Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Triwizard Tickling Tournament
After the Weasley twins' electrifying battle, many were curious to see what new pairings would come next. The students were obsessed with the absurdity and charm of the event, eager for every twist and turn. And now, as the news spread across Hogwarts about the upcoming match, the students were buzzing with anticipation for a showdown between Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood.
For anyone unfamiliar with the two, the idea of them squaring off in such a contest might seem odd, but those who knew them well could only imagine what a spectacle this match would be. Percy Weasley, the rule-abiding, serious-minded, and often pompous older brother of the Weasley clan, was never the type to involve himself in such frivolous activities. He was all about propriety and structure.
Oliver Wood, on the other hand, was a fierce competitor. Known for his obsessive dedication to Quidditch, Oliver lived for competition. He had been Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain and was as relentless on the field as he was off it. Even though the Triwizard Tickle Tournament was far from a serious competition, Wood's competitive spirit would no doubt drive him to win, no matter the stakes.
Now, both were stepping onto the Quidditch pitch, prepared to engage in a battle of endurance, strategy, and—of course—laughter. Students filled the stands, eager to witness the clash between the two very different personalities. Gryffindor students waved banners for both Percy and Oliver, although many were unsure of how Percy would fare in such a lighthearted and unusual contest.
Up in the stands, Fred and George were already making bets on how quickly Percy would lose.
“Ten minutes tops,” Fred said with a mischievous grin.
George shook his head. “Nah, he’ll be too uptight to laugh that quickly. Five minutes.”
Ron, sitting next to them, rolled his eyes. “You’re both underestimating Percy. He’s been working at the Ministry—he’s probably immune to fun by now.”
Harry and Hermione chuckled at the banter as they eagerly waited for the match to begin. Below, the contestants were making their way to the center of the pitch.
Percy walked with his usual stiff posture, his head held high, looking as though he had mentally prepared himself for something far more serious than a tickle match. Oliver, meanwhile, jogged in place, his face already set in determined focus, his competitive nature clearly ready to kick in.
Professor Dumbledore, standing between them, raised his wand to quiet the crowd. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he addressed the students.
“Welcome, welcome, one and all, to another match in our increasingly delightful Triwizard Tickle Tournament! Today, we have two of Gryffindor’s finest—Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood!"
The crowd cheered wildly. Dumbledore continued, “Remember, the rules are simple: the first to surrender to uncontrollable laughter loses the match. Now, let the tickling begin!”
A quick flick of his wand, and with a small firework, the match was officially underway.
From the very start, Oliver Wood made his intentions clear. As soon as the signal was given, he charged at Percy with the same intensity he reserved for a Quidditch match. Percy, who hadn’t expected such a swift and aggressive start, barely had time to react before Oliver tackled him to the ground.
The crowd gasped, some bursting into laughter at the sight of Percy, known for his impeccable composure, being taken down so quickly. Oliver pinned Percy beneath him, his hands immediately darting for Percy’s ribs, fingers digging in with ruthless precision.
Percy’s eyes widened as the tickling began, and before he could stop himself, a surprised yelp of laughter escaped him. His body jerked under Oliver’s weight, twisting and turning as Oliver continued his relentless attack on Percy’s sides. Percy had never imagined being tickled could be so intense. He was used to control, order, and structure—this was the exact opposite.
"Come on, Perce!" Oliver said with a grin, his fingers working expertly over Percy’s ribs. “Where’s that composure now? I thought you liked staying in control.”
Percy sputtered, gasping between bursts of laughter. “O-Oliver! This is—” Another wave of laughter interrupted him as Oliver’s hands found another particularly ticklish spot near Percy’s waist. “N-not how you’re supposed to—ah!—play!”
“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine,” Oliver said, clearly enjoying himself as he leaned in, his hands darting over Percy’s sides, ribs, and belly, his fingers quick and relentless.
The crowd was in fits of laughter, watching as Percy, ever serious and proper, was reduced to helpless giggling on the ground. His face was already red, a mixture of embarrassment and exertion. He kicked his legs out, trying to shake Oliver off, but Oliver’s grip was strong, and he wasn’t about to let Percy go so easily.
It looked like Percy was in real trouble, and for a few moments, it seemed as though the match might be over before it really started. But Percy, to his credit, wasn’t ready to give up. He may not have been as physically strong or as competitive as Oliver, but he was clever—and cleverness had a place in even the most unconventional battles.
Through his laughter and wriggling, Percy managed to focus just long enough to hook his leg around Oliver’s. With a sudden burst of energy, he used the leverage to twist his body, pulling Oliver off balance. Oliver, caught by surprise, lost his grip on Percy’s ribs and tumbled to the side.
Before Oliver could recover, Percy was already moving. With a surprisingly quick maneuver, Percy rolled the two of them over, reversing their positions so that he was now on top. The crowd erupted into cheers, clearly delighted by Percy’s unexpected comeback.
Percy, still slightly out of breath, grinned down at Oliver. “You might be good at Quidditch, but I’m not as easily beaten as you think, Wood.”
With that, Percy sat firmly on Oliver’s back, trapping Oliver’s arms beneath him in a position that was both effective and efficient. Oliver struggled beneath him, but Percy had him pinned.
Percy wasted no time. His hands darted down to Oliver’s sides, fingers lightly grazing the soft skin just above Oliver’s waist. Oliver let out a loud bark of laughter, his body jerking instinctively.
"Ah—Percy! That’s—" Oliver gasped, but Percy’s fingers were relentless, working their way up and down Oliver’s sides with surprising precision.
Now it was Oliver’s turn to squirm helplessly. Despite his strength, he couldn’t dislodge Percy from his back, and with his arms pinned, he was completely vulnerable to Percy’s tickling assault.
Percy’s fingers moved quickly, dancing over Oliver’s ribs and sides, finding the most sensitive spots with ease. He had never imagined that tickling could be used so effectively, but in this moment, Percy realized the importance of detail and control. The smallest touch, the lightest flick of his fingers, sent Oliver into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
“Giving up yet?” Percy asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he continued his ticklish attack.
“Not—hah!—not yet!” Oliver managed to choke out between gasps of laughter. His body shook beneath Percy’s weight, and his attempts to buck Percy off grew weaker with each passing second.
Percy, enjoying his newfound control, leaned in slightly, increasing the intensity of his tickling. His fingers moved faster now, brushing over Oliver’s sides and ribs with relentless speed. He even ventured up toward Oliver’s underarms, eliciting a high-pitched squeal of laughter from the Quidditch captain.
The crowd was on its feet, watching with wide eyes as the usually stoic Percy Weasley displayed an unexpected talent for tickle torture. Gryffindor students cheered for both Percy and Oliver, but it was clear that Percy had the upper hand now.
Oliver was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face. He could barely breathe, and his body was shaking uncontrollably beneath Percy’s ticklish assault. No matter how hard he tried to throw Percy off, his strength was fading, and Percy’s grip remained firm.
“I—ahh!—I give up! Percy, I give up!” Oliver finally gasped, his voice breathless with laughter.
At Oliver’s surrender, Percy immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant smile. He stood up, offering a hand to Oliver, who took it gratefully, still chuckling as he wiped his face and tried to catch his breath.
The crowd erupted into wild applause, cheering both for Percy’s victory and Oliver’s valiant effort. Even the Gryffindor section, which had cheered so loudly for Oliver at the start, was now shouting Percy’s name with pride.
Up in the stands, Fred and George exchanged shocked looks.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Fred muttered.
George nodded. “Maybe we’ve underestimated Percy all these years.”
Ron, meanwhile, couldn’t help but laugh. “Percy! Winning a tickle fight? This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “And the winner of this delightful match is Percy Weasley!”
Percy, his usual stiff demeanor somewhat softened by the match, gave a small, satisfied smile and waved to the crowd. Oliver, ever the good sport, clapped Percy on the back and gave him a nod of respect.
“You’re tougher than I thought, Perce,” Oliver said with a grin. “I’ll get you next time.”
“We’ll see about that,” Percy replied, his confidence bolstered by his unexpected victory.
As the two walked off the pitch together, still laughing and chatting about the match, the crowd continued to cheer, already buzzing with excitement for the next round of the Triwizard Tickle Tournament.
For Percy Weasley, the match had been a surprising success. He had never thought himself a contender in such a ridiculous competition, but now, he found himself enjoying the camaraderie and lightheartedness that came with it. Perhaps, he thought, there was more to life than rules and regulations after all.
For anyone unfamiliar with the two, the idea of them squaring off in such a contest might seem odd, but those who knew them well could only imagine what a spectacle this match would be. Percy Weasley, the rule-abiding, serious-minded, and often pompous older brother of the Weasley clan, was never the type to involve himself in such frivolous activities. He was all about propriety and structure.
Oliver Wood, on the other hand, was a fierce competitor. Known for his obsessive dedication to Quidditch, Oliver lived for competition. He had been Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain and was as relentless on the field as he was off it. Even though the Triwizard Tickle Tournament was far from a serious competition, Wood's competitive spirit would no doubt drive him to win, no matter the stakes.
Now, both were stepping onto the Quidditch pitch, prepared to engage in a battle of endurance, strategy, and—of course—laughter. Students filled the stands, eager to witness the clash between the two very different personalities. Gryffindor students waved banners for both Percy and Oliver, although many were unsure of how Percy would fare in such a lighthearted and unusual contest.
Up in the stands, Fred and George were already making bets on how quickly Percy would lose.
“Ten minutes tops,” Fred said with a mischievous grin.
George shook his head. “Nah, he’ll be too uptight to laugh that quickly. Five minutes.”
Ron, sitting next to them, rolled his eyes. “You’re both underestimating Percy. He’s been working at the Ministry—he’s probably immune to fun by now.”
Harry and Hermione chuckled at the banter as they eagerly waited for the match to begin. Below, the contestants were making their way to the center of the pitch.
Percy walked with his usual stiff posture, his head held high, looking as though he had mentally prepared himself for something far more serious than a tickle match. Oliver, meanwhile, jogged in place, his face already set in determined focus, his competitive nature clearly ready to kick in.
Professor Dumbledore, standing between them, raised his wand to quiet the crowd. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he addressed the students.
“Welcome, welcome, one and all, to another match in our increasingly delightful Triwizard Tickle Tournament! Today, we have two of Gryffindor’s finest—Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood!"
The crowd cheered wildly. Dumbledore continued, “Remember, the rules are simple: the first to surrender to uncontrollable laughter loses the match. Now, let the tickling begin!”
A quick flick of his wand, and with a small firework, the match was officially underway.
From the very start, Oliver Wood made his intentions clear. As soon as the signal was given, he charged at Percy with the same intensity he reserved for a Quidditch match. Percy, who hadn’t expected such a swift and aggressive start, barely had time to react before Oliver tackled him to the ground.
The crowd gasped, some bursting into laughter at the sight of Percy, known for his impeccable composure, being taken down so quickly. Oliver pinned Percy beneath him, his hands immediately darting for Percy’s ribs, fingers digging in with ruthless precision.
Percy’s eyes widened as the tickling began, and before he could stop himself, a surprised yelp of laughter escaped him. His body jerked under Oliver’s weight, twisting and turning as Oliver continued his relentless attack on Percy’s sides. Percy had never imagined being tickled could be so intense. He was used to control, order, and structure—this was the exact opposite.
"Come on, Perce!" Oliver said with a grin, his fingers working expertly over Percy’s ribs. “Where’s that composure now? I thought you liked staying in control.”
Percy sputtered, gasping between bursts of laughter. “O-Oliver! This is—” Another wave of laughter interrupted him as Oliver’s hands found another particularly ticklish spot near Percy’s waist. “N-not how you’re supposed to—ah!—play!”
“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine,” Oliver said, clearly enjoying himself as he leaned in, his hands darting over Percy’s sides, ribs, and belly, his fingers quick and relentless.
The crowd was in fits of laughter, watching as Percy, ever serious and proper, was reduced to helpless giggling on the ground. His face was already red, a mixture of embarrassment and exertion. He kicked his legs out, trying to shake Oliver off, but Oliver’s grip was strong, and he wasn’t about to let Percy go so easily.
It looked like Percy was in real trouble, and for a few moments, it seemed as though the match might be over before it really started. But Percy, to his credit, wasn’t ready to give up. He may not have been as physically strong or as competitive as Oliver, but he was clever—and cleverness had a place in even the most unconventional battles.
Through his laughter and wriggling, Percy managed to focus just long enough to hook his leg around Oliver’s. With a sudden burst of energy, he used the leverage to twist his body, pulling Oliver off balance. Oliver, caught by surprise, lost his grip on Percy’s ribs and tumbled to the side.
Before Oliver could recover, Percy was already moving. With a surprisingly quick maneuver, Percy rolled the two of them over, reversing their positions so that he was now on top. The crowd erupted into cheers, clearly delighted by Percy’s unexpected comeback.
Percy, still slightly out of breath, grinned down at Oliver. “You might be good at Quidditch, but I’m not as easily beaten as you think, Wood.”
With that, Percy sat firmly on Oliver’s back, trapping Oliver’s arms beneath him in a position that was both effective and efficient. Oliver struggled beneath him, but Percy had him pinned.
Percy wasted no time. His hands darted down to Oliver’s sides, fingers lightly grazing the soft skin just above Oliver’s waist. Oliver let out a loud bark of laughter, his body jerking instinctively.
"Ah—Percy! That’s—" Oliver gasped, but Percy’s fingers were relentless, working their way up and down Oliver’s sides with surprising precision.
Now it was Oliver’s turn to squirm helplessly. Despite his strength, he couldn’t dislodge Percy from his back, and with his arms pinned, he was completely vulnerable to Percy’s tickling assault.
Percy’s fingers moved quickly, dancing over Oliver’s ribs and sides, finding the most sensitive spots with ease. He had never imagined that tickling could be used so effectively, but in this moment, Percy realized the importance of detail and control. The smallest touch, the lightest flick of his fingers, sent Oliver into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
“Giving up yet?” Percy asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he continued his ticklish attack.
“Not—hah!—not yet!” Oliver managed to choke out between gasps of laughter. His body shook beneath Percy’s weight, and his attempts to buck Percy off grew weaker with each passing second.
Percy, enjoying his newfound control, leaned in slightly, increasing the intensity of his tickling. His fingers moved faster now, brushing over Oliver’s sides and ribs with relentless speed. He even ventured up toward Oliver’s underarms, eliciting a high-pitched squeal of laughter from the Quidditch captain.
The crowd was on its feet, watching with wide eyes as the usually stoic Percy Weasley displayed an unexpected talent for tickle torture. Gryffindor students cheered for both Percy and Oliver, but it was clear that Percy had the upper hand now.
Oliver was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face. He could barely breathe, and his body was shaking uncontrollably beneath Percy’s ticklish assault. No matter how hard he tried to throw Percy off, his strength was fading, and Percy’s grip remained firm.
“I—ahh!—I give up! Percy, I give up!” Oliver finally gasped, his voice breathless with laughter.
At Oliver’s surrender, Percy immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant smile. He stood up, offering a hand to Oliver, who took it gratefully, still chuckling as he wiped his face and tried to catch his breath.
The crowd erupted into wild applause, cheering both for Percy’s victory and Oliver’s valiant effort. Even the Gryffindor section, which had cheered so loudly for Oliver at the start, was now shouting Percy’s name with pride.
Up in the stands, Fred and George exchanged shocked looks.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Fred muttered.
George nodded. “Maybe we’ve underestimated Percy all these years.”
Ron, meanwhile, couldn’t help but laugh. “Percy! Winning a tickle fight? This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “And the winner of this delightful match is Percy Weasley!”
Percy, his usual stiff demeanor somewhat softened by the match, gave a small, satisfied smile and waved to the crowd. Oliver, ever the good sport, clapped Percy on the back and gave him a nod of respect.
“You’re tougher than I thought, Perce,” Oliver said with a grin. “I’ll get you next time.”
“We’ll see about that,” Percy replied, his confidence bolstered by his unexpected victory.
As the two walked off the pitch together, still laughing and chatting about the match, the crowd continued to cheer, already buzzing with excitement for the next round of the Triwizard Tickle Tournament.
For Percy Weasley, the match had been a surprising success. He had never thought himself a contender in such a ridiculous competition, but now, he found himself enjoying the camaraderie and lightheartedness that came with it. Perhaps, he thought, there was more to life than rules and regulations after all.
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