Twisted Fairy Tales

A/N: Just felt like writing weird fairy tales with Harry and co in it. Please turn off all pagers and cell phones during showtime! =D R/R!

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Chapter One: Hansel and Gretel

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            Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a woodcutter and his wife. They had two children, a boy and a girl. The boy's name was…

*POP*

            A lanky boy with fiery red hair with a dirty spot on his nose appeared out of nowhere and fell from the sky. He fell on his head and had a concussion.

            "CUT CUT CUT! Damnit! That's the forth time today! Can you get it right?! You're supposed to land gracefully onto the ground, not land on your head and get a concussion!" A girl with black hair and brown eyes yelled, sitting on a chair marked 'AUTHORESS' on the back.

            The boy scowled at them. "It's not my bloody fault! How am I supposed to fall from thousands of feet from the air and land gracefully?!" He spat on the ground.

            "Well, Aladdin can do it!"

            "He has a magic flying carpet!"

            "So?!"

"Let's see you try then! I bet you'll land on your head as well and go right through the stage!"

            "Will not!"

            "Will too!"

            "Will not!"

            "Will too!"

            "WILL NOT!"

            "WILL TOO!"

            "Oh shut up!"

            "You shut up!"

            "CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH THE FRICKEN SCENE???!!!" Hermione Granger, who by the way was dressed up as a tree in the background, glared at them. Her arms were stuck out at a crooked angle to resemble branches. "MY ARMS ARE GOING TO SNAP AND THIS TREE COSTUME IS GETTING REALLY STUFFY!"

            Ron and the Almighty Authoress huffed and crossed their arms at the same time, their backs to each other.

            After an hour of retaking and Ron getting concussions about every time they shot the scene, they finally filmed it right…

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a woodcutter and his wife. They had two children, a boy and a girl. The boy's name was…

*POP*

            A lanky boy with fiery red hair with a dirty spot on his nose appeared out of nowhere and fell from the sky. He fell onto the ground as "gracefully" as he could.

            …Ron and the girl's name was…

            *POP*

            A boy with blonde hair that was almost the colour of pure white fell from the sky, screeching and flailing his arms as he dropped onto the stage at Ron's feet.

            …Draco. The woodcutter loved his two children very much but for the wife, it was the exact oppo—

            "WHERE THE BLOODY HELL AM I?!" Draco hollered. He looked around the theatre with a scowl then looked upon himself and screamed. "WHAT THE **censored** AM I WEARING???"

            Ron tried to stifle his laughter. In fact everyone did. In a matter of seconds, everyone burst out in fits of non-stop giggling. Everyone was howling, rolling on the ground pointing at him. Draco was sporting a tattered petticoat and a lacey apron draped over him. On his head was a frilly bonnet that knotted together tightly under his chin. Draco shot daggers at Ron as he tried to untie the bonnet.

            "Now now Draco, didn't you get my owl mail? I told you, you are going to be playing the role of Gretel in our play. Isn't that fantastic?!" The Authoress (with a capital A) grinned. "Oh and please stop trying to untie the bonnet. I used a charm to make it secure and absolutely tight."

            "WELL YOU COULD HAVE **censored** GIVEN ME A **censored** MALE ROLE!!! WAIT UNTIL MY FATHER WILL **censored** HEAR THIS—"

"Silencio." The Authoress flicked her wand and immediately Draco fell silent. "Now be a good little girl- I mean boy and follow along." She flicked her wand once more and Draco muttered something repulsive under his breath, something how he was going to hex them all to death once he was done with this dratted play.

            Anyway…so the wife hated her children. She loathed them so much and wanted them to die. But why, do you ask?! The two children were so sweet and did nothing wrong. You see, the family was very poor and –

            "OH HELL WITH IT, FATHER WILL PAY THE FAMILY THEN! CAN I GO NOW?!!!" Draco yelled.

            …and they had hardly anything to eat. Food was very scarce and the family mostly survived on one loaf of bread a week. One night when the children were off to bed, the wife and the woodcutter had a talk.

            *POP*

            A scrawny boy with messy jet black hair and emerald eyes fell from the sky. He got up, looking dazed and confused. "Where am I…why am I here…?" He looked around the theatre in question.

            The Authoress sighed. "You're playing the role of the woodcutter in our play…we're reenacting Hansel and Gretel. GOD, DID ANYONE GET MY OWL MAIL TELLING THEM ABOUT THIS?! I THINK I'M GOING TO TRADE THAT RUBBISH OWL OF MINE FOR A NEW ONE! FOR HEAVEN'S BID—"

            "Oh, um, okay." Harry looked slightly taken aback at the girl's outbreak.

            *POP*

            An ugly man with long locks of greasy black hair and a hooked nose fell from the sky onto the stage. "What in the name…!" He glanced around and spotted Harry. "Well well, look what we got here…it's Potter." He spat at the last word. Harry's eyes searched Snape up and down and then he slapped his thigh, bursting out into a series of laughter. He wiped tears from his eyes.

            "Are you laughing at ME, Potter?! How dare you?!" Snape snarled.

            Suddenly the whole crew cracked up into hysterics.

            "WHAT ARE YOU ALL LAUGHING AT?! DAMNIT! I'LL MIX SHRINKING POTIONS IN ALL OF YOUR FOOD TOMORROW IF YOU DON'T TELL ME!" Snape screamed at them.

            Ron, his whole body trembling with laughter, pointed a shaking finger at him. Snape looked down at himself and starting screaming bloody murder. His robes were now replaced with a black petticoat with a lacey apron on top. His hair magically tied itself into two French braids and he had quite a big chest.

            "Nice bosom, Snape." Harry threw back his head and cackled.

            Snape was steaming with anger. "BE QUIET, POTTER, OR YOU MAY FAIL POTIONS THIS YEAR! AND THAT'S PROFESSOR SNAPE OR 'SIR' TO YOU!" He snapped angrily. Harry immediately quieted.

            "So er, anyway, you're playing the woodcutter's wife…in this case, Harry's wife-" Harry reddened and so did Snape. "AND IF I GET ANY MORE INTERRUPTIONS, I'LL POISON YOU ALL!!!" The Authoress threw back her head and cackled.

            "Oh boy, she's acting like Snape now…" muttered Hermione to the rock beside her, also known as Neville. He nodded. The Authoress turned a withering eye on her and then continued on.

            "Okay, let's roll." She waved a gesture at the stage. Harry and Snape looked out of place, shifting uncomfortably. They guessed that they were to say their lines now.

            "So uh, wife, there is something troubling my mind." Harry said, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

            "Really, darling? Well how about telling me all about it." Snape replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

            Harry squinted at the piece of cardboard the Authoress was holding up, with his lines on it. "We can't k-keep going…like this. I am worried that we won't be…be able to weed our er, children—"

            "IT'S FEED, NOT WEED! Geez, can't even read." The Authoress rolled her eyes.

            "Sorry…I can't see that far away."

            She huffed, tapping her pencil on her clipboard impatiently. "Well, tough luck."

            "--much longer and I am worried as well that we won't be able to w-feed ourselves too."

            "How about we take the children to the forest tomorrow morning? We'll abandon them in the deepest of the forest or better yet I CAN CHOP THEIR HEADS OFF WITH YOUR AXE AND THERE WILL BE 2 LESS KIDS IN THE WORLD, MWUAHAHAHAHA!!!!" Snape threw back his head and cackled.

            "SNAPE, YOU DUMBASS, STICK TO THE DAMN SCRIPT! I'M NOT HOLDING UP THIS PIECE OF CARDBOARD FOR NOTHING! LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN!" The Authoress looking extremely ticked off propped her feet up on her seat.


            "How about we take the children to the forest tomorrow morning? We'll abandon them in the deepest of the forest and those lil PUNK KIDS CAN DIE, MWUAHAHAHA!" Snape threw back his head and cackled.

            "Man, what's with the head-throwing-cackling thing? First Harry, then…" Neville shuddered. "her, then Snape. It's getting quite scary." He whispered to Hermione who nodded.

            "QUIET YOU!" The Authoress was now white in the face in rage. "THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK! DAMNIT, NONE OF YOU KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, WE KEEP GETTING INTERRUPTED, NO ONE STICKS TO THE SCRIPT, TREES NOR ROCKS TALK BUT I'M POSITIVELY SURE THAT GRASS DOES, THE MOON IS MADE OF CHEESE AND THAT'S WHY THERE ARE CRATERS IN IT BECAUSE I ATE SOME OF IT, TOM FELTON IS INCREDIBLY HOT, TOE SOCKS ARE PURDY, LA LA LA…"

            "Uh, let's run away now..." Harry whispered to the crew and they all nodded. Risking a look at the Authoress, who was now talking about how blue cows will now rule the world, they crept backstage and then ran for their lives towards the exit.

            "3…2…1…" They bolted out the door but even behind it, they could hear her voice.

            "WHAT THE BLOODY F***!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COME BACK YOU LITTLE BRATS!!!!!!! ARGH ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON ALL OF YOU…"

            to be continued…