Categories > Books > Harry Potter > A Perfect Ten
Over the next three months, Percy's transformation had been nothing short of extraordinary. After deciding to step into the brutal world of Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling, he knew that every advantage would count.
Despite the known health risks, Percy began taking anabolic steroids, determined to build the muscle mass and strength he needed to survive in the ring. His training was relentless. Hours upon hours of pushing his body to the limit, lifting weights, sparring, and studying his opponents with a meticulous eye.
One opponent in particular, Tiger Ali Singh, had caught Percy’s attention. Singh was a formidable fighter, known for his power and agility. Percy knew that if he wanted to make an impact in his debut match, he would have to exploit Singh’s weaknesses and show the world that Ryker Black was a force to be reckoned with.
Penelope had come to visit him in his apartment just a few days before the match. When she walked through the door, she was struck by the sight of Percy’s transformation. He looked good. His muscles were well-defined, and his physique was impressive, but there was something different about him. The softness in his eyes had hardened, and the warm smile she remembered was replaced with a smirk that felt foreign to her.
“Percy…” Penelope began, her voice filled with concern. “What have you done to yourself?”
Percy shrugged, flexing his muscles as he looked at himself in the mirror. “This is what I have to do, Penelope. This is the only way to make sure you and our child have the life you deserve.”
Penelope frowned, worry etching itself across her features. “But this…this FMW, it’s dangerous. I’ve heard stories, Percy. People get hurt, sometimes worse. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Percy turned to face her, his expression resolute.
“I’m not just doing this for me. I’m doing it for us, for our family. I’ve made my choice, Penelope. I’m going to be the best, and I’m going to make sure our child has everything they need.”
Penelope sighed, knowing that there was little she could say to change his mind.
“Just… be careful, Percy. Please.”
The night of Percy’s debut match arrived faster than expected. The atmosphere at the FMW arena was electric.
Thousands of fans filled the seats, their voices rising in a chaotic chorus of excitement and anticipation. Backstage, Percy stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his new ring gear: black trunks, knee pads, and boots. His hair was slicked back, his body oiled to perfection, showcasing the months of hard work and transformation.
Lucius Malfoy entered the room, his presence commanding as always. He was dressed impeccably, his sharp suit accentuating his air of superiority.
“It’s time, Ryker,” Lucius said, his voice smooth and confident. “You’re about to make your mark on the world.”
Percy nodded, the nerves he might have once felt buried deep beneath his newfound confidence. Lucius led Percy to the entrance of the arena, where the deafening roar of the crowd awaited. As they stepped out into the blinding lights of the ring, the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Introducing first, accompanied by his manager, Lucius Malfoy… weighing in at 230 pounds, from London, England…Ryker Black!”
The crowd’s reaction was mixed; boos mingled with cheers as the fans took in the sight of the new fighter. Percy stepped into the ring, his eyes scanning the sea of faces, but his focus was singular.
He had one goal: to win.
Tiger Ali Singh was already in the ring, his imposing figure towering over Percy. The bell rang, and the match began with Singh immediately taking the advantage. He overpowered Percy with his strength, landing a series of heavy blows that drove Percy back against the ropes. For a moment, it seemed as though Singh would dominate the match.
But Percy had studied his opponent well. He knew that Singh had a weakness—his left knee, injured in a previous match. Percy bided his time, waiting for the right moment, and then he struck. He targeted Singh’s knee with ruthless precision, delivering a series of kicks and submissions that left Singh hobbled and struggling to stand.
With Singh weakened, Percy seized his opportunity. He grabbed Singh in a front facelock, his near arm draped over Percy’s shoulder. Percy hooked Singh’s near leg with his free arm and, with a sudden burst of strength, lifted Singh off his feet. In one fluid motion, Percy fell backward, flipping Singh onto his back with a sickening crash. Percy kept Singh’s leg hooked, bridging himself to pin his opponent in a cradle-like position.
The referee dropped to the mat, slapping his hand down once, twice, three times.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the match.
Percy had won.
The crowd erupted in a mixture of shock and awe as Percy rose to his feet, his chest heaving with adrenaline and triumph. Lucius entered the ring, a proud smile on his face as he congratulated his protégé.
When they were alone, Lucius turned to Percy, curiosity in his eyes.
"That move you used to finish Singh, what do you call it?”
Percy smirked, the memories of his siblings’ nickname for him flashing through his mind; “Perfect Prefect Percy.” It had always been a taunt, but now, it had a new meaning.
“I call it the ‘Perfectplex,’” Percy replied, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of finality.
It was a move that represented his transformation, his evolution from Percy Weasley to Ryker Black; a man who had left his past behind and was ready to claim his future.
Despite the known health risks, Percy began taking anabolic steroids, determined to build the muscle mass and strength he needed to survive in the ring. His training was relentless. Hours upon hours of pushing his body to the limit, lifting weights, sparring, and studying his opponents with a meticulous eye.
One opponent in particular, Tiger Ali Singh, had caught Percy’s attention. Singh was a formidable fighter, known for his power and agility. Percy knew that if he wanted to make an impact in his debut match, he would have to exploit Singh’s weaknesses and show the world that Ryker Black was a force to be reckoned with.
Penelope had come to visit him in his apartment just a few days before the match. When she walked through the door, she was struck by the sight of Percy’s transformation. He looked good. His muscles were well-defined, and his physique was impressive, but there was something different about him. The softness in his eyes had hardened, and the warm smile she remembered was replaced with a smirk that felt foreign to her.
“Percy…” Penelope began, her voice filled with concern. “What have you done to yourself?”
Percy shrugged, flexing his muscles as he looked at himself in the mirror. “This is what I have to do, Penelope. This is the only way to make sure you and our child have the life you deserve.”
Penelope frowned, worry etching itself across her features. “But this…this FMW, it’s dangerous. I’ve heard stories, Percy. People get hurt, sometimes worse. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Percy turned to face her, his expression resolute.
“I’m not just doing this for me. I’m doing it for us, for our family. I’ve made my choice, Penelope. I’m going to be the best, and I’m going to make sure our child has everything they need.”
Penelope sighed, knowing that there was little she could say to change his mind.
“Just… be careful, Percy. Please.”
The night of Percy’s debut match arrived faster than expected. The atmosphere at the FMW arena was electric.
Thousands of fans filled the seats, their voices rising in a chaotic chorus of excitement and anticipation. Backstage, Percy stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his new ring gear: black trunks, knee pads, and boots. His hair was slicked back, his body oiled to perfection, showcasing the months of hard work and transformation.
Lucius Malfoy entered the room, his presence commanding as always. He was dressed impeccably, his sharp suit accentuating his air of superiority.
“It’s time, Ryker,” Lucius said, his voice smooth and confident. “You’re about to make your mark on the world.”
Percy nodded, the nerves he might have once felt buried deep beneath his newfound confidence. Lucius led Percy to the entrance of the arena, where the deafening roar of the crowd awaited. As they stepped out into the blinding lights of the ring, the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Introducing first, accompanied by his manager, Lucius Malfoy… weighing in at 230 pounds, from London, England…Ryker Black!”
The crowd’s reaction was mixed; boos mingled with cheers as the fans took in the sight of the new fighter. Percy stepped into the ring, his eyes scanning the sea of faces, but his focus was singular.
He had one goal: to win.
Tiger Ali Singh was already in the ring, his imposing figure towering over Percy. The bell rang, and the match began with Singh immediately taking the advantage. He overpowered Percy with his strength, landing a series of heavy blows that drove Percy back against the ropes. For a moment, it seemed as though Singh would dominate the match.
But Percy had studied his opponent well. He knew that Singh had a weakness—his left knee, injured in a previous match. Percy bided his time, waiting for the right moment, and then he struck. He targeted Singh’s knee with ruthless precision, delivering a series of kicks and submissions that left Singh hobbled and struggling to stand.
With Singh weakened, Percy seized his opportunity. He grabbed Singh in a front facelock, his near arm draped over Percy’s shoulder. Percy hooked Singh’s near leg with his free arm and, with a sudden burst of strength, lifted Singh off his feet. In one fluid motion, Percy fell backward, flipping Singh onto his back with a sickening crash. Percy kept Singh’s leg hooked, bridging himself to pin his opponent in a cradle-like position.
The referee dropped to the mat, slapping his hand down once, twice, three times.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the match.
Percy had won.
The crowd erupted in a mixture of shock and awe as Percy rose to his feet, his chest heaving with adrenaline and triumph. Lucius entered the ring, a proud smile on his face as he congratulated his protégé.
When they were alone, Lucius turned to Percy, curiosity in his eyes.
"That move you used to finish Singh, what do you call it?”
Percy smirked, the memories of his siblings’ nickname for him flashing through his mind; “Perfect Prefect Percy.” It had always been a taunt, but now, it had a new meaning.
“I call it the ‘Perfectplex,’” Percy replied, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of finality.
It was a move that represented his transformation, his evolution from Percy Weasley to Ryker Black; a man who had left his past behind and was ready to claim his future.
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