Categories > Books > Harry Potter > A Perfect Ten
Slowly waking up, Percy's mind was groggy and disoriented. The sterile scent of the hospital room was the first thing that registered, followed by the dull ache that seemed to permeate every inch of his body.
He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was the overwhelming fatigue, the feeling of his body betraying him just as he was on the brink of achieving everything he’d worked for.
As his vision cleared, Percy noticed the empty chair beside his bed, its cushions slightly indented as if someone had been sitting there for a long time.
Before he could wonder who it might have been, a nurse entered the room, offering him a gentle smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "You’ve been out for quite some time."
Percy frowned, his mind still foggy. "How long?" he asked, his voice raspy from disuse.
"Two weeks," the nurse replied, sympathy in her eyes. "You’ve had visitors every day. Your mother, father, your brothers, and sister. They’ve all been taking turns, making sure you were never alone."
The thought of his family being there, watching over him while he was unconscious, brought a lump to his throat. He had always prided himself on his independence, on his ability to stand on his own. But knowing that they had been there, even when he wasn’t aware of it, filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
After some coaxing from the nurse, Percy managed to sit up, his body protesting every movement. With the help of a walker, he began to shuffle around the hospital floor, each step a painful reminder of how far he had fallen.
His mind wandered to the titles he had fought so hard to win, the championships that had defined his career. But as he moved, a sense of foreboding crept in. He had a sinking feeling that everything he had worked for was slipping through his fingers.
Later that day, as Percy sat by the window, staring out at the cloudy sky, he heard the familiar sound of someone entering his room. He turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, his expression unreadable. Despite everything, Lucius had always been a constant in Percy’s life, a mentor who had pushed him to be the best, even if it meant making difficult choices.
"Lucius," Percy greeted, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "What are you doing here?"
Lucius approached him slowly, his eyes scanning Percy’s weakened form with something that almost resembled concern. "I should have known," Lucius began, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "You should have told me that your body was breaking down, Percy."
Percy looked away, unable to meet Lucius’s gaze. He had known the risks, had felt his body weakening, but he had pushed through, determined to reach the top. "It’s not your fault," Percy replied quietly. "I didn’t want to let anyone down."
Lucius sighed, taking a seat beside Percy. "Despite my differences with your father, I would never want to see one of his sons hurt like this." There was a brief pause, then Lucius continued, "Percy, we need to talk about the championships."
Percy’s heart sank. He had known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. "What about them?"
Lucius hesitated before speaking, as if searching for the right words. "You’ve accomplished more than anyone thought possible, but in your current state, you can’t defend your titles. The governing body has decided that you’ll have to be stripped of your championships."
The words hit Percy like a physical blow. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he felt as if the world was crumbling around him. He had come so close, had sacrificed so much, and now it was all slipping away.
"Is there nothing you can do?" Percy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lucius looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and resolve. "There is one option," he said slowly. "The FMW World Heavyweight Champion, Big Van Vader, has expressed a willingness to put his title on the line, but only if you’re willing to put all nine of your titles on the line as well."
Percy’s heart raced. The thought of facing Big Van Vader, a man known for his overwhelming power and ferocity, was daunting enough. But to put everything on the line in one match? It was the ultimate gamble. If he won, he would achieve his lifelong dream. But if he lost, everything he had worked for would be gone, leaving Vader with the unprecedented achievement of holding all ten titles.
The weight of the decision bore down on Percy. He was already broken, his body weakened and his spirit battered. But there was also a fire inside him, a determination that refused to be extinguished. This was his last stand, the final test of everything he had become.
He looked up at Lucius, his eyes burning with resolve.
"Make the match happen."
Lucius hesitated, clearly conflicted. "Percy, I don’t think—"
"You work for me, Lucius," Percy interrupted, his voice stronger than it had been in weeks. "Make it happen."
For a moment, Lucius simply stared at him, and then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes, a respect for the courage Percy was showing.
"Very well," Lucius said, standing up. "I’ll make the arrangements."
As Lucius turned to leave, Percy leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The fear, the uncertainty—it was all there, but so was something else. A sense of purpose, a belief that this was what he had been working towards all along. Win or lose, this would be his defining moment.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection. The road ahead was daunting, but he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was the overwhelming fatigue, the feeling of his body betraying him just as he was on the brink of achieving everything he’d worked for.
As his vision cleared, Percy noticed the empty chair beside his bed, its cushions slightly indented as if someone had been sitting there for a long time.
Before he could wonder who it might have been, a nurse entered the room, offering him a gentle smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Weasley," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "You’ve been out for quite some time."
Percy frowned, his mind still foggy. "How long?" he asked, his voice raspy from disuse.
"Two weeks," the nurse replied, sympathy in her eyes. "You’ve had visitors every day. Your mother, father, your brothers, and sister. They’ve all been taking turns, making sure you were never alone."
The thought of his family being there, watching over him while he was unconscious, brought a lump to his throat. He had always prided himself on his independence, on his ability to stand on his own. But knowing that they had been there, even when he wasn’t aware of it, filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
After some coaxing from the nurse, Percy managed to sit up, his body protesting every movement. With the help of a walker, he began to shuffle around the hospital floor, each step a painful reminder of how far he had fallen.
His mind wandered to the titles he had fought so hard to win, the championships that had defined his career. But as he moved, a sense of foreboding crept in. He had a sinking feeling that everything he had worked for was slipping through his fingers.
Later that day, as Percy sat by the window, staring out at the cloudy sky, he heard the familiar sound of someone entering his room. He turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, his expression unreadable. Despite everything, Lucius had always been a constant in Percy’s life, a mentor who had pushed him to be the best, even if it meant making difficult choices.
"Lucius," Percy greeted, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "What are you doing here?"
Lucius approached him slowly, his eyes scanning Percy’s weakened form with something that almost resembled concern. "I should have known," Lucius began, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "You should have told me that your body was breaking down, Percy."
Percy looked away, unable to meet Lucius’s gaze. He had known the risks, had felt his body weakening, but he had pushed through, determined to reach the top. "It’s not your fault," Percy replied quietly. "I didn’t want to let anyone down."
Lucius sighed, taking a seat beside Percy. "Despite my differences with your father, I would never want to see one of his sons hurt like this." There was a brief pause, then Lucius continued, "Percy, we need to talk about the championships."
Percy’s heart sank. He had known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. "What about them?"
Lucius hesitated before speaking, as if searching for the right words. "You’ve accomplished more than anyone thought possible, but in your current state, you can’t defend your titles. The governing body has decided that you’ll have to be stripped of your championships."
The words hit Percy like a physical blow. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he felt as if the world was crumbling around him. He had come so close, had sacrificed so much, and now it was all slipping away.
"Is there nothing you can do?" Percy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lucius looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and resolve. "There is one option," he said slowly. "The FMW World Heavyweight Champion, Big Van Vader, has expressed a willingness to put his title on the line, but only if you’re willing to put all nine of your titles on the line as well."
Percy’s heart raced. The thought of facing Big Van Vader, a man known for his overwhelming power and ferocity, was daunting enough. But to put everything on the line in one match? It was the ultimate gamble. If he won, he would achieve his lifelong dream. But if he lost, everything he had worked for would be gone, leaving Vader with the unprecedented achievement of holding all ten titles.
The weight of the decision bore down on Percy. He was already broken, his body weakened and his spirit battered. But there was also a fire inside him, a determination that refused to be extinguished. This was his last stand, the final test of everything he had become.
He looked up at Lucius, his eyes burning with resolve.
"Make the match happen."
Lucius hesitated, clearly conflicted. "Percy, I don’t think—"
"You work for me, Lucius," Percy interrupted, his voice stronger than it had been in weeks. "Make it happen."
For a moment, Lucius simply stared at him, and then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes, a respect for the courage Percy was showing.
"Very well," Lucius said, standing up. "I’ll make the arrangements."
As Lucius turned to leave, Percy leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The fear, the uncertainty—it was all there, but so was something else. A sense of purpose, a belief that this was what he had been working towards all along. Win or lose, this would be his defining moment.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection. The road ahead was daunting, but he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
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