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“Godric, Theo. These seats are amazing; they must have cost a fortune!” Hermione peered around at the stadium filled to the max with screaming fans of all ages. They were seated right behind a thick, padded barrier, next to some guy with a ridiculously large watch and dark sunglasses, despite being indoors, and whom she assumed was his paramour for the evening—a curvy redhead with heavily lined eyes and killer coffin finger nails.
“A drop in the bucket, chaton,” he shouted over the noise of the crowd. “I couldn’t watch my bestie’s main event Wrestlemania from the cheap seats!”
His smile widened as their private concierge brought them popcorn and white wine. Hermione was sceptical that the concierge was part of their ticket package since none of the other attendees were being served at the same rate they were, but she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“How many matches until Millie’s?”
Theo leafed through the program. “Looks like the Intercontinental Championship match, a women’s match, something called a TLC match—”
“Tables, Ladders, and Chairs,” drawled an older gentleman, seated next to him, with a large cowboy hat and a lazy eye. “It’ll be a real slabberknocker.”
“You’re damn right, JR,” quipped another man, who wore a fitted black t-shirt and carried a crown tucked under his arm. He looked as if he had more to say, but an eager fan approached and asked him for an autograph.
Theo turned back to the booklet and continued down the list of the six matches that were taking place before the main event. “Then Mills comes out.”
The lights above them dimmed, and the crowd around them roared as a montage began to play. Hermione had never really watched professional wrestling, but when her boyfriend’s best friend was participating in a once-in-a-lifetime match, she agreed to jet off to Vegas to watch the show. So, she diligently studied the broadcasts leading up to the biggest wrestling event of the year, asking Theo all the necessary questions of who was who, what their signature move was, and why that one wrestler’s spray tan was so bad.
A burly, bald man in a suit appeared in front of a three-story wall of video screens, the music blasting through the space so loudly that her body pulsed with each drumbeat. He sprayed water from his mouth as green lasers flashed behind him, sending the crowd into another frenzy of excitement.
Hermione couldn’t help but be caught up in the theatricality of it all. She cheered and booed along with the other fans—except for the buxom redhead who idly scrolled social media instead of watching the matches. By the time Milicent’s match was about to begin, her voice was almost hoarse from all the screaming.
Another video montage played on the jumbotron, showing Millie’s, who went by Mámí, and the other wrestler’s previous matches and rivalry. This was for the Women’s World Championship belt, and Millie had won a twelve-woman gauntlet to claim the number one contender. Her opponent, Emerald Grace, was the current champion, and, from what Hermione could see, an acrobat in the ring, turning flips and flying off the top rope in the clips that played. Theo had explained that Millie was a powerhouse wrestler, often picking up and slamming her opponents around in the ring.
The videos cut, and the lights went out. Theo banged on the barrier, chanting, “Mámí, Mámí,” along with the rest of the crowd. Suddenly, the spotlight shone on a group of men bunched up in a tight cluster. They began fast rhythmic drumming on their chests before one of them, with a mic, began the song with a screamed “Let’s Go.” Pyrotechnics lit up the stadium, and Hermione’s eardrums popped as the crowd reached a new decibel.
Millicent stepped up next to the lead singer and sang along with the lyrics with a feral grin on her face. Decked out in a matching black and red leather bustier and bikini bottoms, black combat boots, and fishnets, she cut a terrifying image as she stomped down the ramp. Hermione flashed back to being put in a headlock by her former school bully and almost pitied the woman having to get in the ring with her.
More pyrotechnics went off as she made it to the center of the ring, arms raised over her head and fist pumping in time with the song. It was obvious that the crowd loved her, and, even more apparent, that she fed off the energy.
The music faded, and the lights dimmed once more as they readied for Emerald’s entrance. A heavy EDM beat landed, and lasers sliced through the air. Wearing a long cape made of pink ostrich feathers, the reigning champ sashayed down the ramp. She was the exact opposite of Millie’s aesthetic, all bright colors, blonde hair, and bombshell makeup. When she climbed into the ring and the two of them stood next to each other, the juxtaposition of who they were was amplified—the angel and the demon.
Hermione couldn’t tell who the crowd loved more, the noise level near-deafening while the ring announcer introduced them. Theo leaned over and whisper-shouted in her ear, “Do you want me to spoil the ending for you?”
“No!” she instantly responded. The end result might have already been determined, but she was excited to see the match unfold.
The two women were of similar height, but it was apparent that Millie was the more muscular of the two. They exchanged blows and jabs. Emerald got Millie in a leglock at one point, trying to get her to tap out, but she managed to reach the ropes and get out of it. Then Millie landed a clothesline that had Emerald bouncing on the mat. The woman popped back up and hit Millie with a hard elbow to the side of her head. Temporarily stunned, she stumbled over to the corner, vulnerable to another attack, which came in the form of a spear to her midriff.
The crowd rallied, cheering for Millie to get back into the fight. She shoved Emerald off of her and shook herself loose before grabbing the other wrestler and hoisting her over her head and throwing her face-first into the mat. The crowd went ballistic as the woman bounced off the mat and rolled under the bottom rope of the ring, seeking reprieve from the fight.
Millie was about to exit the ring and pummel her some more when another wrestler’s music hit. A woman began singing in Spanish, and the crowd roared, all eyes trained on the entrance stage. When the first rap lyric dropped, a man sauntered out onto the ramp, his long mullet flowing behind him as he smirked and smoothed his mustache with his fingertips.
“Who is that?” Hermione asked Theo.
“El Elegido,” Theo snickered with a knowing look.
He was obviously a luchador based on his gear, but she hadn’t seen him in any of the recent shows she had watched. Her eyes narrowed on his face the closer he drew to the ring. “Why does he look so familiar?”
Theo draped his arm around her shoulders and stole a quick kiss on her cheek. “You’ll figure it out, chaton, I have faith in you.”
Millie glowered at the man interrupting her match; her look promising brutal retribution. But he ignored her and leisurely strolled over to where Emerald sat on the floor, collecting herself. He seemed to check on the woman before rising and taunting Millie with a “What’s wrong? Can’t pick on someone your own size?”
His voice…Hermione knew that voice.
The woman shot back, “Yeah? Well, send someone out here who is, Chosen One, because you certainly aren’t.”
Hermione’s head twisted to Theo. “It can’t be.”
He chuckled, “Didn’t you always wonder where Potter got off to when he went on his little special secret trips?”
“I think I would know if my best friend became a professional wrestler!”
“Ah, but my love,” he simpered. “You’ve been far too busy saving all the little beasties and then changing the world.”
“But his hair is completely different, and there’s a moustache. Harry Potter does not have a moustache.”
“Too right, but El Elegido has both of those things, and hair-growing potions and glamours exist.” He winked and patted her on the bum. “Just enjoy the show, chaton.”
Her retort died on her tongue when Harry hopped into the ring, and he and Millicent began circling each other. The crowd was eating the tension up, half of them chanting, “Stun him,” while the other called, “Kiss him.”
“I’m assuming there’s a storyline involving them that is spurring the wildly different requests?”
“Former star-crossed childhood lovers,” Theo explained, throwing his hand over his heart in a show of dramatics.
Hermione snorted. “That’s the most unbelievable bit of everything I’ve seen tonight.”
Harry feinted like he was going to trip Millicent, but she blocked him and placed him in her signature headlock. Emerald was standing on the outside of the ring, pounding her fist against the mat, urging Harry to take Millie out for her.
But Millie proved too strong for him. Just like she did with Emerald, she lifted Harry’s body over her head and threw him over the top rope of the ring. His body crashing into Emerald’s, they went careening into the announcers’ table, the wood collapsing underneath them. The crowd went wild, cheering and stomping their feet.
Millie slid out under the bottom rope and dragged Emerald back into the ring, positioning her body in the center of the mat. After climbing to the top rope, she signaled around at the crowd, pumping her arms for them to get louder before landing a moonsault onto the woman’s prone form. She hauled one of Emerald’s legs up and pinned her upper body, nodding her head as the referee clapped his hand on the mat three times. With the final ringing of the bell, she had done it. The championship belt was hers.
Theo and Hermione screamed with the rest in celebration; pyrotechnics went off all around the stadium.
Millicent pointed to Theo and shot him a wink, and he made a heart sign back at her before grabbing Hermione’s hand. “Come on. This after-party is about to be insane. Blaise rented out the whole top floor of the hotel.”
They turned to exit, but she stopped when a body tried to sneak by her. “Oh no, you don’t, Harry Potter!”
“Sush, Mione,” he chastised. “Not my real name around the fans.”
“You have a lot of explaining to do.”
He walked backward towards the ramp. “Once I’m home. Until then, ‘hasta luego.’”
“You don’t speak Spanish!” she yelled, but her statement was lost in the din of the noise.
She didn’t worry too much, though; she would drag the whole story out of him that night at the after-party. Until then, she was going to the merch table to buy all the El Elegido shirts and gift them to the Weasleys for Christmas.