Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Triwizard Tickling Tournament
With each new match, the tournament brought out unexpected talents and revealed vulnerabilities in even the toughest of students. But today, the stakes were higher than ever as two of Hogwarts’ most well-known students were set to face off: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
The buzz of excitement around the Quidditch pitch was louder than ever. Both Draco and Hermione were formidable in their own right, though for entirely different reasons. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin prince, was known for his arrogance, cunning, and knack for winning in any competition he entered. But Hermione Granger was equally respected—and feared. Her intelligence and quick-thinking had won her countless victories in academic settings, and while she wasn’t known for being physically aggressive, no one doubted she would bring that same strategic brilliance into the match.
The students filled the stands, eager to see how the contest would play out. Gryffindor and Slytherin were especially vocal, both houses keen to see their representative win. Ron, Harry, and Ginny sat in the Gryffindor section, all with looks of determined support on their faces, though Harry couldn’t help but feel a little anxious for Hermione. He knew her well, but this was different from the academic or magical duels she was used to. Draco, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, waving to the Slytherin section where Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were already calling out their support for him.
Professor Dumbledore stepped onto the field, his usual twinkle in his eyes. The headmaster had been particularly amused by this tournament, but he knew that today’s match was going to be intense.
“Welcome back, students and staff, to yet another thrilling match in our Triwizard Tickle Tournament! Today, we witness a clash between two of Hogwarts’ finest minds—on one side, we have Draco Malfoy, and on the other, the brilliant Hermione Granger!”
The crowd roared, the energy palpable as both Draco and Hermione stepped onto the pitch. Hermione, though clearly focused, gave a small smile to Harry and Ron, who were waving madly from the Gryffindor stands. Draco, of course, wore his usual smirk, nodding casually to his friends in the Slytherin section.
With a flick of his wand, a small firework shot into the sky, signaling the start of the match.
Hermione approached cautiously, her mind already working through possible strategies. She knew Draco was fast, and she also knew he had no qualms about using any advantage he could find. But she was ready for him—at least, she thought she was.
Draco wasted no time. He darted forward with surprising speed, aiming to catch Hermione off-guard. Hermione was quick, but not quick enough. Draco dropped low and swept her legs out from under her before she could react. The move was so fast and fluid that Hermione barely had time to process what had happened before she found herself on the ground, flat on her back.
Before she could scramble to her feet, Draco had already grabbed hold of her ankles. He twisted her legs, pulling them toward him and pinning them in place. Hermione gasped in surprise, her eyes wide as she realized she was now at Draco’s mercy.
“Didn’t expect that, did you, Granger?” Draco taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
Hermione struggled, but Draco’s grip was strong, and with her legs locked in place, she had no leverage to break free. Then, Draco’s fingers began to dance over her feet, lightly at first, but quickly increasing in intensity.
Hermione’s eyes widened even further, and before she could stop herself, a burst of laughter escaped her. The tickling on her feet was unbearable—her most sensitive spot—and Draco knew it. His fingers skittered across the soles of her feet, tracing along her arches and under her toes with cruel precision.
“Stop—stop!” Hermione gasped, but the laughter bubbled out of her uncontrollably. Her body jerked and writhed on the ground as she tried to pull her feet away, but Draco held her fast, his smirk growing wider with each second.
“Come on, Granger,” Draco sneered. “You’re the smartest witch of our age, aren’t you? Surely you can handle a little tickling.”
Hermione’s face flushed red as her laughter intensified. Draco’s fingers were relentless, moving from one foot to the other, never giving her a moment’s reprieve. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, it seemed like Draco had already won. Hermione’s chest heaved with laughter, her hands grasping at the grass beneath her as she fought to regain control.
But Hermione Granger was nothing if not resourceful.
Just when it seemed like Hermione was on the verge of surrender, she twisted her body sharply, using every ounce of strength she had. With a surge of adrenaline, she managed to wrench one of her ankles free from Draco’s grasp. Without wasting a second, she kicked out with her free leg, aiming directly at Draco’s chest.
The move caught Draco completely off-guard. The kick landed squarely against his ribs, knocking the air out of him with a grunt of surprise. He stumbled backward, losing his grip on Hermione’s other ankle as he tried to regain his balance.
Hermione didn’t waste the opportunity. With Draco momentarily stunned, she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground. Draco let out a startled yell as he hit the grass, and before he could recover, Hermione had him pinned beneath her.
“You thought you could win that easily, Malfoy?” Hermione panted, her voice filled with determination. “You’ve underestimated me.”
Hermione wasted no time in launching her own ticklish assault. Her fingers dug into Draco’s ribs and sides, working quickly and efficiently. She knew where to target—after all, she’d observed Draco long enough to understand that while he might put on a tough front, he was just as susceptible to tickling as anyone else.
Draco’s reaction was immediate. His body jerked beneath her, and a strangled laugh escaped his lips as Hermione’s fingers worked over his ribs. He tried to twist away, but Hermione had him firmly pinned, her knees pressed into his sides as her fingers moved with relentless speed.
“Granger—get off—ahh!” Draco gasped between bursts of laughter. His usual composure was rapidly crumbling as Hermione’s fingers danced over his sensitive spots. His ribs and sides were his weak points, and Hermione seemed to know exactly how to exploit them.
The crowd was in hysterics, watching as the usually smug and composed Draco Malfoy was reduced to helpless laughter beneath Hermione’s determined assault. Gryffindor students were cheering wildly, chanting Hermione’s name as she continued to tickle Draco without mercy.
Despite the laughter wracking his body, Draco managed to gather his strength. He knew he couldn’t let Hermione win—his pride wouldn’t allow it. With one last burst of energy, he threw his arms up and wrapped them around Hermione’s neck, pulling her down toward him.
The move caught Hermione off-guard, and before she could react, Draco twisted his body, using the momentum to roll them both over. Suddenly, their positions were reversed—Draco was now on top, and Hermione was pinned beneath him.
Hermione let out a gasp of surprise, but Draco wasn’t about to let her regain control. He quickly grabbed her wrists, stacking her hands on top of each other and pinning them above her head with one hand. With his other hand free, Draco launched his final ticklish attack, his fingers digging into Hermione’s ribs with ruthless precision.
Hermione’s laughter exploded from her in a loud, uncontrollable burst. Draco’s fingers were quick and merciless as they worked over her ribs, tickling her in the same spots she had just been attacking on him. The sensation was overwhelming, and Hermione’s body shook with laughter as she tried to break free from Draco’s grip.
“Draco—stop—hah!” Hermione gasped, her voice high-pitched with laughter. But Draco’s hand didn’t stop. His fingers skittered over her ribs, occasionally dipping down to her sides, eliciting even louder giggles from Hermione.
“I’ve got you now, Granger,” Draco said, his smirk back in full force as he kept her pinned beneath him. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”
Hermione’s legs kicked out, and she twisted beneath him, but Draco’s grip was firm, and with her hands pinned, she had no way to fight back. Her laughter grew louder, her face flushed with exertion as Draco’s fingers moved relentlessly over her ribs and sides.
The crowd watched in awe, the cheers growing louder as Draco maintained his control. Hermione, brilliant and determined though she was, was clearly nearing her limit. Her body trembled beneath Draco’s touch, and her laughter was breathless, bordering on hysterical.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ticklish torment, Hermione gasped, “Okay—I give up! I give up!”
At Hermione’s surrender, Draco immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant grin. He released her hands and stood up, brushing the grass off his robes as he looked down at Hermione, who was still catching her breath on the ground.
The crowd erupted into applause, cheering for Draco’s victory and Hermione’s valiant effort. Slytherin students were on their feet, chanting Draco’s name, while the Gryffindors, though disappointed, clapped respectfully for both competitors.
Up in the stands, Harry and Ron exchanged looks of disbelief.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Harry muttered, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Ron agreed, though he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride for how well Hermione had fought. “But she gave him a good fight.”
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward once more, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he raised his hands to quiet the crowd.
“And the winner of this match is Draco Malfoy!”
The buzz of excitement around the Quidditch pitch was louder than ever. Both Draco and Hermione were formidable in their own right, though for entirely different reasons. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin prince, was known for his arrogance, cunning, and knack for winning in any competition he entered. But Hermione Granger was equally respected—and feared. Her intelligence and quick-thinking had won her countless victories in academic settings, and while she wasn’t known for being physically aggressive, no one doubted she would bring that same strategic brilliance into the match.
The students filled the stands, eager to see how the contest would play out. Gryffindor and Slytherin were especially vocal, both houses keen to see their representative win. Ron, Harry, and Ginny sat in the Gryffindor section, all with looks of determined support on their faces, though Harry couldn’t help but feel a little anxious for Hermione. He knew her well, but this was different from the academic or magical duels she was used to. Draco, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, waving to the Slytherin section where Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were already calling out their support for him.
Professor Dumbledore stepped onto the field, his usual twinkle in his eyes. The headmaster had been particularly amused by this tournament, but he knew that today’s match was going to be intense.
“Welcome back, students and staff, to yet another thrilling match in our Triwizard Tickle Tournament! Today, we witness a clash between two of Hogwarts’ finest minds—on one side, we have Draco Malfoy, and on the other, the brilliant Hermione Granger!”
The crowd roared, the energy palpable as both Draco and Hermione stepped onto the pitch. Hermione, though clearly focused, gave a small smile to Harry and Ron, who were waving madly from the Gryffindor stands. Draco, of course, wore his usual smirk, nodding casually to his friends in the Slytherin section.
With a flick of his wand, a small firework shot into the sky, signaling the start of the match.
Hermione approached cautiously, her mind already working through possible strategies. She knew Draco was fast, and she also knew he had no qualms about using any advantage he could find. But she was ready for him—at least, she thought she was.
Draco wasted no time. He darted forward with surprising speed, aiming to catch Hermione off-guard. Hermione was quick, but not quick enough. Draco dropped low and swept her legs out from under her before she could react. The move was so fast and fluid that Hermione barely had time to process what had happened before she found herself on the ground, flat on her back.
Before she could scramble to her feet, Draco had already grabbed hold of her ankles. He twisted her legs, pulling them toward him and pinning them in place. Hermione gasped in surprise, her eyes wide as she realized she was now at Draco’s mercy.
“Didn’t expect that, did you, Granger?” Draco taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
Hermione struggled, but Draco’s grip was strong, and with her legs locked in place, she had no leverage to break free. Then, Draco’s fingers began to dance over her feet, lightly at first, but quickly increasing in intensity.
Hermione’s eyes widened even further, and before she could stop herself, a burst of laughter escaped her. The tickling on her feet was unbearable—her most sensitive spot—and Draco knew it. His fingers skittered across the soles of her feet, tracing along her arches and under her toes with cruel precision.
“Stop—stop!” Hermione gasped, but the laughter bubbled out of her uncontrollably. Her body jerked and writhed on the ground as she tried to pull her feet away, but Draco held her fast, his smirk growing wider with each second.
“Come on, Granger,” Draco sneered. “You’re the smartest witch of our age, aren’t you? Surely you can handle a little tickling.”
Hermione’s face flushed red as her laughter intensified. Draco’s fingers were relentless, moving from one foot to the other, never giving her a moment’s reprieve. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, it seemed like Draco had already won. Hermione’s chest heaved with laughter, her hands grasping at the grass beneath her as she fought to regain control.
But Hermione Granger was nothing if not resourceful.
Just when it seemed like Hermione was on the verge of surrender, she twisted her body sharply, using every ounce of strength she had. With a surge of adrenaline, she managed to wrench one of her ankles free from Draco’s grasp. Without wasting a second, she kicked out with her free leg, aiming directly at Draco’s chest.
The move caught Draco completely off-guard. The kick landed squarely against his ribs, knocking the air out of him with a grunt of surprise. He stumbled backward, losing his grip on Hermione’s other ankle as he tried to regain his balance.
Hermione didn’t waste the opportunity. With Draco momentarily stunned, she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground. Draco let out a startled yell as he hit the grass, and before he could recover, Hermione had him pinned beneath her.
“You thought you could win that easily, Malfoy?” Hermione panted, her voice filled with determination. “You’ve underestimated me.”
Hermione wasted no time in launching her own ticklish assault. Her fingers dug into Draco’s ribs and sides, working quickly and efficiently. She knew where to target—after all, she’d observed Draco long enough to understand that while he might put on a tough front, he was just as susceptible to tickling as anyone else.
Draco’s reaction was immediate. His body jerked beneath her, and a strangled laugh escaped his lips as Hermione’s fingers worked over his ribs. He tried to twist away, but Hermione had him firmly pinned, her knees pressed into his sides as her fingers moved with relentless speed.
“Granger—get off—ahh!” Draco gasped between bursts of laughter. His usual composure was rapidly crumbling as Hermione’s fingers danced over his sensitive spots. His ribs and sides were his weak points, and Hermione seemed to know exactly how to exploit them.
The crowd was in hysterics, watching as the usually smug and composed Draco Malfoy was reduced to helpless laughter beneath Hermione’s determined assault. Gryffindor students were cheering wildly, chanting Hermione’s name as she continued to tickle Draco without mercy.
Despite the laughter wracking his body, Draco managed to gather his strength. He knew he couldn’t let Hermione win—his pride wouldn’t allow it. With one last burst of energy, he threw his arms up and wrapped them around Hermione’s neck, pulling her down toward him.
The move caught Hermione off-guard, and before she could react, Draco twisted his body, using the momentum to roll them both over. Suddenly, their positions were reversed—Draco was now on top, and Hermione was pinned beneath him.
Hermione let out a gasp of surprise, but Draco wasn’t about to let her regain control. He quickly grabbed her wrists, stacking her hands on top of each other and pinning them above her head with one hand. With his other hand free, Draco launched his final ticklish attack, his fingers digging into Hermione’s ribs with ruthless precision.
Hermione’s laughter exploded from her in a loud, uncontrollable burst. Draco’s fingers were quick and merciless as they worked over her ribs, tickling her in the same spots she had just been attacking on him. The sensation was overwhelming, and Hermione’s body shook with laughter as she tried to break free from Draco’s grip.
“Draco—stop—hah!” Hermione gasped, her voice high-pitched with laughter. But Draco’s hand didn’t stop. His fingers skittered over her ribs, occasionally dipping down to her sides, eliciting even louder giggles from Hermione.
“I’ve got you now, Granger,” Draco said, his smirk back in full force as he kept her pinned beneath him. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”
Hermione’s legs kicked out, and she twisted beneath him, but Draco’s grip was firm, and with her hands pinned, she had no way to fight back. Her laughter grew louder, her face flushed with exertion as Draco’s fingers moved relentlessly over her ribs and sides.
The crowd watched in awe, the cheers growing louder as Draco maintained his control. Hermione, brilliant and determined though she was, was clearly nearing her limit. Her body trembled beneath Draco’s touch, and her laughter was breathless, bordering on hysterical.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ticklish torment, Hermione gasped, “Okay—I give up! I give up!”
At Hermione’s surrender, Draco immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant grin. He released her hands and stood up, brushing the grass off his robes as he looked down at Hermione, who was still catching her breath on the ground.
The crowd erupted into applause, cheering for Draco’s victory and Hermione’s valiant effort. Slytherin students were on their feet, chanting Draco’s name, while the Gryffindors, though disappointed, clapped respectfully for both competitors.
Up in the stands, Harry and Ron exchanged looks of disbelief.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Harry muttered, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Ron agreed, though he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride for how well Hermione had fought. “But she gave him a good fight.”
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward once more, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he raised his hands to quiet the crowd.
“And the winner of this match is Draco Malfoy!”
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