Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Triwizard Tickling Tournament
The Triwizard Tickle Tournament had taken Hogwarts by storm, and the quarterfinal match between Fred Weasley and Percy Weasley was one of the most highly anticipated events yet. The sibling rivalry between Fred and Percy was well-known throughout the school, though it had always been good-natured—mostly. Percy, the rule-abiding, serious-minded prefect-turned-Ministry-employee, had little patience for Fred’s antics. Fred, the prankster, loved nothing more than teasing his older brother and challenging his rigid sense of order.
Now, however, the brothers would be facing off in an entirely different arena. The Triwizard Tickle Tournament had proven to be both unpredictable and surprisingly intense, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Fred had the upper hand going into this match. He was known for his mischievousness and creativity, and many believed he would thrive in this competition. Percy, on the other hand, was the epitome of seriousness—a trait that wasn’t exactly suited for a tickling contest. But Percy was determined to show his brothers, and the rest of Hogwarts, that he wasn’t to be underestimated.
As the crowd gathered around the Quidditch pitch, the excitement was palpable. Gryffindor house, in particular, was buzzing with energy. Fred and Percy’s siblings, including Ron, George, and Ginny, were seated together, their faces alight with anticipation.
“This is going to be priceless,” George said, grinning as he leaned back in his seat. “Percy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Ron laughed. “He’s way too stiff for something like this. Fred’s going to wipe the floor with him.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hermione said thoughtfully, though even she seemed amused by the match-up. “Percy’s smart, and he’s not as easily flustered as you think.”
George waved a hand dismissively. “Flustered or not, there’s no way Percy’s getting out of this one unscathed.”
Harry chuckled from beside Ron. “This should be interesting, at least.”
Down on the field, Fred and Percy stood across from each other, both wearing expressions that were perfectly suited to their personalities. Fred, with his usual cocky grin, waved to the crowd, already basking in the excitement of the moment. Percy, in contrast, looked decidedly more serious, his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepared himself for what he likely saw as an undignified ordeal.
“Ready, Perce?” Fred called out, his voice full of teasing energy. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
Percy straightened his shoulders and adjusted his glasses, his expression stony. “Just try to keep it civil, Fred. This is still a tournament, not one of your ridiculous pranks.”
Fred’s grin widened. “Whatever you say, big brother.”
Professor Dumbledore, standing between the two competitors, raised his hand to quiet the crowd. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he prepared to officiate the match.
“Welcome, students and staff, to yet another quarterfinal match in the Triwizard Tickle Tournament!” Dumbledore’s voice echoed across the pitch, and the crowd erupted into cheers. “Today, we have two formidable Weasleys facing off—Fred Weasley and Percy Weasley!"
With a flick of his wand, a small firework shot into the sky, signaling the start of the match.
Fred wasted no time. As soon as Dumbledore’s signal was given, he darted forward with the kind of speed and enthusiasm that had earned him a reputation as one of the most unpredictable members of the Weasley family. Percy, caught off guard by Fred’s quickness, barely had time to react before Fred was upon him.
“Come on, Perce!” Fred shouted gleefully as he tackled Percy to the ground. Percy let out a startled grunt as Fred’s weight bore down on him, and before he could do much to defend himself, Fred had already begun his ticklish assault.
Fred’s fingers found Percy’s ribs immediately, pressing into the sensitive spots with merciless precision. Percy’s eyes widened in surprise, and despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, a loud burst of laughter escaped him.
“Fred! Stop—this is—ahh!” Percy gasped, his voice breaking into helpless giggles as Fred’s fingers danced over his ribs, tickling him with ruthless efficiency.
The crowd roared with laughter, watching as Percy, ever the serious-minded prefect, was reduced to squirming on the ground beneath Fred’s relentless tickling. His normally composed demeanor had completely crumbled, and it was clear that Fred had taken full control of the match.
“Ticklish, are we, Percy?” Fred teased, his grin widening as he dug his fingers deeper into Percy’s sides, causing his older brother to thrash beneath him. “I always knew you were hiding something under that stuffy attitude.”
Percy tried to push Fred away, but Fred was too quick. Every time Percy shifted, Fred’s hands found a new ticklish spot, his fingers moving up and down Percy’s ribs with surprising agility. Percy’s face was flushed, and his laughter grew louder and more desperate with each passing second.
“This—this is absurd!” Percy managed to choke out between fits of laughter. His arms flailed as he tried to grab Fred’s wrists, but his attempts were weak, and Fred easily evaded him. “Fred—you—stop!”
But Fred wasn’t about to let up. He leaned in closer, his fingers never pausing in their tickling assault. “Oh no, Perce, we’re just getting started.”
For several minutes, it seemed like Percy had no chance of escaping Fred’s grasp. Fred’s fingers continued their relentless attack on his ribs and sides, and Percy’s body shook with uncontrollable laughter as he tried, in vain, to push Fred off. His usual calm, collected demeanor was completely gone, replaced by a mixture of helplessness and frustration.
Fred, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. His grin never left his face as he watched his older brother squirm and laugh beneath him. He knew exactly how to press Percy’s buttons—both literally and figuratively—and he wasn’t about to stop now.
“You know, Percy,” Fred said, his voice mockingly thoughtful as he tickled Percy’s sides, “I always wondered if you had a sense of humor in there somewhere. Turns out, all I had to do was tickle it out of you.”
Percy’s laughter became more frantic as Fred’s fingers moved to his waist, tickling the sensitive area just above his hips. He kicked out with his legs, trying to dislodge Fred, but his strength was quickly fading, and Fred was too skilled at keeping him pinned down.
The crowd, especially the Gryffindors, was in hysterics. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were laughing along with the rest of them, though even Ron couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Percy. His older brother looked utterly defeated, his face red and his laughter uncontrollable.
But Fred wasn’t done yet.
With Percy clearly weakened from the relentless tickling, Fred decided to switch tactics. Grinning mischievously, he placed his hands on Percy's shoulders and rolled Percy over onto his stomach, pinning him face-down on the grass. Percy let out a groan of protest, but he was too winded from laughter to put up much of a fight.
“Don’t worry, Perce,” Fred said, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. “We’re almost done here. I just need to finish you off properly.”
With Percy now lying on his stomach, Fred moved down to straddle Percy's lower legs, facing his ankles and reached out to grab Percy's ankles, pulling his legs up slightly so that Percy’s feet were facing upwards. Percy’s eyes widened in alarm, and he twisted his head to look back at Fred.
“Fred—don’t you dare—” Percy began, but his warning was cut off by a fresh burst of laughter as Fred’s fingers began to tickle the soles of his feet.
Fred’s fingers moved quickly and mercilessly over Percy’s feet, tracing along the arches and brushing lightly against his toes. Percy’s reaction was immediate. He let out a loud, desperate laugh, his body shaking with renewed force as the tickling overwhelmed him.
“Fred! Stop! I can’t—take it—anymore!” Percy gasped, his voice broken by uncontrollable laughter. His feet twitched and kicked as Fred’s fingers tickled the sensitive spots, but there was no escape. Fred had him completely pinned, and the tickling was too intense for Percy to handle.
The crowd was roaring with laughter and cheers as they watched Percy’s helpless struggle. Even the Slytherins, who had little love for the Weasleys, couldn’t help but be entertained by the spectacle.
Fred, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, come on, Perce! You can last a little longer than this, can’t you?”
Percy was at his limit. His body shook with laughter, his face was flushed, and his attempts to escape were growing weaker by the second. Fred’s fingers moved relentlessly over his feet, and Percy could barely catch his breath as the laughter consumed him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ticklish torment, Percy gasped, “I give up! I give up!”
At Percy’s surrender, Fred immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant grin. He released Percy’s ankles and stood up, dusting off his robes as he looked down at his older brother, who was still lying on the ground, gasping for breath and trying to recover from the tickling.
The crowd erupted into wild applause, cheering for Fred’s victory. Gryffindor students were on their feet, shouting Fred’s name, while even the other houses clapped and cheered for the entertaining match.
Up in the stands, George shook his head, grinning. “I told you Percy didn’t stand a chance.”
Ron, still laughing, nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be that one-sided.” Percy had litarlly gotten zero offense in.
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he addressed the students.
“And the winner of this match is Fred Weasley!”
Fred, still grinning, extended a hand to Percy, who accepted it with a resigned sigh. Fred pulled him to his feet, clapping him on the back.
“You fought well, Perce,” Fred said, still teasing. “But you really need to loosen up.”
Percy gave him a look of mock annoyance but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’ll remember this, Fred.”
As the two brothers walked off the field together, still exchanging playful banter, the crowd continued to cheer, already buzzing with excitement for the next round of the Triwizard Tickle Tournament.
For now, Fred Weasley had emerged victorious, but Percy’s determination and good humor in the face of his brother’s relentless tickling had earned him a new level of respect from those who had watched.
Fred had expected to feel pleased with himself after beating Percy.
He hadn’t expected to feel quite this pleased.
By the time he reached the Gryffindor stands, the applause had died down into excited chatter, but Fred was still wearing the enormous grin he’d had since Percy surrendered. He bounded up the steps toward his family and friends as though he’d just won the Quidditch Cup single-handedly.
George was waiting for him.
The twins looked at each other.
Then George slowly began applauding.
“Magnificent,” he said solemnly.
Fred bowed.
“Thank you.”
“Brutal.”
“Thank you.”
“Completely unnecessary.”
“Thank you.”
George finally broke into a grin. “Percy didn’t even touch you.”
That was apparently the comment Fred had been waiting for.
“Exactly!” Fred exclaimed, throwing himself into the empty seat beside George. “Not once. Not so much as a finger.”
Ron was still laughing.
“He literally got zero offense in.”
“Zero,” Fred agreed proudly.
Hermione shook her head. “You seem unusually pleased about that.”
“Unusually?” Harry asked.
“Fair point.”
Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked back toward the pitch. Percy was still down there talking to Dumbledore, trying very hard to recover whatever remained of his dignity.
His hair was disheveled.
His robes were covered in grass.
His glasses were slightly crooked.
Fred looked delighted.
“You know what the best part was?” he asked.
George immediately answered, “The feet.”
“The feet,” Fred confirmed.
Ron groaned with laughter.
Ginny leaned around George. “You looked like you’d discovered buried treasure.”
“I practically had.”
Hermione gave Fred a suspicious look. “You already knew Percy was ticklish.”
Fred put a hand against his chest.
“Hermione, I am deeply offended.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did.”
George frowned. “Wait. You knew about the feet?”
Fred’s grin became positively wicked.
“I had suspicions.”
“You never told me.”
“I needed to preserve the element of surprise.”
George stared at him.
“Against Percy?”
“Especially against Percy.”
Harry laughed. “How did you even know?”
Fred glanced toward the field again.
“Christmas, 1991.”
Everyone stared at him.
Fred continued as though reciting an important historical event.
“The Burrow. Sitting room. Approximately four in the afternoon. Percy was reading Prefects Who Changed History.”
Ron blinked. “You remember that?”
“I remember important things.”
“You don't remember Mum's birthday.”
“Different category of important.”
Ginny covered her mouth, already laughing.
Fred continued.
“Anyway, George accidentally brushed Percy's foot while crawling underneath the sofa looking for a Dungbomb.”
George nodded thoughtfully.
“That does sound like me.”
“Percy nearly kicked the bookcase over.”
George’s eyes widened as the memory returned.
“Oh!”
“Exactly.”
“You remembered that for five years?”
Fred looked almost offended by the question.
“George, information is a weapon.”
Hermione sighed. “That's an alarming philosophy.”
“It just won me a tournament match.”
That was difficult to argue with.
A few minutes later, Percy finally appeared at the bottom of the stands.
Fred noticed immediately.
“Oh, look.”
Percy climbed toward them with as much dignity as a person could reasonably maintain after spending several minutes laughing helplessly in front of most of Hogwarts.
Fred stood.
Percy stopped.
The brothers stared at each other.
Fred's expression was innocent.
Percy's was deeply suspicious.
“Percival.”
“Fred.”
“Excellent match.”
Percy narrowed his eyes.
Fred extended his hand.
For several seconds, Percy merely stared at it.
“You expect me to shake your hand?”
“Sportsmanship.”
“You tackled me approximately two seconds after Professor Dumbledore signaled the beginning of the match.”
“Efficient sportsmanship.”
“You pinned me to the ground.”
“Competitive sportsmanship.”
“You then spent the remainder of the match humiliating me in front of the entire school.”
Fred considered this.
“Enthusiastic sportsmanship.”
George snorted.
Percy closed his eyes.
He inhaled slowly.
Then he shook Fred’s hand.
Fred immediately grinned.
Percy's eyes snapped open.
“Don't.”
“I didn't do anything.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I can't be held responsible for my thoughts.”
“You usually shouldn't be trusted with those either,” Ginny said.
Fred looked wounded.
Percy tried to pull his hand away.
Fred released it.
“There,” Fred said. “No tricks.”
Percy looked genuinely surprised.
Fred gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“Besides, you've suffered enough.”
Percy stared at him.
“Have I?”
Fred lasted perhaps two seconds.
“For today.”
“Fred.”
George burst out laughing.
Percy pointed a warning finger at both twins. “This does not leave Hogwarts.”
Fred and George exchanged a glance.
Percy immediately realized his mistake.
“No.”
Neither twin spoke.
“I mean it.”
Still nothing.
“Fred.”
Fred's mouth twitched.
“George.”
George suddenly became fascinated by the sky.
Percy's expression grew increasingly horrified.
“You are not telling Mum.”
Fred finally broke.
“Percy, the entire school just watched you surrender because someone tickled your feet.”
“I am aware!”
“I think Mum deserves to know.”
“She absolutely does not.”
Ron was laughing again.
Fred slipped an arm around Percy's shoulders.
Percy stiffened.
“Relax,” Fred said.
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you're preparing to arrest someone.”
“I work at the Ministry. I know people.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It is becoming one.”
Fred laughed and released him.
For all his teasing, though, there was something different in the way he looked at Percy now. The match had been absurd, but Percy hadn't stormed away afterward. He hadn't complained to Dumbledore or insisted the whole tournament was beneath him.
He'd taken the loss.
More importantly, he'd shaken Fred's hand afterward.
Fred could respect that.
He wasn't going to say so plainly, of course.
That would be horrifying.
Instead, as Percy sat down beside Ginny, Fred dropped into the seat behind him and leaned toward George.
“I'll give him this,” Fred whispered.
George glanced over.
“He lasted longer than I expected.”
Percy turned around.
“I heard that.”
Fred smiled.
“Good.”
Percy adjusted his glasses.
“And for your information, I intend to study today's match carefully.”
Fred raised an eyebrow.
“Study it?”
“Yes.”
Percy's familiar air of seriousness had returned.
“You rely heavily on speed and surprise. Your actual defensive technique remains largely untested.”
Fred's smile faded slightly.
George's grew.
Percy continued.
“You also became overconfident once you had control of the match.”
Fred stared at him.
Ron stopped laughing.
Hermione suddenly looked interested.
Percy straightened his robes.
“If we were to have a rematch, I would approach matters differently.”
There was a brief silence.
Then George slowly turned toward Fred.
“Oh, this is interesting.”
Fred's competitive grin returned.
“A rematch?”
“Hypothetically.”
“No, no, Percy. You can't say something like that and hide behind ‘hypothetically.’”
“I can and I just did.”
Fred leaned forward.
“Tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
“After dinner.”
“Fred.”
“Right now.”
Percy stood.
“I have absolutely no intention of allowing you to tackle me onto that field again.”
Fred pointed triumphantly at him.
“Scared.”
“I am not scared.”
“Sounds scared.”
“Fred, I am twenty years old.”
“Scared twenty-year-old.”
Percy's ears went red.
George whispered, “He's got you there.”
Percy turned on him.
“You stay out of this.”
George raised both hands.
“I'm merely an observer.”
“You are never merely an observer.”
Fred was grinning again.
There it was.
The familiar Percy.
Indignant. Proper. Easily annoyed.
And, Fred now knew beyond any possible doubt, extremely ticklish.
Percy seemed to realize what Fred was thinking.
His expression darkened.
“Don't.”
Fred raised his hands innocently.
“Didn't say anything.”
“You didn't have to.”
Percy started walking away.
Fred called after him.
“Good match, Perce!”
Percy kept walking.
“And don't worry!”
Percy's shoulders tensed.
Fred cupped his hands around his mouth.
“I WON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE FEET!”
Half the nearby Gryffindors immediately started laughing.
Percy stopped dead.
Very slowly, he turned around.
Fred was already running.
“FRED WEASLEY!”
Fred tore down the steps, laughing as Percy charged after him.
George jumped to his feet.
“Oh, this is even better than the match.”
Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione crowded toward the railing as Fred sprinted across the edge of the Quidditch pitch with Percy pursuing him.
“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!”
“I SAID I WOULDN'T TELL MUM!”
“THAT IS NOT BETTER!”
Fred glanced over his shoulder.
Percy was gaining.
That was unexpected.
Fred's grin widened.
Perhaps, he thought, he'd underestimated Percy after all.
Not during the match, obviously.
That had been a massacre.
But maybe afterward.
And as Fred sprinted across the grounds with Percy shouting behind him and half of Gryffindor cheering them on, he decided that defeating his older brother was certainly satisfying.
Getting Percy to chase him afterward?
That was the real victory.
Now, however, the brothers would be facing off in an entirely different arena. The Triwizard Tickle Tournament had proven to be both unpredictable and surprisingly intense, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Fred had the upper hand going into this match. He was known for his mischievousness and creativity, and many believed he would thrive in this competition. Percy, on the other hand, was the epitome of seriousness—a trait that wasn’t exactly suited for a tickling contest. But Percy was determined to show his brothers, and the rest of Hogwarts, that he wasn’t to be underestimated.
As the crowd gathered around the Quidditch pitch, the excitement was palpable. Gryffindor house, in particular, was buzzing with energy. Fred and Percy’s siblings, including Ron, George, and Ginny, were seated together, their faces alight with anticipation.
“This is going to be priceless,” George said, grinning as he leaned back in his seat. “Percy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Ron laughed. “He’s way too stiff for something like this. Fred’s going to wipe the floor with him.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hermione said thoughtfully, though even she seemed amused by the match-up. “Percy’s smart, and he’s not as easily flustered as you think.”
George waved a hand dismissively. “Flustered or not, there’s no way Percy’s getting out of this one unscathed.”
Harry chuckled from beside Ron. “This should be interesting, at least.”
Down on the field, Fred and Percy stood across from each other, both wearing expressions that were perfectly suited to their personalities. Fred, with his usual cocky grin, waved to the crowd, already basking in the excitement of the moment. Percy, in contrast, looked decidedly more serious, his brows furrowed in concentration as he prepared himself for what he likely saw as an undignified ordeal.
“Ready, Perce?” Fred called out, his voice full of teasing energy. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
Percy straightened his shoulders and adjusted his glasses, his expression stony. “Just try to keep it civil, Fred. This is still a tournament, not one of your ridiculous pranks.”
Fred’s grin widened. “Whatever you say, big brother.”
Professor Dumbledore, standing between the two competitors, raised his hand to quiet the crowd. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he prepared to officiate the match.
“Welcome, students and staff, to yet another quarterfinal match in the Triwizard Tickle Tournament!” Dumbledore’s voice echoed across the pitch, and the crowd erupted into cheers. “Today, we have two formidable Weasleys facing off—Fred Weasley and Percy Weasley!"
With a flick of his wand, a small firework shot into the sky, signaling the start of the match.
Fred wasted no time. As soon as Dumbledore’s signal was given, he darted forward with the kind of speed and enthusiasm that had earned him a reputation as one of the most unpredictable members of the Weasley family. Percy, caught off guard by Fred’s quickness, barely had time to react before Fred was upon him.
“Come on, Perce!” Fred shouted gleefully as he tackled Percy to the ground. Percy let out a startled grunt as Fred’s weight bore down on him, and before he could do much to defend himself, Fred had already begun his ticklish assault.
Fred’s fingers found Percy’s ribs immediately, pressing into the sensitive spots with merciless precision. Percy’s eyes widened in surprise, and despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, a loud burst of laughter escaped him.
“Fred! Stop—this is—ahh!” Percy gasped, his voice breaking into helpless giggles as Fred’s fingers danced over his ribs, tickling him with ruthless efficiency.
The crowd roared with laughter, watching as Percy, ever the serious-minded prefect, was reduced to squirming on the ground beneath Fred’s relentless tickling. His normally composed demeanor had completely crumbled, and it was clear that Fred had taken full control of the match.
“Ticklish, are we, Percy?” Fred teased, his grin widening as he dug his fingers deeper into Percy’s sides, causing his older brother to thrash beneath him. “I always knew you were hiding something under that stuffy attitude.”
Percy tried to push Fred away, but Fred was too quick. Every time Percy shifted, Fred’s hands found a new ticklish spot, his fingers moving up and down Percy’s ribs with surprising agility. Percy’s face was flushed, and his laughter grew louder and more desperate with each passing second.
“This—this is absurd!” Percy managed to choke out between fits of laughter. His arms flailed as he tried to grab Fred’s wrists, but his attempts were weak, and Fred easily evaded him. “Fred—you—stop!”
But Fred wasn’t about to let up. He leaned in closer, his fingers never pausing in their tickling assault. “Oh no, Perce, we’re just getting started.”
For several minutes, it seemed like Percy had no chance of escaping Fred’s grasp. Fred’s fingers continued their relentless attack on his ribs and sides, and Percy’s body shook with uncontrollable laughter as he tried, in vain, to push Fred off. His usual calm, collected demeanor was completely gone, replaced by a mixture of helplessness and frustration.
Fred, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. His grin never left his face as he watched his older brother squirm and laugh beneath him. He knew exactly how to press Percy’s buttons—both literally and figuratively—and he wasn’t about to stop now.
“You know, Percy,” Fred said, his voice mockingly thoughtful as he tickled Percy’s sides, “I always wondered if you had a sense of humor in there somewhere. Turns out, all I had to do was tickle it out of you.”
Percy’s laughter became more frantic as Fred’s fingers moved to his waist, tickling the sensitive area just above his hips. He kicked out with his legs, trying to dislodge Fred, but his strength was quickly fading, and Fred was too skilled at keeping him pinned down.
The crowd, especially the Gryffindors, was in hysterics. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were laughing along with the rest of them, though even Ron couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Percy. His older brother looked utterly defeated, his face red and his laughter uncontrollable.
But Fred wasn’t done yet.
With Percy clearly weakened from the relentless tickling, Fred decided to switch tactics. Grinning mischievously, he placed his hands on Percy's shoulders and rolled Percy over onto his stomach, pinning him face-down on the grass. Percy let out a groan of protest, but he was too winded from laughter to put up much of a fight.
“Don’t worry, Perce,” Fred said, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. “We’re almost done here. I just need to finish you off properly.”
With Percy now lying on his stomach, Fred moved down to straddle Percy's lower legs, facing his ankles and reached out to grab Percy's ankles, pulling his legs up slightly so that Percy’s feet were facing upwards. Percy’s eyes widened in alarm, and he twisted his head to look back at Fred.
“Fred—don’t you dare—” Percy began, but his warning was cut off by a fresh burst of laughter as Fred’s fingers began to tickle the soles of his feet.
Fred’s fingers moved quickly and mercilessly over Percy’s feet, tracing along the arches and brushing lightly against his toes. Percy’s reaction was immediate. He let out a loud, desperate laugh, his body shaking with renewed force as the tickling overwhelmed him.
“Fred! Stop! I can’t—take it—anymore!” Percy gasped, his voice broken by uncontrollable laughter. His feet twitched and kicked as Fred’s fingers tickled the sensitive spots, but there was no escape. Fred had him completely pinned, and the tickling was too intense for Percy to handle.
The crowd was roaring with laughter and cheers as they watched Percy’s helpless struggle. Even the Slytherins, who had little love for the Weasleys, couldn’t help but be entertained by the spectacle.
Fred, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, come on, Perce! You can last a little longer than this, can’t you?”
Percy was at his limit. His body shook with laughter, his face was flushed, and his attempts to escape were growing weaker by the second. Fred’s fingers moved relentlessly over his feet, and Percy could barely catch his breath as the laughter consumed him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ticklish torment, Percy gasped, “I give up! I give up!”
At Percy’s surrender, Fred immediately stopped, sitting back with a triumphant grin. He released Percy’s ankles and stood up, dusting off his robes as he looked down at his older brother, who was still lying on the ground, gasping for breath and trying to recover from the tickling.
The crowd erupted into wild applause, cheering for Fred’s victory. Gryffindor students were on their feet, shouting Fred’s name, while even the other houses clapped and cheered for the entertaining match.
Up in the stands, George shook his head, grinning. “I told you Percy didn’t stand a chance.”
Ron, still laughing, nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be that one-sided.” Percy had litarlly gotten zero offense in.
Back on the field, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he addressed the students.
“And the winner of this match is Fred Weasley!”
Fred, still grinning, extended a hand to Percy, who accepted it with a resigned sigh. Fred pulled him to his feet, clapping him on the back.
“You fought well, Perce,” Fred said, still teasing. “But you really need to loosen up.”
Percy gave him a look of mock annoyance but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’ll remember this, Fred.”
As the two brothers walked off the field together, still exchanging playful banter, the crowd continued to cheer, already buzzing with excitement for the next round of the Triwizard Tickle Tournament.
For now, Fred Weasley had emerged victorious, but Percy’s determination and good humor in the face of his brother’s relentless tickling had earned him a new level of respect from those who had watched.
Fred had expected to feel pleased with himself after beating Percy.
He hadn’t expected to feel quite this pleased.
By the time he reached the Gryffindor stands, the applause had died down into excited chatter, but Fred was still wearing the enormous grin he’d had since Percy surrendered. He bounded up the steps toward his family and friends as though he’d just won the Quidditch Cup single-handedly.
George was waiting for him.
The twins looked at each other.
Then George slowly began applauding.
“Magnificent,” he said solemnly.
Fred bowed.
“Thank you.”
“Brutal.”
“Thank you.”
“Completely unnecessary.”
“Thank you.”
George finally broke into a grin. “Percy didn’t even touch you.”
That was apparently the comment Fred had been waiting for.
“Exactly!” Fred exclaimed, throwing himself into the empty seat beside George. “Not once. Not so much as a finger.”
Ron was still laughing.
“He literally got zero offense in.”
“Zero,” Fred agreed proudly.
Hermione shook her head. “You seem unusually pleased about that.”
“Unusually?” Harry asked.
“Fair point.”
Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked back toward the pitch. Percy was still down there talking to Dumbledore, trying very hard to recover whatever remained of his dignity.
His hair was disheveled.
His robes were covered in grass.
His glasses were slightly crooked.
Fred looked delighted.
“You know what the best part was?” he asked.
George immediately answered, “The feet.”
“The feet,” Fred confirmed.
Ron groaned with laughter.
Ginny leaned around George. “You looked like you’d discovered buried treasure.”
“I practically had.”
Hermione gave Fred a suspicious look. “You already knew Percy was ticklish.”
Fred put a hand against his chest.
“Hermione, I am deeply offended.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did.”
George frowned. “Wait. You knew about the feet?”
Fred’s grin became positively wicked.
“I had suspicions.”
“You never told me.”
“I needed to preserve the element of surprise.”
George stared at him.
“Against Percy?”
“Especially against Percy.”
Harry laughed. “How did you even know?”
Fred glanced toward the field again.
“Christmas, 1991.”
Everyone stared at him.
Fred continued as though reciting an important historical event.
“The Burrow. Sitting room. Approximately four in the afternoon. Percy was reading Prefects Who Changed History.”
Ron blinked. “You remember that?”
“I remember important things.”
“You don't remember Mum's birthday.”
“Different category of important.”
Ginny covered her mouth, already laughing.
Fred continued.
“Anyway, George accidentally brushed Percy's foot while crawling underneath the sofa looking for a Dungbomb.”
George nodded thoughtfully.
“That does sound like me.”
“Percy nearly kicked the bookcase over.”
George’s eyes widened as the memory returned.
“Oh!”
“Exactly.”
“You remembered that for five years?”
Fred looked almost offended by the question.
“George, information is a weapon.”
Hermione sighed. “That's an alarming philosophy.”
“It just won me a tournament match.”
That was difficult to argue with.
A few minutes later, Percy finally appeared at the bottom of the stands.
Fred noticed immediately.
“Oh, look.”
Percy climbed toward them with as much dignity as a person could reasonably maintain after spending several minutes laughing helplessly in front of most of Hogwarts.
Fred stood.
Percy stopped.
The brothers stared at each other.
Fred's expression was innocent.
Percy's was deeply suspicious.
“Percival.”
“Fred.”
“Excellent match.”
Percy narrowed his eyes.
Fred extended his hand.
For several seconds, Percy merely stared at it.
“You expect me to shake your hand?”
“Sportsmanship.”
“You tackled me approximately two seconds after Professor Dumbledore signaled the beginning of the match.”
“Efficient sportsmanship.”
“You pinned me to the ground.”
“Competitive sportsmanship.”
“You then spent the remainder of the match humiliating me in front of the entire school.”
Fred considered this.
“Enthusiastic sportsmanship.”
George snorted.
Percy closed his eyes.
He inhaled slowly.
Then he shook Fred’s hand.
Fred immediately grinned.
Percy's eyes snapped open.
“Don't.”
“I didn't do anything.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I can't be held responsible for my thoughts.”
“You usually shouldn't be trusted with those either,” Ginny said.
Fred looked wounded.
Percy tried to pull his hand away.
Fred released it.
“There,” Fred said. “No tricks.”
Percy looked genuinely surprised.
Fred gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“Besides, you've suffered enough.”
Percy stared at him.
“Have I?”
Fred lasted perhaps two seconds.
“For today.”
“Fred.”
George burst out laughing.
Percy pointed a warning finger at both twins. “This does not leave Hogwarts.”
Fred and George exchanged a glance.
Percy immediately realized his mistake.
“No.”
Neither twin spoke.
“I mean it.”
Still nothing.
“Fred.”
Fred's mouth twitched.
“George.”
George suddenly became fascinated by the sky.
Percy's expression grew increasingly horrified.
“You are not telling Mum.”
Fred finally broke.
“Percy, the entire school just watched you surrender because someone tickled your feet.”
“I am aware!”
“I think Mum deserves to know.”
“She absolutely does not.”
Ron was laughing again.
Fred slipped an arm around Percy's shoulders.
Percy stiffened.
“Relax,” Fred said.
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you're preparing to arrest someone.”
“I work at the Ministry. I know people.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It is becoming one.”
Fred laughed and released him.
For all his teasing, though, there was something different in the way he looked at Percy now. The match had been absurd, but Percy hadn't stormed away afterward. He hadn't complained to Dumbledore or insisted the whole tournament was beneath him.
He'd taken the loss.
More importantly, he'd shaken Fred's hand afterward.
Fred could respect that.
He wasn't going to say so plainly, of course.
That would be horrifying.
Instead, as Percy sat down beside Ginny, Fred dropped into the seat behind him and leaned toward George.
“I'll give him this,” Fred whispered.
George glanced over.
“He lasted longer than I expected.”
Percy turned around.
“I heard that.”
Fred smiled.
“Good.”
Percy adjusted his glasses.
“And for your information, I intend to study today's match carefully.”
Fred raised an eyebrow.
“Study it?”
“Yes.”
Percy's familiar air of seriousness had returned.
“You rely heavily on speed and surprise. Your actual defensive technique remains largely untested.”
Fred's smile faded slightly.
George's grew.
Percy continued.
“You also became overconfident once you had control of the match.”
Fred stared at him.
Ron stopped laughing.
Hermione suddenly looked interested.
Percy straightened his robes.
“If we were to have a rematch, I would approach matters differently.”
There was a brief silence.
Then George slowly turned toward Fred.
“Oh, this is interesting.”
Fred's competitive grin returned.
“A rematch?”
“Hypothetically.”
“No, no, Percy. You can't say something like that and hide behind ‘hypothetically.’”
“I can and I just did.”
Fred leaned forward.
“Tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
“After dinner.”
“Fred.”
“Right now.”
Percy stood.
“I have absolutely no intention of allowing you to tackle me onto that field again.”
Fred pointed triumphantly at him.
“Scared.”
“I am not scared.”
“Sounds scared.”
“Fred, I am twenty years old.”
“Scared twenty-year-old.”
Percy's ears went red.
George whispered, “He's got you there.”
Percy turned on him.
“You stay out of this.”
George raised both hands.
“I'm merely an observer.”
“You are never merely an observer.”
Fred was grinning again.
There it was.
The familiar Percy.
Indignant. Proper. Easily annoyed.
And, Fred now knew beyond any possible doubt, extremely ticklish.
Percy seemed to realize what Fred was thinking.
His expression darkened.
“Don't.”
Fred raised his hands innocently.
“Didn't say anything.”
“You didn't have to.”
Percy started walking away.
Fred called after him.
“Good match, Perce!”
Percy kept walking.
“And don't worry!”
Percy's shoulders tensed.
Fred cupped his hands around his mouth.
“I WON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE FEET!”
Half the nearby Gryffindors immediately started laughing.
Percy stopped dead.
Very slowly, he turned around.
Fred was already running.
“FRED WEASLEY!”
Fred tore down the steps, laughing as Percy charged after him.
George jumped to his feet.
“Oh, this is even better than the match.”
Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione crowded toward the railing as Fred sprinted across the edge of the Quidditch pitch with Percy pursuing him.
“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL ANYONE!”
“I SAID I WOULDN'T TELL MUM!”
“THAT IS NOT BETTER!”
Fred glanced over his shoulder.
Percy was gaining.
That was unexpected.
Fred's grin widened.
Perhaps, he thought, he'd underestimated Percy after all.
Not during the match, obviously.
That had been a massacre.
But maybe afterward.
And as Fred sprinted across the grounds with Percy shouting behind him and half of Gryffindor cheering them on, he decided that defeating his older brother was certainly satisfying.
Getting Percy to chase him afterward?
That was the real victory.
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