perspective, explain my Americanisms, and to blame when the story falls flat. Thanks for reading!




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A Working Title?

By Spenser Hemmingway



I'm a greater believer in luck, and I find the harder I work
the more I have of it
.”–-Thomas Jefferson



“Oh Mum…why can’t I have a new Freedonian Firefang dragon skin Keeper’s glove? Uncle Fred gave one to little Mortimer, and he’s only a year old.”

“Your uncle spoils that little boy. He and Uncle George both do with their sons. Your Uncle Ron’s old glove will be perfectly fine.”

“Old is right Mum! Grandpa used it when he went to Hogwarts, and it was a hand-me-down then. Brenda Llewellyn just got hers, and it’s fantastic! It offers half again the protection of my roc-hide glove, and the Quaffle gripping is brilliant! Plus…all the advertisements say that players who wear it become hot chick magnets.”

Ginny Potter’s eyebrows shot up at hearing her second son’s words. She didn’t have to ask him where he had picked that up. Ginny would have to have another talk with Spenser about some of the vocabulary he was imparting to her children. Their discussion after young Lily uttered the phrase steaming mega-hunk of a boy may not have been enough. She did have to admire the six-year-old’s taste however. That Muggle actor Daniel Rad…something rather was kind of cute. Now, if she could only figure out who it was that he reminded her of.

“I know we can afford it Mum. You and Dad make loads of money with the Broom Shoppe.”

“Albus Severus Potter, what did you just say? You know very well that a great deal of the money we make goes right back into our business. Do you have any idea what it takes to produce and market those brooms? I know we had an exceptionally good year, especially with the sale to the British National Team, but those profits need to be saved for the bad years.”

“There are never any bad years Mum. Dad builds the finest brooms in Europe…and everyone knows it. You just want to put the money in Gringotts with Grandma and Grandpa Potter’s gold, so you can pass it down to Jimmy, Lily, and me…and then expect us not to spend a Knut of it. After that we can pass it on to our kids…and so on forever. Mum, we’re rich, and you’re turning into a miser.”

“Perhaps you would prefer that we turn into the likes of the Malfoys?” Ginny countered. She had said it without really thinking, and instantly regretted her tactic. At the same time however, she saw that it had the desired effect.

“Albus, money is a very powerful thing, and that power must be properly applied in this world. Your grandparents’ wealth is being used to quietly help support schools, medical clinics, and a dozen small businesses such as ours. Your father doesn’t talk about it, but he was the one who anonymously financed the reconstruction of that Muggle village after Mr. Hagrid’s brother went sleepwalking through it last summer.”

“I know Mum…really I do,” Albus meekly replied, “but it’s only nine Galleons. Couldn’t you spend it just this once?”

“Couldn’t you perhaps get a summer job the way Brenda did to earn money for her glove? Albus dear, your father and I just want you to learn the value of money, the importance of using it properly, and the benefits of acquiring a good work ethic. Life is not always simple and easy the way your Uncle Spenser’s is.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark. Do you have any idea how hard it is to produce a decent submission just a few days before a Challenge deadline? I have the worst writer’s block right now, and I may have to resort to another flashback story.” Spenser winked at Ginny, knowing she had seen him at her kitchen door when she had spoken.

Ginny grinned at him, but then continued to pretend to be indignant for another moment. A few seconds later, Harry stepped through the door himself with Spenser’s own daughter Jennifer in tow. The thirteen-year-old made a beeline to join Albus at the table. She gave her son a shy smile that reminded Ginny of one she might have had herself at that age.

“Woman of the house, I’ve brought the adopted uncle and niece home for dinner.” Harry delivered his wife a kiss. He was rewarded with a sincere smile himself, but then a more serious look that told him they had walked into a somber situation. Harry turned to look at his middle child, deciding that it might be better to get Albus’ side first. The boy’s frustration was evident, although he was trying hard to put on a proper face in front of his friend. Finally, his expression turned to one of resignation, and he took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded.

“Dad, is there any way that you could find some work for me in the Broomsmith Shoppe? I…I would really like to earn some Galleons for a new Keeper’s glove.”

Harry studied Albus’ face for a moment, and then glanced over at Ginny’s which displayed relief. “I suppose that you could take over some of your big brother’s duties while he’s doing his cooperative internship in Diagon Alley.”

“Feldercarb! Is he doing that already? Albie…”

“Please don’t call me that Uncle Spenser,” Albus futilely asked for the ten-thousandth time. He heard Jennifer giggle softly, and then turned red for the briefest moment before laughing himself.

“Sorry Albie,” Spenser continued, ignoring the boy’s cringing and Harry and Ginny’s suppressed smiles. “I was just going to say that if you were a bit older you could have gotten a great job like those we had that summer.”

“It was a definitely an experience Spenser,” Harry said with a look of amused recollection on his face. “We almost destroyed part of Diagon Alley, and you were only with us as part of the assignment for a couple of weeks. You ran back to Oregon.”

“I had to pack and ship my stuff over here to Hogwarts, didn’t I? The experience helped build character Albus.”

“You are certainly a character Spenser,” Ginny said then, pretending to be looking for something in a cupboard.”

“Why Mrs. Potter…that is one of the nicest compliments you ever made about me…and one of the only ones as well.” Suddenly a light appeared in Spenser’s eyes, which warned everyone that either a story had just popped into his head, or one of his dangerous ideas had. Reaching into his small knapsack, he produced a length of parchment and a Muggle fountain pen. He then set them down in front of a very puzzled Albus. “My boy, here’s a chance to earn a few Sickles…that is if your penmanship is as good as I remember.”

“Oh Papa, that’s my job!” Jennifer said in an offended voice. Spenser knew that she was pretending. The two teenagers had been born only moments apart (which is another story), were extremely close, and she would never withhold an opportunity for Albus to profit. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you with your stories.”

“Now Cricket, you know it’s your life’s ambition to be a professional housewife and slave over a hot stove all day. We should leave the writing to men…ar, ar, ar!” It was such a ludicrous statement that no one even blinked. They all knew the pair too well. Spenser was bursting his buttons with pride that Jennifer was following in his professional footsteps.

“If you say so Papa, but you promised me a new mop this summer,” she said, completing the joke.

“We’ll see. Albus, I think it’s time to jot down the story about that summer in Diagon Alley. You don’t mind do you Harry? Think of it as an effective learning experience for Albus as well. You don’t…great! Now let’s see…‘It was a dark and stormy night’; no I’ve used that one already haven’t I? How about, ‘It was the best of times…it was the worst of times’…no, I’d probably get into trouble with that one wouldn’t I? Ah, I know. You’ll really love this one.”


*****



Suddenly a shot rang out! At least it sounded like one to me. It has been long debated among Wizard authors whether the sound of an Apparation was more of a crack or a pop. Most canon, from Harry’s biographer, has it as a crack, but I’ve used both. Oh, excuse me…I’m getting off track here.

I turned to see that a middle-aged Wizard with neon-blue hair, had appeared in the tavern’s lobby beside me. His clothes apparently hadn’t been laundered since well before his last bath, and that, in turn, must have been around World War Two. Really…the smell would make a wand melt. Was that smoke or vapors rising off his hat? He could barely stand, and I was dumbfounded that he had been able to bring all his body parts with him during the Apparation.

Ignoring me, he started to stagger in the direction of the bar. Reaching a barstool, he seemed to feel that he should just collapse onto it instead of resorting to the ancient and respected art of sitting. He then began pounding the countertop, shouting for the innkeeper, and demanding firewhisky. Responding to the din, an angry proprietor emerged, and immediately slapped his face in frustration.

“Manny, I’ve had you tossed out of here twice today! You need to go sleep it off. I’m half-tempted to call for law-enforcement! I should… Neville, get your tail in here, and earn your pay for once! Manny, this is your last chance…and yours as well Longbottom!”

Now, I’ve experienced a lot of lot of strange things in my life, and being a writer, I often seek them out, but one of the oddest I can recall is seeing Neville Longbottom working as a bar bouncer. In preparation for coming to Hogwarts for my last year (I was an exchange student you will recall), I had been briefed that the school had a work-study program between the students’ sixth and seventh years. My Uncle Theodosius had arranged for me to do some sales work for Portland’s Fitzgumby’s Toys there, and while I had questioned the wisdom of it, it was a brilliant move compared to what I saw before me.

I had not met Neville before, and in fact, the only people I knew in England at all were Harry, Ginny, and Ron. We had spent a fascinating day together when I was twelve, but again that is yet another story. Despite being unfamiliar with him though, there were a few things that were quite evident about Neville. The first, of course, was that he too felt he was a mermaid, or rather a merman (Ethel?) out of water. He was timid, hesitant, and very shaky. I was extremely curious as to what he was going to do next.

He gave the barkeeper a sad look, and then slowly approached the drunken Manny. I half-expected him to pull out a wand and try to zap the man. Keeping an eye on Neville’s boss, I carefully reached for my wand, knowing somehow that the proprietor wasn’t going to help here. Instead of reaching for his own wand however, Neville produced a large white envelope, which he then opened and proceeded to examine the contents therein.

Those of us around him, including Manny, were instantly curious. Finally, Neville turned his attention back to the drunk, and I saw the same look in his eyes that I get when I have an idea. What? No, they are not all dangerous. Sheesh!

“Manny…I mean Mr. Shotz, have you ever heard of the mooshi plant. It’s a fascinating herb that has some miraculous healing qualities. Unfortunately, its root also tends to make garden gnomes go extremely mental for a short while.” At Neville’s words, all of our curiosity seemed to double in intensity. After a pause to ensure that the drunk was listening, Neville continued his lecture. “Sir, one of its curative aspects involves inebriation.” All at once, he popped what looked like a small seed into Manny’s mouth.

The reaction was almost instantaneous. Manny’s head jerked up, and his eyes began to clear. There were a number of stunned faces watching, and no one’s more so than the bartender’s. The employer suddenly turned to Neville, and began studying the young herbologist as if seeing him for the first time. He then slowly took the offered envelope, and scrutinized it himself for several moments.

“Longbottom, if this works as well on everyone as it did old Manny, you’re going to be one very rich Wizard. I’ll personally take all of it you can produce for the tavern.” With that, the man turned on his heel, and went off toward what I assumed to be a side office behind the bar. “Incidentally…I’m doubling your salary. Now go finish washing those shot glasses.”

“Buddy, that was incredible!” I told him. He seemed to be as surprised by my American accent as I had been by his performance. He began to examine me as if I were a rare Lithuanian tree-sponge elf. It was a bit startling for a moment, but the absolute sincerity of the guy immediately won me over.

“It…it really was nothing. My Herbology Club helped Professor Dunhickey develop a few minor cures after his farm’s harvest last October. There are a small number of glitches to work out still however.”

“Where am I? What year is it?” the former drunken man stammered out. “Ouch!” Mr. Emanuel Shotz then proceeded to fall flat on his face in front of us. Needless to say, Neville was more than a little bit embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Um…mooshi doesn’t seem to work on hangovers for some reason. The longer you are drunk…the more you’ve consumed…the more painful the morning after.”

“Neville, you may have killed this one. Hold on, I’m just joking.”

I turned to see someone new had joined us. I hadn’t seen him in five years, but I knew him immediately. He was older, taller, and had a more confident expression, but I was certain it was him–-Ron Weasley.

“We really do need to get him somewhere to sleep before your boss takes back that pay raise I just saw you get.”

“I…I suppose that we could put him in one of the empty rooms upstairs. The inn is almost empty. The war has been very bad for business, and we’re not even sure the school will reopen. It’s a bit discouraging,” Neville said, addressing this last part to me.

“Oh, I’m sorry…Neville, is it? My name is Spenser Hemmingway,” I said shaking his hesitant hand. “I don’t suppose either of you know a Hillary Granger? Uncle Theo arranged to have her meet me here…wherever here is.”

“We’re in the Leaky Cauldron, and her name is Hermione. She asked me to come in her place this morning though. Hermione just got booted off her job at the Comedy Cabaret. It seems that her career as a balloon-animal-making stand-up comedienne went down in flames. No one seemed to understand her jokes, especially the one about the clockmaker, the zebra, and Chasmaigne’s Theory of Quantum Levitation Spell applications. Speaking of which…” Ron drew his wand then, and, raising Hector into the air, started to move him in the direction of the stairway.”

“Ron,” Neville started, moving to keep up with his friend, “…maybe we should ask…”

“Come on, nobody will notice Neville. You said yourself the place is almost empty because of Voldemort. Oh, sorry Neville.”

“Ron, trust me on this one,” I said then. “People might notice. This guy smells like a troll’s gym socks on a hot summer’s day. Even with a quick Scourgify, I really think we need to find a room without any neighbors…in the entire wing.”


*****



“Well Spense, what have you been up to since we saw you last?” Ron asked as we walked through the magical brick gate and into the Alley.

“I finally started writing, and I’ve had a couple of short C-grade paperbacks and some stories published, but nothing to write home to Mother about. That’s a Muggle expression…”

“I’ve actually heard that one Spense. We’ve been out and about with quite a few Muggles this summer. Hey, do you mind if we swing by my brothers’ shop before we meet up with Harry? In fact, he may be there right now.”

“What? Oh, no problem. How are Harry and Ginny doing?” For some reason, my saying that stopped Ron in his tracks, and he gave a quick look around us as if he were looking out for any eavesdroppers. Yes…in fact that was exactly what he was looking to see.

“Mate…what do you mean by Harry and Ginny? There is no Harry and Ginny…understand and keep your voice down about them.” His expression was part worry and part curiosity for some reason. I’m sure mine displayed some of that as well.

“Um…I just was wondering how Harry was doing, and how Ginny was doing. You three are really the only people I got to know here on my last trip. That is except for the one girl with the mousy brown hair and the teeth that I met for a minute. You know…the one who got in that huge argument with you outside the book store, and then stormed off to meet her parents. I think that her name was Hildegard, Helena, or something like that. She sure didn’t like you good buddy. Whatever happened to her?”

“The teeth were…fixed, and she’s exceptionally beautiful. Oh, and she’s my girlfriend now.” Ron was biting his cheek, I could tell, watching me try to pull the shoelaces out from between my teeth as I extracted my foot from my mouth. “That’s okay…you didn’t know. I wasn’t aware of it myself until last year, and then it took me until this summer to tell her how I felt.”

“That must have been all mushy and romantic Ron.” I was smiling and trying to be humorous, but he obviously took the comment as genuine.

“To tell you the truth, before I could get a word out she clobbered me with a shovel. It was all good after that though mate, and I got back at her.”

“How?”

“I hadn’t brushed my teeth before that first kiss, and I ate sausage and Mum’s sauerkraut for lunch. Anyway, Harry and my sister are both doing fine, and let’s just leave it at that for now. I’m sorry Spenser, but it’s something Harry is going to have to talk to you about.” With that, he shoved both hands deep into his pockets, dug in his chin as if deep in thought, and quickened his pace.

After about ten minutes, we arrived at a medium-sized shop with a sign that read Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Ron had finally explained that both his brothers were out of the city for a few weeks, and that Ginny was watching over the business for them. He was very evasive as to why they were away, but I took a stab and asked if it had something to do with their war. He just gave me a worried look as if he had said something he shouldn’t have.

As Ron fumbled around for his keys, intending to let us in through the side office door, I took a minute to check out some of the wares in their display window. These ranged from Self-lighting Matches and Levitating Bubble Bath to Dissolving Umbrellas and Donkey Ear Cough Medicine. Ron explained this last product was actually an exceptionally good seller since it really was relatively effective as a coughs cure…if you didn’t mind four hours of the side-effects.

Cracking open the door, we were greeted with the sound of a slow, beautiful waltz, no doubt coming from a Wizard Wireless (we did have those in America, but we are so much more Mugglized that I’ve come to prefer my CD player). The other thing we encountered then stopped us in our tracks. It was Harry and a girl I knew had to be Ginny, holding each other remarkably close, and dancing, or rather just swaying to the music. Ron suddenly looked sick, and it wasn’t because Harry was holding his sister so close. All at once I understood quite a bit.

“Ron, you have my word of honor that I will never reveal to another person that Harry and Ginny are together. He’s trying to protect her by hiding their relationship, isn’t he? If anything, Ron appeared to be a bit paler. Hearing me speak, Harry and Ginny stopped and turned to us in surprise. He didn’t say anything for several seconds, but then approached me with Ginny, and began studying my eyes. I was trying to think of the right words to explain that this wasn’t exactly the best way to establish my trustworthiness.

Finally, “It’s okay Ron…it’s Spenser, and for some crazy reason I’ve always known I could trust this clown, even with our lives.”

“Uh…thanks Harry that means quite a lot to me.”

“Also, there are the half-dozen owls from a number of mutual friends reminding me I could,” he finished, giving me an evil grin. “We do need a better lock on the door though if we want another dance.”

“You just might want to do that Harry,” I pointed out. “Hello Ginny. You certainly have changed over the past five years, and you really do remind me of another…”

“I know Spenser. Now did you remember that catalog from Mr. Fitzgumby’s store?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Ah hah! Right down to business. I have one right here for you. I highly recommend the Self-winding Yo-yo’s and the Burundian Kowtowing Toady dolls that really drink double lattes. Are you a part of this cooperative jobs program?”

“No…no, I’m only going to be a sixth-year at Hogwarts, and Professor Flitwick is still angry with Fred and George for leaving school, so none of the students may work here, or at the Ministry for that matter. I’m just trying to keep them from going out of business too soon.

“My brothers are brilliant businessmen, but they don’t understand the first thing about store management, bookkeeping, or even purchasing office supplies. They had a fast-talking salesman in here last week who tried to sell them a life-time supply of pink wrapping paper…twelve pallets. I had to chase him off with my wand drawn. The way that George talked that day you would think he was going to buy the whole lot…at least before I stepped in.”

“Hmm…well if you told me he was going to buy the whole lot of my inflatable fire-breathing dragons, I would be thrilled to beers…er, tears.”

“We’ll see,” she said laughing. “The two of them really are unsurpassed with product development, advertising, marketing, and manufacturing, but double-entry accounting is much the same as Ancient Runes to them. They’ve threatened to lock me in a closet to keep me from leaving them for school in September. I’m trying to find someone now to baby-sit them after I go.”

Just then, the clock on the wall chimed twelve-thirty, and it caused an immediate reaction. “Crum Harry, we both need to get back to our own jobs,” Ron blurted out. Harry gave Ginny a quick yet intense kiss, and then he and Ron each grabbed an arm and rushed me out the door with them.


*****



The three of us ran several blocks before Harry motioned to slow down. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if along the way he had made subtle gestures…hand waves at times…to inanimate objects and disinterested bystanders. I suppose that it could have been innocent enough, but I was suddenly curious why there was a giant barrel cactus in front of an English tropical fish store, a cigar-store Indian in front of a shop catering to expectant mothers, and a man in a Santa Claus costume ringing a charity bell in the middle of July. Harry finally noticed that I had noticed and placed a hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

“They really are trying not to draw attention to themselves,” he quietly said out of the corner of his mouth. “They’re our protection. It was decided that canceling the job internship this summer because of a Death Eater threat would be sending the wrong message. We really want the school to reopen in September. The Ministry has dumped every capable, and just as many incapable, Auror and law enforcement Wizard they have into Diagon Alley for the summer. I’m afraid that a great many of them aren’t very good with their disguises.”

“Harry, that’s putting it lightly. The one dressed as a polar bear last week caused all sorts of trouble. If the Order didn’t have people in the Alley too, I don’t think that Dad could have convinced Mum to let us work here.”

“The Order?” I asked. Their looks shouted at me to shut up, and I did, merely trotting along to keep up with their once again quickened pace.

Five or six minutes later brought us to a narrow passageway between two dirty white marble buildings. We turned into it, and proceeded for another twenty yards. It opened into a large courtyard, about which were situated four different businesses. The first thing I noticed was a large, ancient oak tree that grew in the middle of the area, with a narrow, well-worn bench encircling it. I also saw that the cobblestones were much darker and time-polished, suggesting this might be one of the older sections of a very, very old Wizarding neighborhood.

The establishments there before me could not have been any more different from each other if I were making them up for a story (don’t say it). The first was The Bullinna China and Glass Shop, the second was Bloward’s Used Kazoo Emporium, next to this was F.E. Elign’s, Cat Mortuary, Est. 1499, and finally we had Honest Cal’s Used Brooms. It was perfect.

“Harry, Ron…I love England. I’m going to be able to produce a thousand words a day here for my stories.” Oops! That was not the right thing to say. “Guys, listen to me. Yeah, I am going to write. That is what I do…what I love to do. You can have my guts on a platter though before I let anyone read a word of what you don’t want people to have. If you don’t believe that, please tell me now, and I’m on the first broom out of here.”

Ron gave me a hard look, but not an accusing one. Harry didn’t even hesitate, and somehow…somehow I knew he wouldn’t. He merely gave me that same evil grin. Who had he been around lately to learn that one?

“If you do decide to take off on a broom, I can get you a great deal on a thirty-year-old Ether-Edsel ’66. It was only flown to weekly church services and Saturday BINGO by a very nice ninety-eight-year-old widow.” I suddenly knew which of the four businesses here employed Harry. “She finally traded it in for a Mega-Ray XSS with turbo-boost and triple racing drag-chutes.”

“Like I said…I’m going to love England. We’re square with each other?” Ron smiled now as well, and I saw that they really did trust me for some incredibly stupid reason. What had people told them about me?

“Come on Spense. Let’s meet Harry’s boss,” Ron finally said, taking the lead as we approached the first building. I was still trying to determine which of the others was where Ron was assigned. “Oh, and there’s one thing that we need to warn you about. He is very sensitive about…”

Boom!!

Before Ron could finish his sentence, out from the used broom shop flew a rather large, nice. and seemingly new Wizard Wireless box. It was immediately followed by an intensely angry older gentleman bearing a smoking wand in one hand, and a carefully balance teacup in the other. I knew better than to ask if it actually contained tea.

“Mr. Worthington…please! I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have tried to listen to his rubbish! Ron, Harry, please explain to him!”

“Hermione, we told you not to tune into that tripe they’re sending over the Wireless,” Ron told her. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to be concerned in the least about what had happened but was instead was making just a patient admonition. If Harry was fazed by the incident, he gave even less of an indication. It was as if this was a daily occurrence. From what I had seen of the business world of Diagon Alley, it well may have been.

“Harry, it is about time you returned!” Cal Worthington shouted. His ire seemed to still be directed elsewhere other than toward his employee. Regardless, Harry was not moved at all by the words. “That bloody Death Eater…and I do indeed mean that in the literal sense, was again on the Wireless promoting appeasing He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named! Weasley, can’t your father’s flippin’ Ministry put a stop to this propaganda?”

“They’re trying sir. No one knows where the broadcasts are originating. No one knows anything, except that whoever is behind it has power and great resources.”

“Bah Weasley! All their assets should have been seized when the Dark Lord returned…every last bloody supporter of his!” Worthington continued. I saw that his words were finally hitting home to Harry.

“Sir,the great wealth that many of them still have wields great power. That in turn, rightly or not, preserves that very wealth. I’m sure there are a large number of people searching to find who is behind this campaign.” Harry took a step forward and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder then, as if to make a point. “I promise you sir, there are indeed people out there who will work tirelessly to put a stop to this.”

I don’t know if it was what Harry had just said, or merely the weight of the world finally coming to rest, but the man’s shoulders seemed to sag a bit more. He turned about, and then, without a word, walked back to his used broom store. I was more at sea than ever.

“I really am sorry Harry,” the girl Hermione said then. “I merely wanted to hear the news. You can’t trust the Daily Prophet anymore. Between the Ministry and this mysterious Snydlee Conglomerate, we’re all beginning to feel cut off from the truth and each other.”

“I don’t suppose anyone has tried to triangulate and then trace the magic carrying the Wireless signal?” I heard myself asking. The girl, finally noticing me, turned and began her own study regarding who and what I was. This seemed to be happening a lot lately, and I wondered if I had grown another (equally handsome) head. Anyway, what is it they say about turnabout? I took a full minute to take Hermione in as well. Yes, she was very pretty, and I decided that Ron was a lucky guy.

“Excuse me, have we met? You look extraordinarily familiar for some reason?” she finally asked. Actually, I was about to ask her the same thing.

“Well, believe it or not, we did five years ago, but just for a moment. I’m the guy you were supposed to meet this morning before you lost your job.”

“Which job?” she asked of no one in particular. “How silly of me…of course, the American. I am so very sorry, but it’s been an extraordinarily dreadful day.”

“Hermione, what did you mean by which job?” Ron asked with a cringing expression, as if he already knew the answer.

“I…um, that is I…I was sacked from the second job this morning as well. Marcella’s Traveling Street Mimes didn’t appreciate my getting into arguments with their audience…verbal arguments. It really wasn’t entirely my fault you see. That family was literally bunting their house-elf down the street in front of us. They threatened to lock me in a real invisible box if I continued to speak in his behalf.”

“Hermione! When are you going to give up on this crazy notion that the elves want to be free. They love what they do for their room and board. Their jobs are their lives. Even Dobby is still pretty much doing what he did before he was free. You need to stop it and…ouch, be careful. That hurts! Hermione let go of my ear! What are you doing?”

“Harry and…excuse me, what was your name?”

“Spenser Hemmingway. I’m a writer.” Oh great! Telling her that seemed to go over big. She was suddenly acting in an aloof manner toward me as if I were some manner of malcontent. My problem was that I decided I liked the girl for some reason. It just might take some real work to be friends.

“Spenser it is then. If you will excuse us; Ron and I need to talk about…modern employment labor relations. Harry, I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Ouch, let go of my flippin’ ear! I swear I’m going to haul off and do something unpleasant, but non-lethal to you! Ouch! Oww!”

With that, she led him off in the direction of the Kazoo Emporium to continue their light debate.


*****



The next five days were some of the most fascinating of my life. I understood now why Uncle Theo had arranged this specific sales job for me. Fitzgumby’s products pretty much sold themselves, and it allowed me to travel all over the area meeting people, and thus gathering material for future stories. I loved every minute of it too. I explored places such as Melville’s Whale-watching supplies, Springford’s Wholesale Bungee-jumping Equipment, Melblanc’s Talking Rabbit Shoppe (which I avoided after seeing some little bald-headed fellow rush inside with a shotgun), and my favorite, Harlequin’s Used Paperbacks. I was a bit disappointed though that they didn’t carry either of my own books, and suspicious of why there were burn-marks on the carpet where they should have been located. Hmmm?

The other thing that I was enjoying was getting to know my friends again, and to meet new ones. Every day after work we would all gather at the Leaky Cauldron to compare notes, swap stories, and just plain relax after a long day. That is not saying that everyone was ever completely at ease. The tales that I was beginning to hear about the war with Voldemort turned my stomach as much as they did my head. I found myself waving to potted plants and garbage receptacles that may or may not have held some of our protection.

It was in our little courtyard (I was staying in a room above the broom shop with Harry and Ron) where I first met Seamus Finnigan. Their Professor Flitwick, for some reason, had elected to assign him to work in the neighboring glass shop. I didn’t understand the joke at first, until one day I was helping haul some garbage from our quarters to the shared dumpster. Ten feet out, the lid blew far into the sky, bringing a number of those Aurors charging out from their respective hiding places. Harry merely put up a hand as if it were the most common of events.

“It’s all right…it’s just Seamus again.” The comment stopped all of them dead, and they merely cursed under their breath and returned to find new camouflage. “Come on out Seamus. No one is threatening to turn you into a mundark this time.”

From behind the container stepped a now-filthy and somewhat scorched Seamus. He seemed to be more embarrassed than anything, and I suddenly knew that he must be the one working in the Bullinna China and Glass Shop. What could make more sense in this place?

“I’m sorry Harry. I was trying to engage a trash compacting spell I heard about. Everything exploded instead of imploding.”

“It’s okay mate. Come on inside and we’ll clean you up a bit…that is if we can,” Harry told him. Either as a demonstration of their friendship, or because he had become so desensitized to Seamus blowing things up, Harry showed no reaction, and offered no further comment about what had happened. Later however, I just had to ask.

“Harry, I know that things are different over here, but I just can’t understand some of the jobs that I have seen assigned. Neville Longbottom as a bouncer, a pyromaniac working in a glass store…”

“Actually Spenser, he doesn’t set things on fire as much as blow them up,” Ron pointed out, joining us at the tavern table with a full pitcher.

“I guess I can appreciate Harry in a broom shop, but what about that Arithmancy genius you told me about who is working daycare center? I know, what about Hermione working in stand-up comedy, or as a mime, or delivering singing telegrams? Shouldn’t she be working in a bookstore, or as a research assistant somewhere?”

“Actually, Hermione has a beautiful voice, and that’s not why she was canned yesterday.” Harry and I looked up at this revelation, and Ron once again looked embarrassed. “She…she didn’t want to say anything, but she was fired again because…”

“Because I refused to sing those disgusting lyrics. They were inappropriate for a family story, even when I’m not on the page at the moment.” Her eyes showed us that she had been crying a great deal, and we knew it involved more matters than she was willing to discuss just then. Even when Ron stood up to meet her, she was unwilling to relate her experiences from that day.

“Hermione…”

“No Ronald. I am quite fine.” Of course, she wasn’t. We could all see that. She then did something completely unexpected, drawing her wand there in the Leaky Cauldron and then pointing it at Ron. “Petrificus Totalus!” she called out in a louder voice than she needed, incapacitating him on the spot. “I’m so sorry Ron. I love you too. Harry please release him five minutes after I’ve left. I need to go to my new job now.” She then kissed Ron lightly on the cheek, and turned toward the door.

“Wait Hermione, what new job? What are you doing?”

Freezing in her tracks, we could tell without seeing her face that she was considering whether to tell us or not. I could hear her crying again, and I knew that Harry could as well.

“I’ve…I’ve taken a job as a stripper.” She was bolting through the door before finishing the sentence, and definitely before we could react to this bolt from the blue. We immediately freed Ron, but before we could catch the girl outside, she was gone from sight.


*****



Things weren’t the same after that. Ron was missing far too many of his required hours at the Kazoo Emporium, and the only thing that helped him retain his job was the owner’s continued drunken state (no, Ron didn’t work for Manny Shotz). My own duties, or serious lack thereof, allowed me to fill in for my friend, and it permitted him in turn to try to find Hermione. I just logged it as an extended sales’ call on site.

Now while Neville had done better than either he (or anyone) had expected, Ron exhibited a brilliance that could only be compared to…well Ginny with their brothers’ store. I really wondered where she would end up when it was her turn for a real summer internship. Anyway, from what I could see during my few shifts at this shop, Ron was a latent genius.

“Harry…Ginny, did either of you know what that place next door was like before Ron started there a few weeks ago? It was a firetrap, tax write-off. Ron has expanded their inventory, brought in outside music instructors, a library of decent sheet music, and even talked a local gentleman into organizing a boys’ toad choir. Why do I keep being surprised by everyone doing extraordinary, incredible things?”

The two just smiled at me for a minute. It was as if they were privy to some undisclosed secret. That is, other than whatever they weren’t telling me yet about the war.

“Spenser, you didn’t know this, but my brother greatly loves music. He is very accomplished on the rosewood recorder he received as a child.”

“I think that I can answer your question about Professor Flitwick’s assignments now Spense,” Harry said then. “He made the final choices not based upon our capabilities, but rather upon what we might learn. Neville working as a bouncer has taught him a great deal about dealing with the general public, often in a stressful situation. Seamus has been able to develop a much gentler touch, and to appreciate things associated with it. In fact, he’s spending today learning glass-blowing in Muggle London. Ron has learned that he really has an interest…a love outside of Quidditch. Most of the Slytherins were given jobs to teach them a bit of humility, but it remains to be seen how many score a decent grade this summer.”

“What about you Harry?” He seemed to be seriously considering how to answer my question.

“Come with me into the workshop.” Ginny and I followed him in, but I could tell that she already knew what I didn’t.

“Potter, get over here,” a giant of a man called out to him. He was covered in sawdust, had straw particles in his beard, and I immediately recognized him as the head repairman there. “Do you see how the interior bristles of this broom are still firm and straight, but the outermost ones are covered in mold. That tells me that this broom was left out in the weather, but only for a short time. They could have saved it themselves with early action. Tell me, what should we do?”

“We should uh…”

“Uh? Is that under ‘U’ in the repair manual? We should uh? I’ll have to remember that one.”

“We should do a microscrape on the outer bristles now sir,” Harry said, regaining his confidence. “Replacing them all will throw the rest of the brush out of balance, and then all we will have achieved is a cosmetic fix. This is a Flashfire Mr. Winkler, and it deserves a far better fate than cleaning floors in a pumpkin juice plant. If you intertwine the intermittent straw between the good and the…”

“What? Have you gotten into the firewhisky again Potter? That will take all night! Where did you get a crazy idea like that?”

“From you sir, and yes it will take all night. I believe it’s your turn to buy the coffee.” The two stared each other down then, neither one willing to blink, and I had no doubt that both knew they were right.

“Good answer son,” the shop foreman finally said. “Maybe you have learned something after all this summer. Okay you’re on. I’ll have Shuster get started, but you can relieve him at eleven. If we get this done by morning there will be a big bonus from the customer for all of us…including you. In the meantime,” he looked straight over at Ginny who was returned his glance with an uncertain expression, “I expect you to get at least a little rest.” He gave Ginny a wink, slammed shut his tool box, and limped off in the direction of the front office leaving me at least a bit confused.

“That’s why I was sent here Spenser. He’s a slave driver, and I’ve never worked so hard in my life, but I’ve learned so much. Do you see how he holds a broom and looks at it? He almost caresses it, but when he does, he can tell you every bit of its capabilities, history, and probably what the last rider had for breakfast. No one in this tiny business will ever become wealthy here, but they all love what they do and produce, and especially how they feel at the end of the day. As for me, I’ve especially learned that there is more to Harry Potter than fighting Voldemort, Quidditch, and becoming an Auror.”

“Ahem!”

“Much, much more,” he said before delivering a kiss to Ginny that literally shook the building.

Boom! Boom!

“Harry, Seamus isn’t here today you said,” I called out as we dove behind a workbench.

“It doesn’t sound as if Mr. Worthington is taking out his frustrations about the appeasement propaganda on the Wireless either,” Ginny added.

“Harry, could this be your friendly, neighborhood Death Eaters come for tea?” I asked in all seriousness despite the wording. In response, Harry pulled out two wands and started toward the shop door at a trot.

“Ginny, you stay…like I said, Ginny you have my left side. Spenser…”

“I have your back side good buddies.” He gave me an appraising look, but only for a heartbeat before making up his mind and driving on.

The scene outside was like something off of a bad television action show. The glass shop’s front door was blown in, and the proprietor was wrestling on the ground with an attacker. One worker from the broom shop, who was trying to extinguish flames darting about the oak tree, was hit by a bolt. He was instantly covered by a coworker’s body seeking to protect the man. There appeared to be five of them, and if they were the Death Eaters that Ron had described to me, they certainly weren’t dressed for it. These seemed to be common thugs (although carrying excellent wands) and just looking to destroy the courtyard businesses.

Zapfzz!” Harry shouted. The medium stun bolt hit the man squarely in the chest. He took out the one fighting with the glass store owner in a similar manner. A third man, approaching Harry’s blind side, found himself flying off through the air. Ginny had used the Empedium Max Spell on him, hurling the gentleman at least a mile. The spell was designed as not to kill, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a few broken bones at the other end.

Seeing their comrades fall that way, the last two demonstrated their lack of mutual loyalty when they ran to their brooms and took off not into the sky, but out through the courtyard’s entryway and into the Alley at street-level. The neighborhood must have had wards preventing the Muggles from discovering it because of a careless flyer shooting off across London.

Accio Firebolt!” Harry yelled then, and I was amazed when one actually shot out of our upstairs bedroom window. Where had he gotten that? He jumped aboard it before it had even slowed and was instantly off in pursuit of the two.

“Come on Spenser,” Ginny quickly said as we ran for the shop.

“Who were these guys Gin?”

“I think that they are from that mega-wealthy Snydlee Conglomerate. They are trying to buy out a score of businesses, so they can level them and build a huge Wizardmart. Can you fly?”

“Like an owl.”

“You haven’t met Errol.”

At the shop door, Mr. Winkler met us with two very nice brooms, the make of which I could not recognize. Ginny gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and was immediately off. The man looked a bit hurt when I just took mine and followed after her without another kiss. I was saving myself for the latest Popular Plumbing cover girl.

Shooting out of the entry passage into Diagon Alley proper, I was worried at first if I could follow the others. There was no need since they had left a path of overturned carts, people on their bellies, and torn store canopies. I made the assumption that I would have to stay below the height of the top of the tallest building, which here wasn’t that high. I also didn’t want to drop so low where I would decapitate someone. Who had talked me into this?

After about two minutes, I finally caught up with Ginny and saw that Harry was only about twenty yards ahead of us. We dodged and hugged buildings as we made sharp turns, and several times missed large architectural projections by inches (if that). It was the tightest of obstacle flying, and while I considered myself an excellent broom jockey, I could see that Ginny was still better than I was, and Harry was in a master’s class.

Another five minutes brought us into sight of the two, and it was here that Harry pulled up and signaled for us to join him. He motioned for us to keep our voices low and to proceed at a slow speed.

You think it’s the Snydlee Conglomerate too?” he asked.

“I don’t know much about how things work over here Harry, but if they are anything like some of the American business syndicates, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. Let me guess…they want to have their mall, and the small businesses can’t compete with it. A lot of good, hard-working people would be out on the street unable to avoid being undercut with cheap goods. Is that it?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” Harry said. “They’ve been harassing the small businesses around the courtyard for months. Mr. Worthington thought they would back off with all the Aurors protecting the student interns.”

“Where were the Aurors?” I asked then.

“I’d be willing to venture that someone was paid off,” Ginny suggested.

“Harry, promise me you’ll never try to be rich.”

“Too late Spenser. Close your mouth and stop gawking like that,” he added, but with a smile at my reaction. “Do you know the Juggermail Spell?”

“The shielding charm that the old Wizards used when they did broom jousting? Yeah, but it’s worthless against magic bolts.”

“I hope we won’t need it for that. Look, if they have paid off some of the Aurors, then we can’t trust them to not tip the people off in that building they just entered.”

“Huh? What building? Oh come on, pay attention Spense!” I told myself, completely embarrassed that I hadn’t been paying attention. “What about your Order of the Phoenix?”

“Wait, how did you find out about them?” Ginny asked this time.

“Um, uh…I read it in something called The Quibbler. Don’t worry…”

“…you won’t mention what little you know,” Harry finished. “I know. We just don’t have time for that now. Tell me Spense how crazy are you?”

“He’s an American Harry,” Ginny answered for me.

“This was definitely not in my summer job description!” I said in surrender. “Oh well, have either of you ever seen True Grit?”

Harry gave me a grin, Ginny a quick kiss (and I was happy he got it in the right order), and then shot off on his Firebolt. Doing a quick loop to gain speed, he next aimed his broom at a boarded-up picture window, and drove it straight through. Two seconds later Ginny took hers through another one to its left.

“Here we go,” I said to myself, and then, as I sped at it myself, “Play your hand you son of a troll! Wahoo!” With that I slammed into the window that was on Harry’s opposite side.


*****



“All right, let me get this straight. There were fourteen hired goons, six Death Eaters, and three ogres, and Mr. Hemmingway took them all out by himself?” Kingsley Shacklebolt did not appear to especially believe them, and since I really didn’t remember anything after my war whoop, I was a bit doubtful myself…just a bit.

“Yes sir, that’s exactly right,” Harry explained with a straight face. “Unfortunately, all except the five inside escaped capture. We did locate the rouge Wizard Wireless transmitter however. The Snydlee Conglomerate executive under the table there will no doubt explain how his employer has been working with Voldemort’s followers…again under the table. The Death Eaters supply low-level muscle to help persuade local merchants to sell out to Wizardmart, and in turn receive help and financial backing for their Wireless broadcasts.”

“They must have decided to attack the merchants there today because Harry was on site,” I added. “Quick damage in a raid, right under the nose of The Chosen One, and both sides in the partnership have a psychological victory. The only problem was that Harry was on site.

“Where he…all of you used underage magic,” Shacklebolt pointed out.

“They did attack us first,” Ginny answered for all of us, “and Spenser turned seventeen last Saturday. That’s why we let him take on the nasties here.”

“Shoot, I did have a birthday on July seventeenth. How could I have forgotten that? Ouch! Doc, could you go easy on the head…and the arm…and the leg? Ouch!”

“Spenser, you are such a child sometimes. Sir, may we go back to the courtyard now? I’m a bit worried about our friends.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt studied all of us for a good five minutes without saying a word. The only real sounds were my whimpering as the Field Healer repaired my broken bones. I knew that Shacklebolt was a bit concerned about Harry and Ginny, especially after they had found the five bound Aurors behind one of the shops. They had quickly apprehended the two traitorous Aurors who had sold out for large bags of Galleons. In his line of work it would take Shacklebolt a while to again be comfortable with such an environment.

“Go ahead Harry, but there will be a number of friends from that club watching over you as you go…just in case.”

“Spenser already knows about the Order Mr. Shacklebolt,” Ginny told him. “He read about it in The Quibbler.

“What?”

“Actually, my uncle briefed me about you. Theodosius Bear–-he…well has some involvement with you from over in America. Harry has been a little hesitant with his secrets, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with how much I already knew. Sorry pal.”

I expected him to get mad, but instead he just started laughing very hard. I would have joined in, but my ribs hurt too much.


*****



Almost a half-hour’s walk/limping had us back to the merchants’ courtyard. Here I pulled up and motioned for Harry and Ginny to stop.

“Okay you two, what really happened back there?”

“Well Spenser,” Harry began, “I crashed through the barricaded window, just like you saw using the Juggermail Shield, and I stunned two of them quickly. Ginny crashed in then and surprised the others so I could take one and she the other. The last one however expelled my wand, and he had the drop on both of us. That’s when you hit the house. He jerked around expecting you to come through the wall, and that’s when I used my back-up wand to hurl a Zapfzz stun bolt at him.”

“I didn’t come through that boarded up window I hit?”

“You forgot to engage the Juggermail Shield Spell Spenser,” Ginny explained. “Still, you did save us after a fashion by distracting the man. Spenser, please don’t slap your…”

“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”

“Spenser what did you do to yourself?” Hermione asked, walking up to us there. She was covered in grime and what looked like some sort of stain. With her, I was pleased to see, was a very happy Ron Weasley.

“Would you believe that a very large bunny rabbit jumped up and tackled me?”

“It must have weighed a ton,” Ron said, stating the obvious. “Hey Harry, Mr. Worthington told us what happened. I’m really sorry. I should have been here for you.”

“It’s fine Ron, but where have you been…both of you?” The two looked extremely embarrassed at the question and took several moments to answer.

“I found out where Hermione was stripping, and I had to go get her,” Ron sheepishly said.

“What? You were working as a stripper Hermione?” Ginny screamed. “How could you? No job is worth your doing that.”

“This one was Ginny. After being fired from all those other jobs, Professor Flitwick wrote me saying that if I lost another I would have to repeat my internship next summer instead of graduating. It would be at the Diagon Alley Garbage Collection Point. I was extremely upset. I had to take this job, but I wasn’t sure how well I would do. I just couldn’t have Ron seeing me there.”

“I should say not,” Harry said then in a low tone. “For once I hope you were fired quickly. I’m a little embarrassed for you myself.”

“Actually Harry, she did great. She even let me work with her today…even though were only supposed to have one person to a job site.”

“You two worked together stripping? Mum’s going to flay you alive!”

“Why would she sis? We put a lot of hard work in on that roll top desk.”

“You two stripped together on a roll top desk?” I asked then, forcing my bulging eyes back into their sockets.

“We didn’t strip on the desk…we stripped the desk itself,” Ron explained. “It took a lot of work too. There were at least three different coats of varnish on it. It was nowhere as hard as stripping the paint off that rocker. Don’t you think Hermione?”

“I would say that the oak filing cabinet was the hardest project today Ron. Spenser, are you going to slap…?”

“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!”


*****



After everyone had finished dinner, Jennifer, Albus, and Spenser sat down to examine what they had written. It was a bit rough, but they knew that they would eventually have something they could publish. Harry whispered to Ginny as they washed the dishes about how the little project might have had some very good results.

“So Albus, what do you think you’ve learned here today?” Harry finally asked the boy.

“Well, I…I think that…that it wasn’t enough to want to see Uncle Henry and Auntie Em…and it’s that…if I ever want to go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own backyard.”

“Cut! Cut! Okay who goofed up and slipped in the final lines from the Wizard of Oz? You…you there with the cue cards!”

“Yes Mr. Spielberg.”

“This is the third story that you’ve goofed up this summer. That’s it! You’re fired! I’m sorry Harry, you and your family are great, it’s just that these Hogwarts summer job interns are driving me to drink. You…you with the catering lady. What house are you in?”

“Ravenclaw sir.”

“Great! You’re my new cue card girl. All right, let’s take it from your line Harry. Ready and…action!”

“So Albus, what do you think that you’ve learned here today?” Harry finally asked the boy.

“Well Dad, I guess that I learned from Mr. Longbottom that you really can do more than you would ever think you could if you apply yourself and your skills.

“I learned from Mom how with her strengths combined with Uncle Fred and Uncle George’s the final result was even better than working separately.

“From Mr. Finnigan I learned that you really can overcome any weaknesses you may have if you work hard and keep trying.

“With Uncle Ron, I saw how important it is to explore, and really find out what it is you love to do.

“I guess that with Aunt Hermione, she got to do quite a bit of exploring before she found something she could do well. Of course, a job in a paint and varnish stripping shop might not have a lot to do with her running her school now.

“From Dad, I learned that how you do something is as important as what the end product is. There is a lot to appreciate with that end of the day feeling you described. I also learned that what Mum said about the power associated with money is true, but that it does have to be a destructive thing the way it was with that business syndicate. Mostly, I guess, I learned that what you do in life really does help shape the person you are inside as well.”

“Did you learn anything from my experiences Albie?” Spenser asked.

“Oh yeah; I learned a few things. I learned how important it is to be loyal and gutsy. I learned that not everyone is cut out to be an amateur Auror. I especially learned that you really have to be a fantastic liar sometimes in order to write a good humor story.”

“Cut! Hit the Save Button! Mischief managed!





A/N: My respects and apologies to Mr. Spielberg, Daniel Radcliffe, and The world of The Wizard Of Oz.
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