QLFC - Round 3 - Chaser 3 - Main Prompt - Troll Doll
Additional Prompts:
(genre) Western
(word) grave
(object) wanted poster/s
You, Me and the Devil Makes Three
~Prologue~
Goodrich Hollow, Texas 1873
Ginny had been dreading this day for the last few months. Harry had answered the call to protect the county from a band of outlaws who had been terrorizing it ever since the railroad arrived, and today was his first day as a Texas Ranger. Ginny hadn't been this nervous since she watched Harry ride off to fight in the war. She was just setting his breakfast on the table when he walked in.
"What smells so delicious: eggs, bacon, toast, and my favorite strawberry preserves? If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to trick me into staying here!" Squeezing her to him and planting a kiss on her upturned lips, he smiled down at her and sat down to tuck into his scrumptious breakfast.
"I've gotten something for you." Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a silver and wooden object about the size of her thumb. "It's called a Fumsup. Mama got them for my brothers when they left for the war. I sent away for it after we spoke about you becoming a Ranger." She turned it over in her thin fingers, walked over to him, and pinned it under his vest so it rested over his heart.
"I was afraid it wouldn't get here in time. You should wear this when you go out; it's supposed to bring good luck." After breakfast, she walked with him onto the porch where they said goodbye and had a proper passionate moment together. She stood there as he gave one final wave and watched him mount his horse, Hedwig, to canter off to his Rangering duties. She stayed on the porch until he disappeared into sun on the horizon.
Goodrich Hollow, Texas 1874
Yesterday it seemed the entire town came through her parlor. She tolerated the few bawling children, comforted those that shed tears, and accepted the condolences paid. She was numb to all of it though. All she could think whenever anyone came near her was that she needed to leave. She needed to find Tom Riddle, and make him pay for what he took from her. Harry's future, everything he could have been, and everything they could have been.
Today Ginny had Harry laid out in the small church in town. After the short service, attended by nearly the entire town, she walked up to the casket of her beloved husband with a single white lily to place on his chest. Looking down upon the face of the man she had loved since they were children through tears she couldn't slow, she inadvertently brushed her fingers on the small silver and oak talisman still on his chest. She wanted something to hold onto, so unpinned it and prayed it would offer her the luck it kept from Harry.
Once the last shovel of dirt spread over top of his grave, and the last attendant left, she turned and walked from the churchyard with a new purpose. Hedwig was packed with twenty-five wanted posters, a bedroll and as much food and water as she could carry. Ginny swung herself onto the dappled mare and left to claim her vengeance- to track down and kill Tom "Snake Eyes" Riddle.
Arabella, NM - September 1874
Ramshackle houses greeted her as she approached the next dot on her map. Ginny had been going from town to town since Harry's funeral to hang wanted posters and talk to the locals; she hoped for information that would lead her to Riddle. Arabella was like the other settlements she had visited: a church at one end, courthouse on the other, Main Street lined with a general store, a saloon or two, the post office, and any number of interchangeable supply stores. She headed directly to the Double Barrel Saloon to see a man about a Snake. She dismounted and tethered Hedwig next to the water trough, then brushed the dust from herself as best she could. The saddle wore on her, but she had to find Riddle, and that meant being on the move as she tried to get a step ahead of him.
There were seven people scattered at the scarred oak tables haphazardly placed around the saloon. A few of the men glanced over at her as she strode through the swinging doors, but their attention quickly turned back to the spectacle of the bar owner, Aberforth, and a rather drunk looking patron.
"Fletcher, if I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times. I will not serve you here. Now get your half-witted, mutton headed, swindling, good-for-nothing ass out of my bar!" The man in front of him, Fletcher, barely moved a muscle, until Abe reached under the bar. At that, Fletcher started gathering up the wares spread out in front of him and began stuffing them back into hidden pockets on his person, clearly having said something in his own defense, because Abe snapped back at him. "I wouldn't care if this is the only saloon for a thousand miles! Don't let your shadow darken my door again! Next time I won't be so nice!" Fletcher shoved his hat back on his head then hurried out the door. Ginny gave him wide berth as everyone went back to their drinks, then waltzed up to the bar.
Aberforth, or Abe as Ginny had taken to calling this grumpy, poor mannered old coot, was one of the people Ginny was lucky enough to have run into early in her search for Riddle. Moreover, although he was a cantankerous, old bloke, she felt she could trust everything he told her, and that he would look out for her, even if she wasn't looking out for herself.
"Not getting yourself into any trouble, are you, Gin?"
"I'm not doing anything you wouldn't do." She grinned up at him and couldn't help the cheek.
Smiling, he set a bowl of meat and potato stew in front of her with a crusty heel of bread, and offered the only bit of information he was able to gather from his patrons over the last few months. "There have been some sightings, but nothing recently. I'm surprised more people don't speak up. Aren't they tired of being terrorized by that man and his Gang?" She really didn't understand the sentiment she ran into everywhere she went. Riddle was running from the Mississippi to the Rio Grande, leaving a path of destruction behind him, but no one was willing to step up against him.
Desert - February 1875
The morning he left replayed without permission again in the darkness as she lay on the hard ground. Harry walked off their porch for the last time one year ago today. That morning he left early to find a spot where he could lay in wait for Riddle to show up. He was following up on a lead that Riddle's gang was going to be hitting the 09:45 train before it got to town. The other Rangers who were there said they ran across a wagon that had broken down. Harry hadn't wanted the lady, Nagini, anywhere around when Riddle showed up, so he stopped to help get her moving again. It was a trap. Riddle was already there, in the back of the wagon, and Harry never came home again.
Her mind wandered the way it always did in the dark of night. Every sound was a ghost, every howl a wolf hunting her down. That last morning forever burned in her memory although she remembered feeling the warm rays of early morning light on her skin as she waved goodbye, thoughts of the last time she saw her husband alive left her cold. She had spent the last year sleeping under the stars with just Hedwig, and Harry's Fumsup to keep her company. Her heart was hardening with each sleepless night spent wondering; when was her luck going to change?
Arabella, NM - April 1875
The sun was making its final descent behind the Sierra Blanca mountain range, like a fire on the horizon burning from orange to red. Covered in dust, she blended into the landscape. Ginny forced herself to keep moving forward to the town she knew was just ahead. As though on its own, her hand came up to the silver charm under her vest and rubbed it for luck. Each time she rode towards a town, it became harder and harder to steer Hedwig down Main Street. Her faith had been slipping since January and she really needed someone to give her information on Riddle's whereabouts when she got to Abe's.
Walking past the wanted poster she put up the year before, she was disappointed to see a town meeting notice had half covered it. The sun faded the rest, brittle from being out in the dry desert air. The fire that was burning in her chest when she rode out to paper every town from the Mississippi to the Rio Grande with wanted posters had all but burned out. The months that passed with nothing but retellings of Riddle's further torment on the west had taken its toll. Walking into the bar and setting herself down on a stool, she leaned in close enough for her friend to hear.
"Any news? Last I heard he was looking for some new recruits. I guess things didn't go well during the last heist." Abe stopped wiping down the bar top to reach under it for the good stuff and poured them both a generous nip, which was a first.
"There will be a man here tomorrow that you should talk to. He is out following up on a lead on Bellatrix Lestrange. From what I hear, she did a number on his parents and he is looking for retribution. He'll be back in the morning, his name is Neville, so make sure you are down here bright and early." Wherever Riddle was, Bellatrix was by his side. If Neville had a lead on her, he had a lead on Riddle. Being the closest she had been to having an actual lead in a long time, Ginny savored the shepherd pie Abe passed to her along with a glass of dark beer.
She thought about everything that happened since that awful day last year as she walked to the livery to check on Hedwig. She saw the horse had been fed and watered, so she started the relaxing task of brushing her down. She confided in Hedwig; whispering because she was afraid if she said it too loud it would be bad luck, "I think we are getting close, girl."
She went up to bed early that night wondering about this Neville person. Of course, she had heard of Bellatrix Lestrange, but Neville was the first person she had come across in all her travels that was willing to go after anyone from the Riddle Gang. Could this be the break she had been waiting for? She fell into a fitful sleep.
She was standing beneath the large beech tree in the churchyard, dressed in all black, and standing over a fresh grave. Looking down, she saw a smooth grey stone, inscribed:
Here Lies
Harry Potter
Future Stolen
Dreams Ended
1874
She awoke with a start; her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest. Despite the chilly desert night air that came through the small window next to her, the bedclothes were damp with sweat. The night held no comfort, but she reminded herself that she was close to the vengeance she had been thirsting for since Harry's death. She fell back into sleep with dreams of four-leaf clovers, rabbit feet, and little silver bodies with woodenheads. She awoke with her spirits renewed; the fire burning inside her had been stoked while she slept.
The Valley of Fires - April 1875
It took Ginny and Neville four days to pick up their trail, another to figure out where they were headed and come up with a plan. They were going to separate the outlaws when camp broke the following morning. Neville took off first, capturing Bellatrix and hauling her away when she left to scout the area at first light. It was a full four hours later before Riddle gave up waiting for his cohort and left to look for her.
Ginny closed in on Riddle as his horse scrambled across the scorched earth. "I have been searching for you for over a year, and now I have you." She yelled so he could hear her. After looking for this bastard too long, she was going to watch him as took his last breath.
At that, Riddle turned back over his shoulder. "Ah, are you the little perra who put up the wanted posters? Did you really think anyone would tell you where I was?" His condescending tone grated on her. It was true, she was unable to find many willing contributions to her search, but she had him in her sights now. "Do you not know my name, little girl? You are only alive because I've allowed it." He stopped then, got off his horse and turned fully towards her. The sun was blazing above, the ground burning below.
"If you could have killed me and didn't, then you are more foolish than I thought." She had gotten braver when he stopped "You took something from me, and now I'm going to take something from you." She promised him as she dismounted Hedwig.
He stood his ground, as she stalked closer to him. "There have been so many things I have taken from so many people. Please, Pelirroja, tell me a story. What could I possibly have taken from you? " At his words, the life she had, and everything she could have had with Harry flashed behind her eyes and overwhelmed her. She took a calming breath and focused on the fact that she found this monster, and would finally be able to avenge her husband's untimely death.
"I didn't come here to tell you a story, Riddle; I came here to make you pay. Blood for blood." They were toe to toe at this point.
"If it's blood you want, it's blood you'll get. But the red watering this thirsty ground today will not be mine, la niƱita." She could see the spittle gathering in the corner of his mouth, and was sick to her stomach being that close to the monster.
"Let's settle this once and for all, Riddle. Ten paces, and it doesn't matter who draws first. You will be the one dying here today." They glared at each other, and Riddle was the one to turn first, clearly not intimidated by the young woman. Ginny followed suit and counted off ten steps back the way she came.
They turned towards each other.
Ginny reached under her vest to rub her finger over her talisman, before bringing her hand down to hover over her holstered Colt, as did Riddle. Both guns were drawn, the silver of dueling Peacemakers flashed in the afternoon sun. They went off simultaneously multiple times, and when the smoke cleared there was only one person left standing.
She had her body turned to the side; the recoil from the .45 pushed her arm up almost over her head. It was as she brought the gun back down to level on her opponent for the fourth time that she recognized a pain that radiated from her arm. She risked a quick glance down and saw her little talisman askew, and a slash of red welling from beneath a tear in her sleeve.
Her eyes trained on the outlaw as she pulled the hammer back and readied another bullet in the chamber. His prone form aligned squarely in the iron sight. Riddle tried to roll over, but it seemed as though he was pinned to the dark stone beneath his back. She cautiously took a few steps and when he made no move to take aim at her, she closed in on him. As she stood over him, the smell of singed flesh wafted up to her, and saw a red stain spread from the hole in his chest. Riddle was not long for this world. As she stood there on the ancient brimstone and lava flow she felt as though the Devil stood behind her before he took his disciple to the fires below.
Riddle let out a strangled gasp as the sun beat down on his face. His eyes were open and upturned as though searching for something. "Take one last look; this is the last time you will see anything as bright as a noonday sun." Tom "Snake Eyes" Riddle turned towards Ginny. The light that poured in revealed irises so pale that she could barely discern their color. She watched as his pupils dilated before one last shuddering breath left his body.
~Epilogue~
Goodrich Hollow, Texas 1875
Ginny walked into the quiet churchyard carrying a bundle of daisies cut from her garden and sat next to her husband's headstone. She went there when she needed to feel close to him again. Sitting down, she wove the daisies in a circle as she told him again how she stood with the Devil, and watched as Riddle took his last breath. Some folks told her she wouldn't feel satisfaction, or that vengeance wouldn't be worth the price she would pay. All those months of chasing Riddle across the desert had built him up in her mind. Every town terrorized by him added to his mystique. His gang was notorious, and no one stood up to him. Nevertheless, he was just a man, and as Ginny knew, men died. She brushed some of the fallen petals from her lap, stood up, and laid the wreath on Harry's grave.
A/N - A Hogshead is a cask that holds 64 gallons, double that of a Barrel which holds 32.
A Fumsup is a good luck charm popular in the late 19th and early 20th century, The charm is in the form of a small person usually with a wooden head and metal body.
While looking at the geography of the American West I saw this black slash on the satellite image. That is the Valley of Fires, and the only place for the final showdown.
HW Challenges & Assignments - Gardening Task 13: A flag - Write about someone claiming something as their own. (Ginny - vengeance is hers)
Debate club: Muggle!AU vs. Magical!AU : Prompt: "Tell me a story."
Best Friends Day: 5. 1800s (time period), flower wreath (object)
