This has been written as a short one-off for the hopscotch challenge at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I got the random assignment of a Western. And so, here it is, a short tale set in the Wild West, but involving wizards, and witches.
The Fastest Wand in the West
Belle stands, watching, in the middle of this street in a muggle town that she can't care to remember the name of. But she has to do this. She knows that it is illegal, but she doesn't know how else she can confront the dark wizard. She knows that he can't refuse the challenge, not a public one, not one like this in the very town that he has taken over. She feels sorry for the poor muggles, and hopes that the Federal Obliviators can help them, but she fears that they won't.
With a swoosh he appears, right in front of her, some thirty feet away. The sun is high, almost at its highest and she pushes down her hat a little. The town's clock is ticking away the seconds, the final seconds. "This is your last chance, surrender your wand and come with me."
Jesse laughs heartily, his hand close to his wand: "And go to prison? You can't stop me, missy, this is my town, my rules. Run away now, or you will be dead when that clock strikes."
She doesn't answer, and only glances over the townsfolk. They are assembled by the sides of the street, looking from windows. She knows that they hope for salvation, but fear that they will have to celebrate the outlaw's victory.
Just a few seconds remaining and she holds her hand close to her wand, but not yet touching it. There are rules to this sort of thing.
The clock strikes, and the witch and the wizard move as a blur, drawing their wands. She shouts: "Avada Kedavra", and does he.
But he falls, lifeless, and she twirls her wand around her finger. Belle MacLeon, Federal Auror and Fastest Wand in the West has once again proven why she holds that title.