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Aristeia smirked as she tracked the wounded creature through the forest, stalking through the bushes and tree branches as she followed her prey, eager to claim the bounty upon it once she managed to make the kill. Her fierce, determined expression faltered when a high-rising branch from a bush scraped over her midriff as she walked past, the tiny thorns on the branch scratching uncomfortably at the soft, exposed flesh of her stomach. The warrior's mood abruptly soured as she continued following the creature, growing frustrated and dismal as she tended to do whenever she recalled the Sorceress' curse upon her midriff and navel. It was hard to forget, given that whenever the brunette woman's eyes flickered down, she caught sight of her cursed-bare belly and her bulbous, protruding outie bellybutton. Aristeia's displeasure at her predicament only grew when she tracked the creature to a narrow crevice in a rock formation, where the creature had undoubtedly ventured in a futile attempt

Sylvie groaned as she stood outside the rented house that she shared with her three roommates, rummaging desperately through her pockets. "I can't believe this!" she exclaimed, tossing her hands up in frustration. Somehow she'd manage to lose her keys, leaving her trapped outside the house as it began to grow dark. With a sigh she eyed the small dog door at the bottom of the front door; surely she was thin enough to fit through. Sylvie lowered herself to the floor of the porch, grimacing as her soft, nearly-flat bare belly touched the cool wood. After her strangely perilous Haunted House trip a few weeks earlier Sylvie had been hesitant to expose her stomach, until she reasoned that whatever odd happening had occurred in the Haunted House, her belly wasn't bound to be in much danger if she just went about her day-to-day life wearing a crop top. She peered in through the dog door and called, "Hello, anyone home?" When there was no answer Sylvie sighed and twisted around, leaving her

"Please help me?" Margery begged, her eyes wide as she entreated Corinne pleadingly. "I can't live like this anymore!" Corinne looked up from her book as she sat at a table in the library and with effort, assumed a neutral expression, though internally all she could feel was smug satisfaction. The petite blonde had been forced to leave her stomach exposed for two full days, pretending that the spell she'd cast on her classmates had been unfamiliar to her, in order to force them all to remain with their midriffs involuntarily displayed. It had been well worth it, especially when the other sorceresses at her training institution began relentlessly teasing those who had magically cropped tops. After two days Corinne "found" a counteract to the spell which she was more than happy to use on her ever-so-grateful classmates, who she suspected wouldn't be teasing Corinne's midriff again anytime soon. She was content, however, to let her specially-selected group of offenders continue

Neville never TRIED to misbehave. He always did his best to make his grandmother proud. Unfortunately, he was clumsy, and while he was quite intelligent, he wasn't clever in the sharp, obvious way that everyone else valued. The good news was that his grandmother was not abusive like some pure-blood families, and she loved Neville in her stern, critical way. The bad news was that she was old-fashioned, and she still used methods of discipline that hadn't even been used on most of his parents' generation. “Aww, has someone been a naughty boy?” Neville's Great-Aunt Alma cooed. “Yes, Aunt Alma,” Neville whimpered. He squirmed and tried to pull his shirt down so no cloth touched his underarms, but of course, it didn't work. “It brings back so many memories, doesn't it?” Cousin Agatha reminisced. They both giggled and patted his head, as if this were cute. “The old ways truly are the best ways,” Great-Aunt Alma said. “Now bear your punishment like a man.” “Yes, Aunt

Lee cautiously inspected his bed for any signs of booby traps before dramatically flopping onto it face first. Having Fred and George Weasley for friends was exhausting. Lee sighed and rolled over. It wasn't that he didn't like the guys. They were his best mates. They could always make him laugh, they dragged him into the most exciting adventures, and they came up with the most creative games. It also helped that they'd easily accepted him when he came out to them as a trans guy. However, life around the Weasley twins could sometimes be a bit too exciting. Being their roommate made him a convenient target for pranks. Just this afternoon, Lee had sat down on what appeared to be a normal chair in the common room that was actually Fred in a magically-assisted disguise. Lee's heart was still pounding from the moment when Fred had wrapped his arms, camouflaged as chair arms, around Lee while he'd been engrossed in the latest Discworld novel. And that didn't even take

Fred and George Weasley loved making people laugh. Whether it was through jokes or pranks, nothing gave them more pleasure than hearing someone’s laughter and knowing they were the cause. This might not have been a problem if they’d stuck to jokes and pranks, but the twins also loved to make people laugh through – other means. Fred and George had spent the earliest parts of their childhoods being tickled by their older brothers, as is the fate of any child with an older brother. It wasn’t too long, however, before the ticklees became the ticklers. The pair honed their tickling techniques and tested them out enthusiastically on their four brothers, their sister, and each other. They didn’t stop tickling once they began Hogwarts. The Weasley twins were almost as infamous for their tickling tendencies as they were for their pranks. Their roommate, Lee, was a favourite target, as were the Gryffindors in the years below them. The twins did not, however, neglect their siblings as

Slughorn had given Tom good information on Horcruxes, especially the possibility of creating more than one, but Tom had to find out how to make a Horcrux on his own. Every source he found said that it was a bad idea to make a living animal or person a Horcrux. Tom mostly figured this was good sense. After all, that would be limiting his lifespan to the lifespan of the living Horcrux. However, one obscure source also warned that living Horcruxes were vulnerable to love and laughter. Tom dismissed this as fairy tale logic. XXX "The one with the weakness to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have weakness the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the weakness to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...." Well, that's a very odd

Harry settled into the comfy chair in the Gryffindor Common Room. Today marked the fourteenth day in a row that Harry didn't have detention. Ever since Harry came to Hogwarts, Snape had tickle tortured him in his detentions. This latest detention had involved writing lines with a quill that tickled Harry’s feet when anyone wrote with it. For weeks he had suffered through hours of tickle torture by the Tickle Quill every night, but finally, finally he had written all of the sentences to Snape’s satisfaction. He knew it was only a matter of time before Snape gave him detention again, but for now, Harry enjoyed a normal, tickle-free school experience. Happy and relaxed, Harry opened his Herbology book and began to read. XXX Snape sighed. He hated being a teacher. He hated dealing with adolescent dunderheads, he hated documenting their negligible progress, and he hated grading their idiotic papers. Unfortunately, this was what Dumbledore required of him. With another

Harry took a deep breath, straightened his back, and walked into Snape's office. He had detention. Again. Snape lived to make Harry's life miserable. He belittled him, taunted him, took points, and assigned detentions as often as he could possibly get away with it. Detention was never fun, but Snape's detentions were the worst at Hogwarts. Everyone hated Snape's detentions, but Harry gathered that the detentions Snape gave Harry were different from the detentions he gave everyone else. Ever since Harry's first year, Snape tickled Harry in his detentions. Back when it first started, Snape convinced Harry that tickling was a somewhat normal punishment in the Wizarding World and that if Harry didn't cooperate, he would be expelled. Now that Harry was in his third year, he wasn't certain that all of that was true, but he didn't want to risk losing his friends and magic just in case Snape could get him expelled. In Harry's very first detention with Snape, Snape had nearly