FicWad

Percy Weasley had never imagined himself attending an event like Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling, but there he was, seated beside Lucius Malfoy in an opulent VIP box overlooking the arena. The air was thick with tension and excitement, the roar of the crowd echoing off the walls as two fighters squared off in the center of the ring.

The ring itself was surrounded by an assortment of weapons—steel chairs, barbed wire bats, and even a table with thumbtacks scattered on it. The brutality of it all made Percy's stomach churn, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle unfolding before him.

The match was unlike anything Percy had ever witnessed. The fighters seemed almost feral as they attacked each other with a viciousness that shocked him to his core. Blood flowed freely, staining the mat beneath their feet as the crowd cheered for more. Percy felt a wave of nausea, but he also felt something else—an undeniable sense of fascination.

Lucius, seated beside him with a glass of fine wine in hand, seemed completely at ease. His pale eyes gleamed with interest as he watched the match, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. When he noticed Percy's discomfort, he leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and composed.

"Quite a spectacle, isn’t it?" Lucius remarked, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Percy swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the conversation rather than the gruesome scene below. "I…I had no idea it would be this intense."

Lucius chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving the ring. "FMW is not for the faint of heart, Percy. It’s a sport that pushes its participants to their limits, both physically and mentally. But there’s a reason why it’s so popular."

Percy nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he understood. He had grown up in a world of rules and order, where violence was rare and controlled. The brutality of FMW was a stark contrast to everything he had known, yet he couldn’t deny that there was something compelling about it, something that kept him glued to his seat.

As the match reached its climax, one of the fighters grabbed a steel chair and brought it down with a sickening thud on his opponent's head. The crowd erupted in cheers as the downed fighter struggled to get up, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. Percy winced, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man, but he was also aware of the growing excitement in the air, the way the crowd fed off the violence.

When the match finally ended, with one fighter barely conscious and the other declared the victor, Lucius turned to Percy, his expression unreadable.

"The brutality is not without purpose," Lucius said calmly. "FMW is a lucrative business. The fighters are paid handsomely, especially the champions. The more brutal the match, the more money is made, both for the fighters and for those who invest in the sport."

Percy frowned, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "You mean people make money off this…off the violence?"

Lucius nodded, his eyes gleaming with a shrewd intelligence. "Indeed. FMW draws in massive crowds, and with those crowds comes an equally massive amount of money. Sponsorships, betting, merchandise—it all adds up to staggering profits. And the fighters themselves? They earn bonuses for winning, but the real money lies in becoming a champion. The champions are the stars, the ones who draw the crowds and keep the money flowing."

Percy was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. The idea of profiting from something so brutal was both repellent and intriguing. He had always been taught to follow the rules, to strive for success through hard work and dedication. But this…this was something entirely different. The sheer amount of money that could be made, the power that came with it, was unlike anything he had ever considered.

Lucius seemed to sense his thoughts, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I can see it in your eyes, Percy. You’re intrigued by the possibilities. There’s a great deal of money to be made in FMW. Money that could open doors, that could grant you the influence and power you’ve always wanted. All it takes is the right investment, the right connections."

Percy’s mind raced as he considered Lucius’s words. The prospect of making such a fortune was tempting, but it also went against everything he had been raised to believe. Yet, there was a part of him; a small, ambitious part—that couldn’t help but be drawn to the idea. He had always felt like he was on the outside, looking in on the world of power and wealth. Could this be his way in?

The two of them stayed for the remainder of the event, with Lucius explaining more about how FMW operated, the types of deals that were made behind the scenes, and the fortunes that had been built on the sport. Percy listened intently, his discomfort gradually giving way to a growing sense of intrigue. The world of FMW was dark and brutal, but it was also a world of opportunity, and Percy couldn’t help but wonder if it was a world he could navigate.

Later that evening, Percy returned to his apartment, his mind still buzzing with everything Lucius had told him. The brutality of FMW still lingered in his thoughts, but so did the potential it represented. He poured himself a glass of firewhisky and sat down at his desk, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions swirling within him.

He had always been ambitious, always wanted more than the modest life his family had led. But this…this was a step into a world he had never considered before, a world where success was measured not by hard work and integrity, but by money, power, and the ability to control others.

Percy was still lost in thought when there was a knock on his door. He frowned, setting down his glass and crossing the room to open it. When he did, he was met with a sight that shocked him to his core.

Standing in the doorway was Penelope Clearwater, her expression a mixture of anxiety and determination. But it wasn’t just her presence that stunned Percy—it was the news she brought.

“Penelope,” Percy said, his voice filled with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Penelope hesitated for a moment before stepping into the apartment, her eyes locking onto Percy’s. “Percy, there’s something you need to know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m…I'm pregnant. I'm two months pregnant."

The words hit Percy like a physical blow. He stared at Penelope, his mind reeling as he tried to process what she had just said. Pregnant? With his child? The reality of the situation began to sink in, and with it came a rush of emotions;shock, fear, confusion, and a sense of responsibility that he had never felt before.

“Pregnant?” Percy repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are…are you sure?”

Penelope nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve known for a few weeks now, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I didn’t want to put any pressure on you, but you needed to know."

Percy felt his legs go weak, and he stumbled back, sinking into the nearest chair. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the world he had been contemplating moments ago now seeming distant and irrelevant. This changed everything.

A child. His child.

He looked up at Penelope, who was now standing in the center of the room, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. Percy could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty of what the future held for them both.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. How could he possibly respond to this? How could he reconcile the thoughts of ambition and power that had been consuming him with the reality of becoming a father?

In that moment, Percy realized that his life had just taken a turn he could never have anticipated. The decisions he made from this point on would not only affect his future, but the future of his child as well.