make your choice //oneshots (harry potter)

save a horse/ride a cowboy (tomarry)

"Whoa there!"
His fingers tightened around the worn leather as he pulled on the reigns. There was little resistance that came from the white horse underneath him before the steed slowed to a light trot. They came to a full stop in front of a large wooden structure.

Pretty soon his backup would be arriving with two horses and a tumbleweed wagon, which he hoped was large enough for however many people he would be taking in today.

In large, looping letters, the sign on top of the structure read "The Dappled Outlaw", with an adorning sign just above the entrance stating, in bold letters, "SALOON". It was a rather large building, with a height of about three floors. The second floor led to a balcony, of which seemed to be unoccupied at the moment of his arrival.

He personally knew the owners of the establishment- the Weasley twins, named Fred and George respectively. They were easily the favorites of the town with heads of fire-red hair, and the two were just as troublesome as the name of their saloon. He found himself fond of the two anyhow, no matter how much they may have messed with him in his younger years.

Usually, the doors that led inside were the type to swing on it's hinges, but today there was a large cream-colored canvas tarp thrown over the entrance that cut off a flow of people trying to get in.
It was too quiet inside, and the people outside seemed to be just as confused as he was.

"What seems to be the problem?" Harry asked aloud, as he dismounted off of Hedwig, his trusted and beloved mare.
It was a silly name for such a horse, but he quite liked it. It came from one of the many books his mother used to read him as a babe.

He tied Hedwig's bridle to the hitching rail in front of the saloon, securing her with a quick-release knot. He gave her neck a firm pat and let her nuzzle his hand before turning his attention back to the crowd outside.

"Well," said one woman, "these hustlers went inside there, I tell you! Nothing but trouble, those ones." Her face remained a soft red, as if she had been drinking even before arriving to the establishment. She was fanning herself languidly, her eyes half-lidded as if in a haze.

"Now, hold on a minute! They were all sorts of bad." Interjected a man with a cigar. His beard seemed to get in the way before he pushed it aside with the thick roll, pushing it between his lips. He took a long drag before puffing out the smoke through the side of his mouth. "About four of 'em, I'd say. Watch yourself in there, sheriff."

"Will do, thank you." He said, tipping his hat in thanks to the two. There were a few other people outside the saloon and he didn't want to risk any bystanders getting in the way.
"For now, please take your leave. The Weasleys will surely be up and running by the evening."

"Why, I'm certain it'll be over when you go in!"
"Oh come on, that's too long of a wait!"

He couldn't help but crack a smile even as he passed the small crowd gathered by the front.
It was always like them to not want to waste an hour or two of the afternoon just because of a hold up- no one wanted to wait until the evening.

He walked over to the entrance and listened as best as he could. There were still customers from earlier that day inside, judging by the sounds of the drinking glasses being pushed around the wooden tables. However, it was rather... quiet. It was as if they were al busy watching something... or someone.

Harry pulled the tarp off of one of the doors before pushing his way in.

The first thing that greeted him was the sound tinkling of someone playing the piano.

Even as the door swung open, no one seemed to pay him any mind. All eyes were focused on the bar counter, where three men stood around a man who was seated. Fred and George were both behind the counter, each seemingly at ease despite the situation.
In fact, they seemed to be smiling, of all things.