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Power Tools…Ar, Ar, Ar!
By Spenser Hemmingway

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 11
Summary: It is one week before Bill and Fleur's wedding, and Harry has a little project to take care of...quickly. A one-shot story that includes Spenser coming to England to attend Hogwarts.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4077



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 of you who have never read anything of mine, Spenser Hemmingway is an American exchange student who comes to Hogwarts from Oregon, befriends Harry and Ginny, and then writes a number of stories about the two. He is mischievous, sometimes clumsy, and an excellent device to explain why my stories sound as if they were written by an American.




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Power Tools…Ar, Ar, Ar!

By Spenser Hemmingway


Real men don't use instructions, son. Besides, this is just the manufacturer's opinion on how to put this together.”–-Tim Allen, Home Improvement



“Dagblast it Harry, I can’t see a blessed thing through this cloud!” I yelled back to him over the sound of the rushing wind carrying us along. “These confounded feathers aren’t helping things either! Ginny, are we getting close to your house?”

“I think we are Spenser.” She pointed her wand, or rather allowed it to point itself almost straight down. The directional spell she was using seemed to have satisfied her. “I’ll just dissipate the cloud now, so you can see the Burrow.”

“No Ginny wait!” Harry yelled, but it was too late. In our haste to apply the charm that was hiding us from Muggle eyes, we had forgotten to tell her it might be somehow tied to the charm that was keeping us aloft at the moment. It was; we dropped like a rock suddenly. Harry hastily reapplied the flying spell, but, at that point, we were doing little more than holding on for dear life in a controlled crash.

“From now on I’m not going anywhere without a broom!” Harry yelled.

“We should have Apparated home instead of trying this,” Ginny added, but knew Harry hated popping about as much as Hermione disliked flying. She and Ron had left Portland a day before us in order to visit her parents before Bill Weasley’s wedding. We had no doubt that their trip must have been a much calmer one.

“Well we were in a bit of a hurry. How was I supposed to know those Muggle football players could pass through the portal Gate from Oregon to London?” I called over my shoulder. I was frantically trying to modify our descent, but with very little success. I risked a quick glance back and saw the two holding on to each other as well as to our improvised craft. Their expressions were more accusing than they were scared. Okay…yes it was my fault. Those guys from that college fraternity had really hated the story I wrote about them. For the record, American defensive linemen rarely wear ballet tutus…in public. Hopefully, the British Ministry people could alter their memories, and then get them home safely.

After several seconds, I was able to level us off, and then began circling what I assumed to be the Burrow. It appeared to be a multi-storied house, built in a style that…well it had its own style. It looked well-constructed albeit it a little odd in character. It also seemed to be snug, cozy, and the type of place a person would love to call home. There was one other thing I noticed…several people running around the yard, pointing at us, and…aiming their wands upward!

Wham! Wham! Wham! Now I knew how a Muggle bomber crew must have felt during the war. I had to get us down fast.

“Harry, you and Ginny had better Disapparate down there, and tell them I’m on your side…even if I am an American.”

“Spenser!”

“No Harry…I’m covered from head-to-toe with molasses and feathers, plus they don’t know me yet…and they may have read some of my stories. You two go. With my luck, this thing would crash into a Muggle orphanage or something if I don’t ride it down.”

“Okay mate…we’re on our way,” Harry said. Then giving me a big grin, “By the way…welcome back to England.” With that, he took Ginny’s arm, and the two popped away from me.

With their weight gone, I rose up in the air as if in a balloon that had dropped ballast. Twice more I was hit with magical bolts before they could stop the barrage. The damage was done however. My speed increased, and if I was still actually steering, it was barely perceptible, and requiring every once of will that I could call upon. Down, down I came…right at the house. At the last possible second, I dropped to my stomach, hoping the heavy cast-iron would somehow protect me.

Through the outside wall I crashed hearing and feeling wood, glass, and plaster pass over me. My speed was significantly reduced, but I still had enough forward momentum to carry me through yet another wall, and then still a third; this one finally halting my progress. As the dust settled, I risked rising up to look, and found myself halfway through the other outside wall. Down below me was a small crowd that included a girl with bubblegum pink hair, a one-legged man with a strange false eye, and a pair of tall redheads that had to be Ginny’s twin brothers.

“Well there is something you don’t see everyday,” one said.

“…a chicken in a flying antique bathtub destroying your family home,” the other finished.


*****



“So, you’re the Yank that Minerva has been telling us about,” the one man, Mad-Eye Moody (I was told), said. He was giving me an appraising look. Fortunately, the girl named Tonks had taken the time to pluck me and clean up the sticky gunk. “I understand you’re some sort of artist. Ever been to England before?”

“Um, actually I’m a writer, and yes…twice for short visits. In fact, I met Harry and Ginny in London a few years ago. Incidentally, most Americans don’t like being called Yanks anymore than you like being called a Brit. That is except for my sworn enemies from New York City. I’m a Seattle Mariners fan myself.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later,” Harry said, walking over with the twins to where we sat in the garden. The three of them had finally extracted the bathtub from the wall and had hidden it behind the broom shed. I turned and looked up to survey the damage, or at least what I could see from outside. I had definitely done it this time.

As the three of us had emerged on the run from the new London gate earlier, we found ourselves on a dilapidated Soho street, and hid from our Muggle pursuers behind an abandoned building. That was when I came up with the brilliant idea to enchant the old tub we found there. Harry, who was extremely anxious to try the spell, had assisted me while Ginny conjured up the masking cloud. We blended into the real ones over the city just enough to keep from being noticed traveling faster than we should have been.

“You’re lucky that Mum and Dad are in France for a couple days visiting Fleur’s family,” Fred said (or was that George?).

“We’re going to have to be sure to be on hand when she sees this,” the other one added. “The wedding is a week away.”

“How did you get her away from here?” Ginny asked. “Mum has been working night and day like a demon to finish all the preparations. She had a fit when we left for Oregon just to attend Mr. Bear’s own wedding for two days.”

“Your dad insisted she take a quick breath of air…we all did. This wedding has become so large it’s making the Quidditch World Cup look like a small Sunday picnic. Why, Longbottom and that Loony girl alone have been visiting every greenhouse and garden within a hundred miles, just for the flowers.”

“Please don’t call her that Uncle Alastor,” Ginny said with a tinge of irritation in her voice. “Luna Lovegood is a very dear friend, and twice she’s stood beside us to fight the Death Eaters.” Moody’s expression told her that she had made her point.

“Luna Lovegood?” I asked.

“I’ll introduce you later Spenser. I believe that you’ll like her,” she said.

“Right now, what are we going to do about the house?” Harry asked, bringing us back to the matter at hand. “We’ve destroyed two bedrooms, one of which was decorated for Bill and Fleur, and we only have a couple days to have it fixed.”

“We?” the twins said together, slowly backing away from the rest of us. Both Moody and Tonks lifted their hands to indicate they were at a loss as well. Everyone just stared at the hole in the house with perplexed looks. Finally, Harry stood up and nodded as he studied what needed to be done.

“Spenser…have you ever done any carpentry work?” he asked.

“I was once declared the finest carpenter in Gopher’s Jaw, Oregon Harry. You’re really thinking about doing this ourselves?” I saw a look of mock offense pass across his face, and wide-eyed doubt on Ginny’s. She trusted him with her life, her love and to one day defeat What’s-His-Name…but to rebuild a good portion of the house in less than two days?


*****



An hour later, we walked into the Muggle hardware store in the Ottery St. Catchpole village. At first Moody was against his going out like that, but Harry reminded him how that summer alone he had traveled halfway around the world without a babysitter…twice. Of course, he countered with the fact that there were few or no Death Eaters in Oregon. We assured him that it would be a quick trip, and, to keep the peace this time, we even invited Tonks along.

I gave everyone the once-over to make sure they looked Muggle enough, and even handed the girls a couple sports hats I had brought over with me. Naturally, they were from the Orlando Magic and Washington Wizards basketball teams. I really didn’t like the sport, but I just couldn’t resist.

Having a license, I was elected to drive the truck the Weasleys were using for the wedding preparations, and completely embarrassed myself when I climbed into the wrong side of the cab. Harry then had to grab the wheel to pull me over to the left-hand side of the road.

The store was medium-size, but it seemed to be extremely well stocked. The village was somewhat large, and this was farmland, so they no doubt got quite a bit of business. As soon as we entered, Harry’s face lit up as if he had just received a new racing broom. Where before he was enthusiastic about the project, now he was suddenly fanatical. Ginny was stunned by this sudden change, and, just for a second, I thought that she would physically hold him back from the power tool display.

I didn’t know about Tonks, but even with her recent exposure to Muggle Oregon, Ginny still couldn’t have recognized what all of these devices were. Harry immediately made a beeline to the Binford tools, where he began to caress a cordless drill, and a pneumatic nail gun. Ginny did not have the slightest doubt that Harry desperately loved her, but few do-it-yourselfers could resist at least a momentary flirtation with a Binford 5000 circular saw. Just as she was about to say something to him, Harry was almost literally pounced on by a sales clerk with a number of bandages, and an uncanny resemblance to Tim…nah, it couldn’t have been.

“I see that you recognize quality young man. The Binford tool line is world-renowned for their durability and power. Power my boy…ar, ar, ar! What may I help you with? The Binford 750 turbo staple remover? Their fine diesel-powered paintbrush? I know…the Binford three-speed, chrome-plated claw hammer with adjustable laser scope! Every wood shop should have one.” No, this salesman was definitely British. It was just my imagination.

“Actually sir, we will require a number of tools and certain building materials,” Ginny interrupted, handing Harry a handkerchief to wipe up the drool. She then gave the gentleman a list, which he scanned and made notations upon.

“Yes, yes I see. Well this should be easily filled,” he said then. “Will this be cash or…”

“Cash,” Harry quickly interrupted, pulling out a wad of large bills the size of a Muggle softball or the sales clerk’s eyes at the moment. “I hope we can work out some conversion from American Dollars. I’ve only just returned from the United States and haven’t had the opportunity to exchange these for Galleons…I mean British Pounds. I would also like at least one of each of these tools, as well as a good generator. Yes, power tools…ar, ar, ar!”

Oh no…it was contagious!


*****



Three round trips, and several threats from Ginny, had our supplies and equipment back to the Burrow. We were exceptionally fortunate that the twins had at least taken the time to clean up and sort through the debris. They had been able to move and repair almost all the contents of the two rooms, and even sorted out some of the recoverable building materials. As mischievous as these two were reported to be, they evidently loved their home…as well as having all of us owing them for their help.

Also on hand were two of Harry and Ginny’s classmates from Hogwarts; Seamus Finnigan and a shy boy named Neville Longbottom. I remembered that several of the Weasleys’ friends had been enlisted to help with the enormous wedding project, with either its security or the simple logistics.

“So which house do you want to be sorted to?” Neville asked.

“I’m not sure that I will be since I’m only here for my last year. I’ll be wearing my Canemah Academy robes, and…whoa.”

Out of the house came an extremely pretty girl with dirty blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing carpenter overalls, a Muggle hardhat, and steel-toed boots that were obviously much too large for her. Over one ear was a wand, and over the other a carpenter’s pencil. She gave me a quick smile, and then walked over to the truck and to retrieve the new level before returning inside. I had just encountered Luna Lovegood.

“Wow…terminally cute.”

“Yes, it is,” Harry said, cradling the steam-powered chopping saw that he obviously thought I was talking about. “It has five torque settings and three…ouch Ginny. Will you please stop swatting me? You’re acting like Hermione.” She gave him a fierce look, to which he first cringed, and then meekly smiled finally realizing what he was doing.

It was decided that our first course of action should be the inside wall. This allowed us to easily levitate everything in through the other holes I created. We first carefully replaced the studs and upright beams, making sure the surrounding supports had not been damaged. While we worked on this, Ginny and Luna did their best to tack down the new floorboards, and then to magically repair the carpet.

Harry and Seamus carefully read through the instruction manuals for our power generator and the nail gun’s air compressor. I loaded it with the smaller nails I would need to tack up the wall lathes. Unfortunately, I was paying more attention to Luna than I was to the gun, and accidentally shot Neville in the…well he wouldn’t be sitting down for lunch that day.

Harry soon joined me, and in no time, we had the wall ready for plastering. Being the master finish carpenter that I was, I discarded the plaster mixing directions and proceeded to demonstrate the art of the proper blend. Unfortunately, it was clearly inferior plaster, and the whole process took much longer than any of us expected. Harry explained to a skeptical Ginny how the replacement wallpaper would effectively cover the cracks that formed from our quick-drying spell. At least Luna seemed impressed by our efforts.

“You are really doing a wonderful job Spenser…may I call you Spenser? You must have built many, many houses before.” I realized it was the first time that she had spoken to me.

“Actually no, but I did build a nice birdhouse…”

“Help…please, someone,” came a cry from the first bedroom. We rushed in to find that Neville had nailed his sleeve to the wall…again.

“Harry, where is Seamus?” Ginny asked. “I thought he was working in here.”

“He’s downstairs monitoring the pressure on the… Oh no! How could I be so stupid?” Harry yelled as he darted for the stairs. It was too late. We emerged seconds after the explosion to find a black-faced Seamus standing over what had once been our air compressor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought that if two hundred pounds of pressure was good, five hundred would be outstanding.”

Harry and I each grabbed one of Ginny’s arms to keep her from hexing him…yet.


*****



We worked until the sun set that evening, accomplishing more than anyone anticipated. Even Moody finally admitted that it was beginning to look like we might do it. Neville and Seamus collapsed on the back lawn, while Harry and Ginny went off to a nearby willow tree that Luna explained was a special spot for them. The two of us retreated into the kitchen, and we talked late into the night.

“So, Seamus tells me that Harry and Ginny are going to try to keep their relationship a secret next year at school. Are things really that bad here?”

“Oh yes Spenser. Some very nice people…some good friends have died. Harry is afraid that if You-Know-Who finds out about the two of them, they will try to hurt Harry by hurting Ginny.” She went on to explain about Cedric Diggory, the battles in the Ministry of Magic, and in the Astronomy Tower, and a number of smaller encounters over the past few years. I began to take notes, and form storylines in my head for the future. I would never reveal or publish anything without their permission, but the more I heard the more I decided that Harry and Ginny’s story had to be told someday.

About one in the morning, the two came back inside, explaining that they had fallen asleep under the tree. I believed them, but also saw Ginny’s messed up hair and slightly embarrassed grin. The girls excused themselves, leaving Harry and me to go over plans for the next day’s work. We had until suppertime, we thought, before the Weasleys returned. Everything had to be completed, cleaned and Harry’s new power tools hidden before then.

“Harry…there is something that I have to ask you.”

“Luna is dating Neville, Spense…at least I think she is still.” For some reason, this caused a knot in my stomach. Oh well. We could at least be friends.

“What I wanted to know is what Ginny and you have planned for this next year, and how can I help?” Harry was thoughtful for several seconds.

“Spenser, I really appreciate that, and the time will come when I may need your assistance. For some strange reason I really trust you, but there is something I can’t talk about with anyone other than Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Do you understand?”

It was about a month later when Luna and I accidentally found out the truth about the Horcruxes.


*****



We all managed to get a few hours of sleep, and, before the sun had risen (or Mad-Eye and Tonks for that matter), we were back at work. Our two biggest concerns now, apart from exploding power tools and prying workers loose from walls, was a set of broken structural supporting beams on the two outside walls. Being the master framing carpenter I was, I was quickly able to explain an expedient fix for this problem, which Harry carried out with his assortment of Binford products. Ar! Ar!

We ate our lunch as we worked (my roast beast sandwich tasted like sawdust for some reason), and by mid-afternoon we were applying the final coat of paint. Being the master painter that I was, I explained how the same quick-drying spell we had used on the plaster would be equally effective on the latex paint we had slapped on the walls. Seamus and Harry agreed, and Ginny was only a little bit dubious about the matter. She kept mumbling something about men and their toys.

A quick final inspection convinced us that everything was as good as new and that we needed to place the furniture back inside. The twins had returned from their store in time for us to set things in order, and they actually seemed to be impressed. Even Moody complimented us on our work…before pointing out the time.

We all took turns taking fast showers, and Tonks performed a wonderful spell that laundered our clothes…at least enough to get us past the Weasleys. Ginny helped Harry clean and store the new tools, but then had to use all of her charm and powers of persuasion to convince him that he couldn’t keep them. Their presence in the shed would be a dead giveaway that something had happened. Bill and Fleur suddenly had a very nice set of wedding gifts.

Just as we finished transfiguring the construction scraps and the old bathtub into a pile of hippogriff manure and a nice new fountain respectively, Ron and Hermione apparated into the yard. I had seen Hermione blow up the one time at my Uncle Theo’s wedding reception, but when she found out what had happened, she tore into us (especially me) as if we had caused Halloween to be cancelled. Perhaps it was a good thing that she then stopped speaking with me until we arrived at school in September.

Everyone pitched in and prepared a light, but very nice meal for the Weasley parents, who voiced their appreciation and admiration that we had not destroyed the house while they were gone. Alastor Moody almost choked on his gin upon hearing that.


*****



I had originally arranged to arrive and stay at Hogwarts a few weeks early, being given the special privilege because of my exchange student status. Mrs. Weasley would hear nothing of it however. She remembered me from our brief meeting years before, and not only invited me to the wedding, but also insisted that I remain with them for the remainder of the summer. Ron and Ginny both assured me that it was not merely to obtain additional labor for the festivities.

I will not describe the wedding to you, since I’m sure Harry’s biographer will do an excellent job in her final volume. I will say that the girls were all beautiful (especially the bride), the cake was incredible, the flowers Neville helped arrange were exceptional, and the mood as jovial as I have ever experienced. I was even able to dance several times with Luna. Neville seemed to understand that I knew about the two of them, and that she and I would only be good friends.

As for Harry and Ginny…the two were inseparable. They may not have wanted anyone to know they were in love, but during the reception, it was as obvious as Hagrid’s beard (great fellow, but I’ve never seen anyone cry so hard at a wedding).

Anyway, Harry and Ginny seemed to glow that day. The two together just floated across the improvised dance floor…across the Burrow for that matter. Twice, Molly Weasley had to send us out to locate the two and bring them back to the party. Fortunately, someone knew an excellent spell to remove lipstick.

After the happy couple had left that evening, the few of us who remained leaned back against the garden wall and took in the whole mess. The repair job we did to the Burrow was nothing compared to the gargantuan task ahead of us the next morning. I made a joke about Harry going back into town to purchase the Binford 2001 atomic leaf blower to help with the clutter. Ginny instantly had her wand out and pointed back and forth between our two smiling faces.

“Ginny…put that wand away!” Molly Weasley yelled from the kitchen door. “What has gotten into you? Now has anyone seen Errol? Your Great Aunt Tessy asked that he come and fetch her wedding gift.”

“Where was she today Mum?” Ginny asked, hoping to change the subject (and quickly hiding the wand).

“It seems that she was inadvertently tackled in Soho, London by a group of college boys wearing strange sports equipment. Poor dear broke her funny bone.” The three of us just crouched lower and tried to hide our faces.

“Here he comes Mum,” Ron said, emerging himself from the kitchen, and gnawing on still another drumstick from the buffet table. Suddenly (but I am told not unexpectedly), the owl slammed into the side of the house above us, and then fell to the ground at Mrs. Weasley’s feet with the gift he was carrying.

A moment later, we heard a slight rumbling, followed by a low groan that gained in intensity. Realizing what it was, we grabbed Ron and Mrs. Weasley and pulled them away from the house just as the wall we replaced came crashing down. From inside and the far end of the building, we heard additional crashes, followed by a cloud of dust and Arthur Weasley’s loud voice. Harry and Ginny both turned to me.

“A master carpenter?” Ginny asked.

“The finest carpenter in Gopher Jaw, Oregon,” Harry answered for me.

“Well…uh, Gopher Jaw is really just a gas station and small restaurant in the middle of the Oregon desert–-population four. I did help the nice lady behind the counter drive a nail to hang a jackalope head though.”

Mischief managed! I don’t think so Harry…ar, ar!




A/N: My sincere respect and apologies to a certain tool man and to the wonderful Binford Tool Company, Inc.
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