FicWad

Fred and George sat in their room, staring out the window, frustrated at the sight of the perfect weather for Quidditch. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and all they could think about was the game they weren’t allowed to play. It wasn’t fair. Their parents had gone out for the night, leaving Percy in charge, and of course, their ever-uptight older brother had immediately shot down their plans to go outside.

“He’s such a bore,” Fred muttered, tossing a Quaffle from one hand to the other. “We’re grounded, not imprisoned. It’s just a bit of Quidditch.”

“Yeah, well, you know Percy,” George replied with a shrug, leaning back on the bed. “He’d rather polish his Head Boy badge than let us have any fun.”

Fred chuckled softly but then frowned, deep in thought.

"When was the last time Percy have any fun? When's the last time he's even laughed? I mean, really laughed?"

George raised an eyebrow, considering the question.

"Honestly? I don't think he can." Fred's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, the gears in his mind already turning.

"Well," he said slowly, a grin spreading across his face, "I think it's time we found out." George caught on quickly, his own grin mirroring Fred's.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

"Oh, I am," Fred replied, standing up.

The twins exchanged a knowing look, and without another word, they bounded out of their room, quietly making their way to the living room, where Percy sat stiffly in an armchair, engrossed in a thick book. His posture was as rigid as ever, his nose buried in the pages, completely oblivious to the fact that his younger brothers were about to unleash their latest scheme. Fred and George exchanged a quick glance, confirming their plan without needing to speak. Then, in one swift move, they pounced. Percy barely had time to register what was happening before Fred and George tackled him out of the chair, sending the book flying into the air.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Percy spluttered, as he tried to push the twins off. "Get off me this instant!"

Unfortunately for him, he was no match when the twins were determined. They wrestled Percy to the floor, pinning him down despite his protests. easily pinning him down with their combined strength. Fred trapped Percy's arms under his knees as he straddled his waist while George sat down on his shins. Despite the situation, Percy merely stayed calm since he knew it was pointless to wear himself out when there was no hope of escape.

Fred laced his fingers and stretch them out in front of them, grinning eagerly down at Percy, who could feel his nervousness rise. Especially when he felt George taking off his slippers, and Fred began unbuttoning Percy's robe, giving Fred better access to his ribs and sides.

"Now you're ours." Fred grinned.

They did not keep Percy in suspense for long. Fred's hands descended on each side of Percy's ribs and instantly attacked. Percy's trapped fists clenched, and his body gave a little jump, but no sound left his mouth. Percy tried to focus on to trying to block out the other half of the attack.

Meanwhile, George's hands hovered over each foot, giving Percy more to worry about. Fingertips quickly teased both soles, making them flinch and curl for a minute before he forced them still, refusing to give them the satisfaction. He could not stop them from twitching at each tickle, but he could at least try to make himself deal with it.

Clamping down on the laughter bubbling in his gut, Percy held his breath as his mind tried to focus on complex potion making, lengthy essays he wrote at Hogwarts, his upcoming job at the Ministry, anything to carry his mind half away from this torture. For the time being, it worked. Fred frowned at the tense, but silent Percy.

They shouldn't be getting no reaction. He then looked back at George.

"You're going too easy on him."

"I am not," George retorted, and went a little faster bringing his fingers on each hand just under the heel of both of Percy's feet, making them try to shake off the offender. "But he just won't laugh. I'm telling you, I think he might not be able to."

Fred blinked down at their stubborn brother, actually a little impressed by Percy's willpower. That's when he started to remember something he did to Ginny when she was much younger.

"George, come up here. I've got an idea." George stopped tickling Percy's feet. "Hold onto his arms."

As Fred started to shift his weight, Percy waited until one arm was carelessly neglected in the switch and actively struggled to be free again before he was subject to more torture. In the struggle Percy accidentally smacked Fred across the face before his arm was subdued by George. After the boy's initial surprise, Fred leered down at the newly dangered victim.

"Oh, now you're really gonna get it." Fred said with a wicked grin, rubbing his cheek where Percy had accidentally smacked him during his feeble attempt at resistance.

George, meanwhile, pinned Percy's wrists next to his head and leaned in close to his face so Percy could see his sly upside-down grin. "Percy, Percy, Percy," he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "You should know better than to fight back. Now you've just made it worse for yourself."

Percy, still scowling, gave one last attempt to buck them off, but Fred and George had years of experience when it came to wrestling and tormenting their siblings. He was well and truly trapped.

Fred grabbed his shirt, and Percy realized what was coming. He bucked wildly, though he knew it was hopeless. All he could do was shut his eyes and turn away to avoid the horrible sight. With the shirt yanked up, he took a deep breath to try his barriers again, as Fred bent down and pressed his lips against Percy's stomach.

'Pbtfffffffffffff!'

The reaction was instantaneous. Percy's mirth easily broke through his already weakened defense for a total of three seconds before he clenched his jaw back shut. Percy didn't want to give the twins the satisfaction of winning. Fred and George smiled at each other in triumph. Another raspberry made Percy jump and snort, squirming and jerking to get away. Fred straightened back up, but only to let both of his hands dive for Percy's now vulnerable underarms. The surprise attack caused an odd squeak pierce through his throat, but he kept his mouth closed.

Ragged snorts and breathing gave away his state enough to let the torturers know of their success anyhow. Percy did not dare open his eyes, too afraid to see the triumphant grins on their faces. Percy shook his head back and forth in ticklish agony as they tickled him to pieces. Fred's fingers then traveled up, fluttered all around Percy's neck, traveling over the shells of his ears or down to his collarbones every once in a while. As Fred went back to his neck, Percy turned his head and half buried his face into the shoulder of his robe to try and muffle the sound of his snorts and giggles.

After about a minute, Fred stopped and finally got up, only to move down to Percy's lower half. In order to prevent Percy from trying to escape, George shifted his knees to lean down on Percy's wrists, continued tickling Percy's underarms so Fred could position himself to tickle Percy's feet.

Percy gasped for air between bouts of laughter, his face red with exertion.

"Y-you—two—are—completely—mad!" he managed to wheeze out, his voice breaking into a sharp giggle as George's fingers danced relentlessly under his arms.

"Oh, we know," George grinned, tightening his grip as Percy squirmed and thrashed beneath him. "This is for your own good, Perce. You should've laughed more as a kid. Maybe then we wouldn't have to force it out of you."

Fred, meanwhile, had positioned himself at Percy's feet, cracking his knuckles dramatically. "Now," he said, winking at George, "we're getting to the real fun."

Percy barely had time to process the ominous statement before Fred's fingers descended on his exposed soles. His body jerked violently as Fred expertly scratched at the spot just below his toes.

"NO—NOT THERE—FRED—" Percy kicked wildly, his laughter reaching a whole new level of hysteria. Somehow, this was even worst than when George had been doing it. Percy's usually proper and refined composure had completely crumbled, and he was reduced to a flailing, breathless mess.

"Oh-ho, now this is a reaction!" Fred smirked in satisfaction. He varied his technique, raking his fingers up and down the arch of Percy's foot before scribbling over the ball of it, making Percy nearly scream with laughter. Percy bucked again, but George easily held his arms down, giving Fred complete control.

"Think he'll beg?" Fred asked, looking up at George, his fingers never pausing in their attack.

"Give him another minute," George replied, grinning. "He's really stubborn."

Fred nodded, deciding to test something. He cupped Percy's right heel in his hand, and just as he had earlier with Percy's stomach, and blew a loud raspberry against the sole of his foot. Percy's reaction was instantaneous.

A startled shriek erupted from his throat as he convulsed, his body twisting desperately to escape.

"MERLIN'S BEARD—ST-STOP! YOU—" He choked out in between gasps and bursts of helpless laughter. "I'LL—MAKE—YOU—REGRET—"

"Sorry, what was that?" Fred teased, giving another raspberry to Percy's sole, making him thrash even harder.


Fred leaned in dramatically, as if he were conducting a solemn ritual. “Sorry, Percy, couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of your own shrieking,” he said with mock seriousness, then blew a third, even louder raspberry into the center of Percy’s foot.

“AAHHAHAHA—YOU LITTLE—STOOOOOOP!” Percy’s voice cracked into a full-bodied cackle, his carefully cultivated dignity in absolute tatters. His hair, once neatly parted, was now sticking up in all directions, and his glasses had slid halfway down his face, fogged with sweat and breathless giggling.

George was nearly crying with laughter himself, struggling to keep a firm hold of Percy’s flailing wrists. “You hear that, Fred? That’s the sound of repressed joy finally breaking free.”

“I think this might be therapeutic,” Fred agreed. “We’re basically healers.”

“Saints, even,” George added, nodding sagely. “Saint Fred and Saint George—patron pranksters of ticklish older brothers.”

Percy’s response was an unintelligible stream of half-choked giggles and breathless attempts to curse their names.

“Oh, he's speaking in tongues!” Fred gasped, feigning shock. “The joy is literally overwhelming him.”

“You know what would help?” George said, eyes gleaming. “Double-foot raspberry of doom.”

Fred blinked slowly. “That’s a sacred technique.”

With synchronized mischief only perfected through years of being identical chaos incarnate, Fred gripped Percy's ankle so he couldn't get away as George quickly let go of Percy's wrists, moving down to grab Percy's loose left ankle. Percy instantly began shouting his protests between gasps.

“YOU WOULDN’T—YOU ABSOLUTE DEMONS—IF YOU DO THAT—I’LL HAVE YOU SENT TO AZKAB—AAAHHH!!”

Too late.

The twins each leaned in and unleashed dual raspberries against the bottoms of Percy’s feet.

The reaction was instant.

Percy shrieked with laughter, a sound so unfiltered and ridiculous that somewhere, the ghoul in the attic rattled in sympathy. His voice cracked like a teenage banshee in choir practice. “MERLIN’S PANTS—HAHAHAHA—YOU’RE INSANE—INSANE!!”

Fred and George looked at each other in delight as Percy completely dissolved, tears of laughter streaming down his red face. His struggles were wild but hopeless—he couldn’t break free, and the twins weren’t about to show any mercy.

Fred leaned back slightly, wiping a bit of moisture off his brow. "I think we broke him," he said cheerfully.

George, panting a bit from laughing himself, grinned. "We’re not stopping until we hear the magic words."

Percy, meanwhile, could barely breathe. His voice came out in broken, high-pitched bursts. "Y-You maniacs—HAHAHA—I'm warning you—OH—HAHA—STOP!!"

Fred tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. That doesn’t sound like surrender to me."

"Nope," George agreed. "Clearly, he wants more."

Without further ado, Fred and George gave Percy another synchronized raspberry on the bottoms of his feet.

Percy shrieked.

“AAAAAHAHAHA—NO-NO-NO—HAHAHAHA—PLEASE—STOOOOOP!” he wailed, legs jerking wildly, though both ankles were firmly trapped in the twins' grip.

Fred and George were in their element now — a perfect storm of mischief and strategy. They’d cracked the uncrackable Percy, and each burst of helpless laughter from their overly serious brother only spurred them on.

Fred felt a rush of satisfaction every time Percy’s shriek bounced off the walls of the living room. Merlin, he really needed this, Fred thought. Too much time with his nose in books. Someone’s got to remind him he’s human. With every raspberry he blew against the twitching sole beneath him, he wasn’t just getting back at Percy for being a stick in the mud — he was giving his brother a long-overdue break from his own stiff pride.

Fred grinned wickedly. This is better than any Quidditch match.

Meanwhile, George was nearly giddy with triumph. Look at him! he thought gleefully. He’s actually laughing — not smirking, not scoffing, but proper losing it. I’m going to remember this sound forever. He tightened his grip on Percy’s ankle just a touch, steadying the foot that squirmed madly in his grasp.

Fred and George caught each other’s eyes again — that silent twin language crackling with shared thought:

Keep going.

He’s almost there.

Don’t stop until he begs.

Fred’s inner voice added: And even then… maybe just one or two more for good measure.

The boys struck again, each planting another loud, buzzing raspberry against Percy’s tortured soles. Percy shrieked, voice hoarse, legs bucking wildly. The sheer absurdity of the moment only made Fred and George grin wider.

Fred thought with a smirk, You know, he’ll probably write us a ten-inch essay on “proper sibling behavior” tomorrow. But right now? He’s in our world.

George, fingers flexing in anticipation between raspberries, mused, If Mum finds out, we’ll be grounded until next Christmas. Worth it. Another raspberry escaped his lips, earning a new burst of ragged cackles from Percy.

The twins weren’t cruel. They knew Percy was on the edge, breathless and shaking. But they also knew — sometimes the best medicine was a full dose of ridiculousness. And judging by the tears streaking Percy’s flushed cheeks, this treatment was working wonders.

Fred thought, You’re going to thank us for this one day, Perce. Not today. Probably not tomorrow. But one day.

George, preparing for one final volley, thought, One more good round — then we’ll make him say it. And then… we’ll let him off the hook. Maybe.

Without missing a beat, they leaned in once more, twin grins of pure delight plastered across their faces, ready to deliver another set of raspberries — determined not to stop until their ever-serious brother surrendered to the madness they’d so gleefully unleashed.

Fred and George leaned in, preparing to deliver another devastating round of raspberries. Percy, sensing the incoming doom, summoned what little breath he had left.

"WAIT! HAHAHA—WAIT—PLEASE!" he howled, his voice cracking. The words tumbled out between ragged bursts of uncontrollable laughter. His legs jerked helplessly in their grasp, but he was well and truly caught. His dignity was already in ruins, and he knew he couldn’t take much more.

Fred paused mid-raspberry, exchanging a glance with George.

"You hear that?" Fred said, raising an eyebrow.

"I think he's starting to see reason," George replied, grinning. "Go on then, Perce. We're listening."

Percy gasped for air, sweat dripping down his flushed face, his glasses practically sliding off. His voice came out in hoarse, broken bursts.

"Y-You win—HAHAHAHA—YOU WIN!" he shrieked, flailing helplessly. "I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER! PLEASE—HAHAHA—NO MORE!"

Fred and George exchanged twin grins of triumph.

"There it is," Fred said cheerfully, releasing Percy's ankle and sitting back on his heels. "Was that so hard?"

George let go as well, wiping a tear from his eye. "I think we should call that a personal record."

Percy lay there, gasping for breath, utterly spent. His hair was a wild mess, his robes rumpled, and his face bright red. He managed to glare weakly up at them, though the effect was ruined by the hiccuping giggles that still escaped him in aftershocks.

"You two... are absolute maniacs," Percy collapsed onto the chair and began rubbing his feet into the carpet, trying to get rid of the feeling of the twin's fingers and lips on his feet. "Who does something like that?"
Fred flopped dramatically onto the couch, hands behind his head. "Visionaries, that’s who."

"Public servants," George added, leaning casually against the armrest. "We saw a brother in need of joy and provided it. Selflessly."

Percy shot them a look that could have curdled milk. "Selflessly?! You attacked me like a pair of deranged Kneazles!"

Fred grinned. "Deranged Kneazles who made you laugh. Admit it—deep down, you loved it."

Percy opened his mouth, ready to deliver a scathing retort—only for another stray giggle to bubble out, completely undermining his outrage. He snapped his jaw shut and glared at them both with renewed indignation.

George folded his arms and smirked. "That’s what we thought."

"You know, Perce," Fred added, winking, "you’re adorably ticklish. If I were you, I’d be very careful about leaving your shoes unattended in the future."

"Or your slippers," George chimed in helpfully.

Percy’s eyes widened in genuine horror. "You wouldn’t dare."

Fred gave him an innocent look. "Wouldn’t we?"

George pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and pretended to write. "Note to self: Percy—highly sensitive under toes, arches, and sides. Response level: catastrophic. Recommended tactics: sustained raspberries and underarm fluttering. Very effective."

"I hate you both," Percy muttered, sinking lower in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You say that now," Fred replied brightly, "but give it time. You’ll be writing us thank-you letters before the week's out."

George nodded solemnly. "Maybe even nominate us for Order of Merlin: First Class. Services to humor and sibling bonding."

At that moment, Ginny wandered in, raising an eyebrow at the scene: Percy looking like a thoroughly disheveled wreck, the twins beaming with smug satisfaction.

"What happened to him?" she asked.

Fred and George spoke in perfect unison. "Therapy."

Percy groaned and covered his face with both hands.

Ginny gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "You know, Perce... you really should laugh more often. It’s good for the soul."

From behind his hands, Percy’s muffled voice emerged. "If any of you ever breathe a word of this to Mum... I will personally see to it that you’re buried under ten years of Ministry paperwork."

Fred grinned. "Aw, come on, Perce. Who’d believe us? You? Laughing your socks off? That’s practically a bedtime story."

George added, "Besides, we’re your brothers. We’d never betray your trust."

Both twins immediately burst out laughing.

Percy sighed deeply, finally accepting his fate. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "You’re all insufferable."

Fred gave him a sly look. "True. But at least now, so are your feet."

George cackled. "Long live Saint Fred and Saint George."

And with that, the twins sauntered off in search of their next victim target, leaving a very rumpled, very red-faced, and slightly more lighthearted Percy muttering dark threats under his breath — and very pointedly keeping his feet tucked well under the chair.