Categories > Books > Harry Potter > A Perfect Ten
The bustling energy of Rome, usually so vibrant and full of life, felt strangely muted for the Weasleys as they arrived in the ancient city. The anticipation of seeing Percy, of possibly saving him from the dark path he was on, weighed heavily on them all.
They had come so far, driven by a mixture of love, fear, and guilt, hoping that somehow, they could bring him back from the edge before it was too late.
The day of the FMW press conference arrived, and the Weasleys attended with tense hearts. The grand hall where the conference was held was packed with reporters, fans, and other fighters, all buzzing with excitement for the upcoming "Clash of the Champions" event. The air was thick with tension, the anticipation for what was being called the most brutal and high-stakes match in the history of FMW.
As they took their seats, Arthur, Molly, and the others scanned the room anxiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of Percy. But as the press conference began, their hopes were dashed when they realized he wasn’t there. Instead, the stage was dominated by the imposing figure of Vader, who seemed to take pleasure in the absence of his opponent.
The tension in the room grew palpable as Vader stepped forward, his massive frame dwarfing the podium. He was every bit the intimidating presence the Weasleys had feared, his face twisted into a sneer as he surveyed the crowd. When he spoke, his voice was low and menacing, cutting through the air like a knife.
“Where is Ryker Black?” Vader taunted, his sneer widening as the reporters leaned forward, eager for a confrontation. “Where is the so-called ‘champion’ who promised he’d die trying?” He let out a derisive chuckle, his gaze sweeping across the room as if daring anyone to challenge him. “He’s a coward. He talks big, but when it comes down to it, he’s full of hot air and no backbone. I’ll tell you all something,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “Ryker Black is going to find out that the words ‘die trying’ are more prolific than he thinks. If he dies, he dies.”
The cruel words hung in the air, striking the Weasleys like a physical blow. The entire family tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for their wands, but they were out of their element, surrounded by Muggles and security. Even though hexing Vader right then and there would have been satisfying, it would solve nothing, and Percy would still be in danger.
Ron, his temper flaring, glared daggers at Vader, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. But as much as he wanted to charge the stage, to defend his brother's honor, he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, though the rage still simmered beneath the surface.
After the press conference ended, the Weasleys pushed their way through the crowd, desperate to find any sign of Percy. It wasn’t long before they ran into Lucius Malfoy, standing off to the side with a smug expression as if he had been expecting them.
“Malfoy!” Arthur barked, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and desperation. “Where is my son?”
Lucius turned slowly, his cold eyes meeting Arthur’s with a look of almost amused indifference. He seemed entirely unbothered by the Weasleys’ presence, as if they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his grand plans.
“Arthur, Molly,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. “What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here. Although I suppose it was only a matter of time.”
“Where is he?” Ginny demanded, her voice sharp, but the fear behind it was unmistakable. “We know you’ve been managing him, pushing him into these matches. Where is Percy?”
Lucius smirked, his gaze flicking over the worried faces of the Weasley family before finally settling back on Arthur. “I can tell you where he is,” Lucius said slowly, savoring every word. “But I’ll be honest with you—finding him won’t change anything. You see, Percy has made his choices. He’s far beyond anything you can hope to sway with your sentiments.”
Arthur’s face twisted with a mixture of anger and pain, but he refused to back down. “You don’t know that,” he said, his voice trembling. “He’s still our son. If there’s any part of him left that remembers who he is, who we are, we’ll reach him.”
Lucius’s smirk faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said coldly. “But if you insist on seeing him, I won’t stop you. He’s resting in his hotel room, preparing for his match.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But remember this, if you push him too far, he may never come back at all.”
With that ominous warning, Lucius turned and walked away, leaving the Weasleys standing in the crowded hall, their hearts heavy with dread. Despite the fear gnawing at them, they knew they couldn’t give up. They had come too far to turn back now.
“Let’s go,” Arthur said quietly, his voice steely with resolve. “We need to see Percy.”
Together, they made their way to the hotel where Percy was staying, hoping against hope that they could reach him before it was too late.
The Weasleys approached Percy’s hotel room with trepidation, the weight of their mission pressing heavily on their shoulders. They had seen the pain and exhaustion etched into his face during the press conference footage, but they hadn’t anticipated the serene calm that greeted them when Percy opened the door. He stood before them, dressed casually, looking more like the Percy they remembered, albeit with an edge of hardened determination that hadn't been there before.
Percy ushered them inside with a quiet smile, his demeanor oddly serene given the impending match that could very well end his life. The television was on in the background, a live interview with Vader playing as the family filed into the room. Vader’s booming voice filled the room, his words dripping with venom as he addressed the upcoming fight.
“‘Die trying’ those will be the epitaph on Ryker Black’s tombstone,” Vader growled into the camera, his menacing figure dominating the screen. His eyes glinted with malice, and it was clear that he was relishing the thought of finally crushing Percy in the ring.
Percy glanced at the screen, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“He seems really mad,” he remarked lightly, as if discussing the weather rather than the life-threatening match he was about to partake in. His calmness was unsettling, especially to his family, who were all too aware of the dangers he was facing.
Arthur, Molly, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George all exchanged worried glances, their anxiety only deepening at Percy’s nonchalant attitude. Arthur stepped forward, his voice thick with concern.
“Percy, this isn’t a joke,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “We’ve seen what you’ve been through. We know how close you came to death the last time. You can’t keep doing this. You have a wife and a daughter at home, Percy. You need to think about them.”
Molly nodded fervently, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Please, Percy, listen to us. You’re not well enough for this. You’re pushing yourself too far. Whatever this is, it isn’t worth your life.”
Percy looked at them, his eyes softening for just a moment as he took in the worry and love etched on their faces. For a fleeting second, it seemed as if their words had reached him, as if he was truly considering what they were saying.
Then, with a heavy sigh, Percy nodded. “You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "I won’t go through with the match tomorrow night. I’ll withdraw.”
The Weasleys all exhaled in relief, the tension in the room easing slightly. They had done it. They had reached him, convinced him to see reason. Molly stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Percy in a tight hug, her tears finally spilling over.
“Thank you, Percy,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Fred and George exchanged a look, both of them feeling a surge of hope that maybe, just maybe, they had their brother back. Ginny and Ron watched Percy carefully, still wary but hopeful that he was truly going to follow through.
But as Percy stood there, returning his mother’s embrace, his mind was already working on an escape plan. He knew his family meant well, but they didn’t understand what this match meant to him—what it represented. He had come too far to turn back now. He had made promises to himself and to Lucius that he intended to keep. The fight was more than just a match; it was his chance to prove to the world, to himself, that he was unstoppable, that nothing could break him.
As they released him and began discussing the next steps, Percy’s mind was already made up. He would go along with their plan for now, but the moment he had an opportunity, he would make his way to the arena. He would face Vader, no matter the cost.
Percy had always been good at strategy, at thinking ahead and planning his moves carefully. This would be no different. He would keep his family close, let them believe they had won, and then when the time was right, he would slip away. They would try to stop him, but he was determined not to let that happen.
For now, he needed to keep them calm, keep them believing that he had changed his mind. It was the only way to get through the night without them forcibly trying to prevent him from leaving.
As they all sat down together, discussing how they would get Percy out of Rome and back home, Percy played along, nodding at the right moments and even suggesting some ideas of his own. But in the back of his mind, he was counting down the hours until he could make his escape.
Percy had already committed to this path. He had come too far to back down now.
They had come so far, driven by a mixture of love, fear, and guilt, hoping that somehow, they could bring him back from the edge before it was too late.
The day of the FMW press conference arrived, and the Weasleys attended with tense hearts. The grand hall where the conference was held was packed with reporters, fans, and other fighters, all buzzing with excitement for the upcoming "Clash of the Champions" event. The air was thick with tension, the anticipation for what was being called the most brutal and high-stakes match in the history of FMW.
As they took their seats, Arthur, Molly, and the others scanned the room anxiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of Percy. But as the press conference began, their hopes were dashed when they realized he wasn’t there. Instead, the stage was dominated by the imposing figure of Vader, who seemed to take pleasure in the absence of his opponent.
The tension in the room grew palpable as Vader stepped forward, his massive frame dwarfing the podium. He was every bit the intimidating presence the Weasleys had feared, his face twisted into a sneer as he surveyed the crowd. When he spoke, his voice was low and menacing, cutting through the air like a knife.
“Where is Ryker Black?” Vader taunted, his sneer widening as the reporters leaned forward, eager for a confrontation. “Where is the so-called ‘champion’ who promised he’d die trying?” He let out a derisive chuckle, his gaze sweeping across the room as if daring anyone to challenge him. “He’s a coward. He talks big, but when it comes down to it, he’s full of hot air and no backbone. I’ll tell you all something,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “Ryker Black is going to find out that the words ‘die trying’ are more prolific than he thinks. If he dies, he dies.”
The cruel words hung in the air, striking the Weasleys like a physical blow. The entire family tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for their wands, but they were out of their element, surrounded by Muggles and security. Even though hexing Vader right then and there would have been satisfying, it would solve nothing, and Percy would still be in danger.
Ron, his temper flaring, glared daggers at Vader, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. But as much as he wanted to charge the stage, to defend his brother's honor, he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away, though the rage still simmered beneath the surface.
After the press conference ended, the Weasleys pushed their way through the crowd, desperate to find any sign of Percy. It wasn’t long before they ran into Lucius Malfoy, standing off to the side with a smug expression as if he had been expecting them.
“Malfoy!” Arthur barked, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and desperation. “Where is my son?”
Lucius turned slowly, his cold eyes meeting Arthur’s with a look of almost amused indifference. He seemed entirely unbothered by the Weasleys’ presence, as if they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his grand plans.
“Arthur, Molly,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. “What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here. Although I suppose it was only a matter of time.”
“Where is he?” Ginny demanded, her voice sharp, but the fear behind it was unmistakable. “We know you’ve been managing him, pushing him into these matches. Where is Percy?”
Lucius smirked, his gaze flicking over the worried faces of the Weasley family before finally settling back on Arthur. “I can tell you where he is,” Lucius said slowly, savoring every word. “But I’ll be honest with you—finding him won’t change anything. You see, Percy has made his choices. He’s far beyond anything you can hope to sway with your sentiments.”
Arthur’s face twisted with a mixture of anger and pain, but he refused to back down. “You don’t know that,” he said, his voice trembling. “He’s still our son. If there’s any part of him left that remembers who he is, who we are, we’ll reach him.”
Lucius’s smirk faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said coldly. “But if you insist on seeing him, I won’t stop you. He’s resting in his hotel room, preparing for his match.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But remember this, if you push him too far, he may never come back at all.”
With that ominous warning, Lucius turned and walked away, leaving the Weasleys standing in the crowded hall, their hearts heavy with dread. Despite the fear gnawing at them, they knew they couldn’t give up. They had come too far to turn back now.
“Let’s go,” Arthur said quietly, his voice steely with resolve. “We need to see Percy.”
Together, they made their way to the hotel where Percy was staying, hoping against hope that they could reach him before it was too late.
The Weasleys approached Percy’s hotel room with trepidation, the weight of their mission pressing heavily on their shoulders. They had seen the pain and exhaustion etched into his face during the press conference footage, but they hadn’t anticipated the serene calm that greeted them when Percy opened the door. He stood before them, dressed casually, looking more like the Percy they remembered, albeit with an edge of hardened determination that hadn't been there before.
Percy ushered them inside with a quiet smile, his demeanor oddly serene given the impending match that could very well end his life. The television was on in the background, a live interview with Vader playing as the family filed into the room. Vader’s booming voice filled the room, his words dripping with venom as he addressed the upcoming fight.
“‘Die trying’ those will be the epitaph on Ryker Black’s tombstone,” Vader growled into the camera, his menacing figure dominating the screen. His eyes glinted with malice, and it was clear that he was relishing the thought of finally crushing Percy in the ring.
Percy glanced at the screen, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“He seems really mad,” he remarked lightly, as if discussing the weather rather than the life-threatening match he was about to partake in. His calmness was unsettling, especially to his family, who were all too aware of the dangers he was facing.
Arthur, Molly, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George all exchanged worried glances, their anxiety only deepening at Percy’s nonchalant attitude. Arthur stepped forward, his voice thick with concern.
“Percy, this isn’t a joke,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “We’ve seen what you’ve been through. We know how close you came to death the last time. You can’t keep doing this. You have a wife and a daughter at home, Percy. You need to think about them.”
Molly nodded fervently, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Please, Percy, listen to us. You’re not well enough for this. You’re pushing yourself too far. Whatever this is, it isn’t worth your life.”
Percy looked at them, his eyes softening for just a moment as he took in the worry and love etched on their faces. For a fleeting second, it seemed as if their words had reached him, as if he was truly considering what they were saying.
Then, with a heavy sigh, Percy nodded. “You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "I won’t go through with the match tomorrow night. I’ll withdraw.”
The Weasleys all exhaled in relief, the tension in the room easing slightly. They had done it. They had reached him, convinced him to see reason. Molly stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Percy in a tight hug, her tears finally spilling over.
“Thank you, Percy,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Fred and George exchanged a look, both of them feeling a surge of hope that maybe, just maybe, they had their brother back. Ginny and Ron watched Percy carefully, still wary but hopeful that he was truly going to follow through.
But as Percy stood there, returning his mother’s embrace, his mind was already working on an escape plan. He knew his family meant well, but they didn’t understand what this match meant to him—what it represented. He had come too far to turn back now. He had made promises to himself and to Lucius that he intended to keep. The fight was more than just a match; it was his chance to prove to the world, to himself, that he was unstoppable, that nothing could break him.
As they released him and began discussing the next steps, Percy’s mind was already made up. He would go along with their plan for now, but the moment he had an opportunity, he would make his way to the arena. He would face Vader, no matter the cost.
Percy had always been good at strategy, at thinking ahead and planning his moves carefully. This would be no different. He would keep his family close, let them believe they had won, and then when the time was right, he would slip away. They would try to stop him, but he was determined not to let that happen.
For now, he needed to keep them calm, keep them believing that he had changed his mind. It was the only way to get through the night without them forcibly trying to prevent him from leaving.
As they all sat down together, discussing how they would get Percy out of Rome and back home, Percy played along, nodding at the right moments and even suggesting some ideas of his own. But in the back of his mind, he was counting down the hours until he could make his escape.
Percy had already committed to this path. He had come too far to back down now.
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