A/N: To all of you who are here, happy reading! As a side note, this was written for my friend thatdammarauder (aka. Rachel). It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but considering the fact that it is now April, I don't think that worked out too well. This is crack. Seriously. I wrote half of it on a sugar high.

Note: Italics (A sentence or more in a new paragraph) indicate the fairy tale

Quote of the Day: "Four for you, Glen Coco! You go, Glen Coco!" (Oh, the joys of Mean Girls.)

Warnings: Um, crack? And fairy tales, if you happen to dislike those.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Snow White, or any fairy tales, really.

o o o

Lily Evans was not having a good day. Actually, she wasn't having a good week, either. The whole world seemed to have gone crazy, and worst of all, she hadn't been immune to the epidemic.

"Ow, ow, ow," she muttered under her breath as she made her way up to the girl's dormitory. She had tripped over her own feet during Charms, and walking on her sprained ankle probably didn't help matters. On top of that, she had gained three pounds this week, as a result of binging on chocolate stolen from Remus (she still didn't know how the boy could keep ten packages of dark chocolate underneath his bed without the house-elves finding out).

And now, her room looked like a tornado had swept through it. Her pajamas were under Mary MacDonald's huge pile of Witch Weekly magazines, Marlene McKinnon's quilted pink duvet was flung halfway across the room and onto Lily's bed, and in the middle of the floor, there was a huge, tacky purple book that practically reeked of unstable magic.

There is an unwritten rule of life not to touch anything that looks, smells, or feels particularly dangerous. However, this rule is rarely heeded, and even the smartest of all can fall prey to the consequences of not obeying it. And unfortunately for Lily, she happened to be one of these unlucky people.

Lily stepped closer to the book, and picked it up from the floor. "The Best Book of Fairy Tales Ever Written," she read off of the cover. That was as far as she got, though, for a moment later, the world around her was spinning (and if you had stepped into the room mere seconds after, you would see nothing but an empty, albeit messy, room).

o o o

The first thing Lily noticed when she awoke, was that the ground was moving (and not in a metaphorical way). She seemed to be on a spinning wheel of sorts, one that had flashing neon lights and arrows pointing in all directions. Each arrow looked to be facing a strange scene of sorts, each more bizarre than the one before it.

One had a huge wolf whose mouth was open in mid-growl, as if it had been frozen by a charm. In another, there was a beach with grainy sand and rocks, which seemed almost too real. And in the third, Peter Pettigrew was lying on the ground, dead—wait. What?

Indeed, Pettigrew was lying on the ground (or at least someone who looked remarkably like him). Stepping off the giant wheel, Lily ran towards him. On closer inspection, it became clear that he was not in fact dead, but merely clutching his knee in pain. Strangely enough, he also seemed to be wearing the costume of a court jester (and it actually suited him quite well).

Pettigrew looked up at her, and his features contorted into a picture of fear. "Oh, no," he groaned.

"I didn't know you disliked me that much," Lily replied. "What is this place?"

"Don't concern yourself with it," Pettigrew said dismissively. Lily was quite sure that this was something she should be concerned about, since if she looked hard enough, he still looked more than a bit scared.

"Really?" Lily asked skeptically. "You wouldn't mind, then, if I decided to, I don't know, walk into one of these little scenes? They do look very interesting."

"No!" Pettigrew said too quickly, and with an unneeded amount of force. "No," he repeated. "You have to get out of here," he pleaded. "Please. There's an exit somewhere; there's got to be one. I'm stuck here now, you don't have to be. Leave, quickly!"

If Lily had been in her right mind at the time, she would have obeyed him. However, right now, she was furious. Furious at Pettigrew (What right did he have to boss her around?), furious at the unknown force that had brought her to this strange place, and most of all, furious at herself for deciding to step closer to the book. So, ignoring him, she ran into the closest scene, one that featured a girl about to bite into an apple.

"No!" Pettigrew shouted again, trying (and failing) to snatch onto her robes. Groaning, he ran after her, and tumbled in along with Lily.

They seemed to fall for ages, going past strange statues of satyrs playing the pipes and swooning girls, cracked bottles that said DRINK ME and EAT ME, an old-fashioned record player with "Oh, but it's cold outside..." somehow playing out of it, faded toy bunnies and bears, and what seemed to be a broken pink umbrella.

Lily landed on the ground with an "oomph", Pettigrew following moments later (he was unlucky enough to land on a briar patch, and his cries were much louder and pained). Standing up, she saw that they were somewhere in a forest, filled with chirping birds and blooming flowers. In other words, it looked completely fake.

Some part of her, though, knew that it had to be real. And that part scared her, more than just a bit. She couldn't see an exit anywhere, and Lily wished that she had listened to Pettigrew, and gotten out while she still could. She looked at him, and saw that his jester's costume had changed into that of a huntsman sometime in the past five minutes. Looking down, she saw that her robes had changed into a long dress, one with numerous frills and ribbons (needless to say, it was horrendous).

Once upon a time, there was a mother. I think. Yeah, there was a mother.

Lily clapped her hands over her ears as a voice boomed seemingly out of nowhere. It sounded suspiciously like Potter's when he had tried to charm it to sound "manlier", but she did not have time to dwell on this, as the voice had started talking again.

The mother was extremely beautiful, with long dark hair and pretty green eyes. She was married to a guy, who happened to be the king. So she was the queen.

The queen wanted a child more than anything else in the world (I don't believe that for a second, though. There was probably something else she wanted. She just had to settle for a kid, I guess.). One day, she said to no one, "I wish I had a child with hair like the night, skin like paper, and lips like an apple!" I don't know who heard her, but nine months later, there was a child with black hair, pale skin, and red lips lying in the castle's nursery. They named the child Snow White (basically, they set her up for a lifetime of insults).

Lily frowned. She was quite sure that the story of Snow White did not go like this (at least not the version that she had read as a child). As she thought about this, the forest scene that she had been standing in changed into that of a woman, who seemed to be looking out a tower window.

She let out a little gasp. The queen's—she guessed that it was probably the one the voice had been talking about—lips were moving, and they repeated the exact words the Potter-like voice had said. Lily looked over to Pettigrew, wondering if he had noticed the strange sight, but he was chewing on his bottom lip nervously, and seemed to be muttering, "Oh, no."

Then, the queen died of some sickness. Everyone mourned for her, and the child cried the most. It was all very sad.

The scene shifted again, this time into that of a child weeping. When the child turned around, Lily had to squint to make sure she wasn't mistaken. Instead of a girl, there was a boy, who did have black hair and pale skin, but also a strange resemblance to Black (Really, she wouldn't be surprised if it was him; after all, Pettigrew was standing next to her this very moment.). Black looked very pained, but Lily was quite sure it was not from grief. Rather, it seemed as if he had to force out the tears, and his fists were clenched in anger.

The king got over it, of course, as did Snow White. He married again, to another beautiful woman, one who had an extreme Narcissus complex. She always carried around a huge mirror, to which she would ask, "Mirror, aren't I the prettiest girl you've ever seen?" The mirror would reply, "I haven't been out much, but you are!"

Now, there was a woman—no, girl—standing in front of a mirror, which was decorated with many jewels and colours. Thankfully enough, she did not look like the double of anyone Lily had encountered in the past few weeks.

Snow White grew and grew, and finally reached the age of sixteen. By this time, Snow was even more beautiful than the deceased queen. Snow had many enjoyable pastimes, such as singing and dancing in the woods.

"Brace yourself," Pettigrew said out of the corner of his mouth. Barely a second later, the scene had changed, and Black burst out of the woods, singing out of tune and dancing horribly (he looked like he was struggling to wrangle a catfish, cast a spell, and bottle a potion at the same time). He was not wearing a dress, luckily, as that sight would have caused Lily to die of laughter on the spot.

Lily winced as Black attempted to hit a high C (it ended up sounding more like the dying wail of a hippogriff). She wondered what he had done to end up in that unfortunate situation, and hoped that it wouldn't be happening to her anytime soon. As far as she knew, there was no part in Snow White that involved a hideously dressed princess.

The new queen did not like Snow White from the start, as she believed that children were supposed to be kept "Out of sight, out of mind.", and Snow had a penchant for bursting out into song at random times. That dislike intensified into hate one day when the queen asked her mirror, "Mirror, aren't I the prettiest girl you've ever seen?"

"Hahaha—no," the mirror replied.

The queen gasped. "What? But I'm rich and pretty!"

"You might be pretty," the mirror snickered, "But that Snow White is a lot prettier. I mean, you're too old to be called pretty anymore."

The queen's face scrunched up in anger. "I could destroy you now," she fumed, "Just for calling me old. First, though, I'm going to kill Snow White."

"Good luck with that," the mirror yawned, drifting off into sleep.

Black preened, and smoothed down his hair. "Of course I'm prettier—well, more handsome—than that old hag."

"Wonderful, Sirius," Pettigrew said, with a false air of joviality. "If you haven't realized yet, we have other problems right now. You're a princess, I've been in and out of costumes for half a day, and James is going to die painfully when we get back."

Lily and Black gaped at him.

"What?" Pettigrew asked, his face flushing.

Black laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Why, Wormy, it seems that you've finally grown a backbone."

If possible, Pettigrew's face went even redder. He probably would have spontaneously combusted from embarrassment if the voice hadn't started telling the story again.

The queen decided to call upon her special huntsman to accomplish this frankly, not that hard task (I could kill an innocent sixteen year old girl).

"Oh, Merlin," Pettigrew said. Before Lily realized what was going on, Pettigrew had been sucked into the scene.

"Huntsman, I command you to kill Snow White!" the queen ordered.

"You mean your stepdaughter?" the huntsman thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure."

"You meant her stew?" It seemed that Pettigrew had not heard Potter's voice correctly. "Sure."

The huntsman went off on a long journey in the dark forest to find Snow White (who seemed to be quite good at playing hide-and-seek), whistling all the way.

Lily tried to tune out Pettigrew's whistling (to the tune of A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong, Love, which made her wonder about the boy), and turned to Black.

"What was this place supposed to be?" she asked. "I mean, I don't believe it was created as a black hole of a fairy tale that would literally suck people in. If it was, it was a terrible idea."

Black sniggered. "I'll be sure to tell James that. Anyway, this was a present for you, by your very own stalker, James Potter!"

Lily tried to take deep, calming breaths. "In what world," she said slowly, "Would this be considered a present?" The last part still came out louder than she intended, and Black shrank away.

"Sorry, sorry," Black said defensively, putting his hands up. "It wasn't supposed to be—what did you say it was? A blue hutch of doom?"

"Never mind," Lily sighed. "Just tell me already, what was this supposed to be?"

"Like I told you," Black said, annoyed, "This was a gift for you, so you should probably be more grateful. And it was supposed to be a good gift, too. Remember that day in Charms when Flitwick talked about moving pictures?"

Lily didn't remember any day where they had talked about movies, and the confused look on her face made Black hastily add, "Not the Muggle kind. The type that they use to make photos to move."

"Oh." Now Lily remembered that day; Professor Flitwick had given quite an interesting lecture about the ways Muggle and Wizarding culture could blend together without harm. Moving photographs, he had explained, were not simply made by casting a spell; it took a complex potion which was fortunately sold at many apothecaries and a charm that should be left up to professionals to perform, lest it go horribly wrong.

"James wanted to make you a book of fairy tales, of all things, as a "spontaneous present"." Black snorted. "I don't know why he thought you would appreciate it. Surprisingly, it actually didn't turn out too horribly. But then, he wanted to go above and beyond."

"Ah," Lily replied dryly. Potter's idea of above and beyond meant charming buckets of hard candy to fall from the sky as a Halloween present (that particular incident had caused five concussions in Gryffindor house alone).

"He decided to have his voice say the words out loud, first, to make the experience "less hard on her eyes". Then, James thought that wasn't enough, either. He wanted to have pictures, ones that would move. He already had that potion, so that part was easy. All he had to do was dip a picture in, then use a Permanent Sticking Charm to secure the picture on. He didn't want to go to Ol' Flitwick for the spell part, though. Thought it would make him seem like he was too thick to do it himself."

"And of course, Potter cast the spell, and he did it completely wrong, but he didn't know it." Lily finished.

"Basically," Black replied. "To be fair, it wasn't completely his fault. Not even Remus noticed that he had done something wrong."

Finally, the huntsman came across Snow White in the forest. It would be a pity, the huntsman thought to himself, to kill someone so pretty. Still, he knew he had to do it, but just as he raised his bow to shoot her, Snow noticed.

"Please don't!" Snow begged. "You don't want to have someone's blood on your hands, do you? Besides, I'm too pretty to die!"

The huntsman, being a big ol' softy, complied, and told Snow to run away as far as a person could.

"Well, that's my cue," Black said. "We can continue this conversation later." Lily watched as he flounced(?) off into the scene and said his lines with an alarming familiarity.

Instead of killing Snow White and taking Snow's heart back to the queen, the huntsman killed a stag and took back its heart—WHAT?

There was the sound of flipping pages, before Potter seemed to regain his composure.

No, the huntsman did not kill a stag, nor a doe, nor any other species of the family Deerisa Awesoma. No, he made an artificial heart out of leaves and twigs, and took that back to the queen, who promptly swallowed it whole (cannibalism, anyone?).

Lily still couldn't see a reason for Potter's random outburst, besides the fact that he was a vegetarian and opposed to the consumption of any animal (unlikely, since Lily had seen him gobble down half a plate of ham at Christmas dinner once).

Black reappeared out of the scene a moment later, Pettigrew close behind. They seemed to be deeply engaged in a conversation, but as they got closer, Lily could pick out phrases such as 'stag-icide' and 'Prongs-ilism'.

"You almost killed Prongs! How could you, Peter!" Black said dramatically, his hand over his heart.

"I could kill him at this point," Pettigrew grumbled. "Either the belt on this costume is going to burst soon, or it's going to be my stomach, and neither would be pretty."

"This story should be over soon," Lily said thoughtfully. "All that's left is the attempted murder of Snow White, her kiss, and a happy ending. Then, we can brainstorm ways to get out of here."

"Great," Black said happily. "Wait—you mentioned the murder of Snow White?"

"You'll see," Lily replied innocently.

When the queen had eaten 'Snow White's' heart, she sighed. Finally, she was the prettiest girl in all the land again.

"Mirror, aren't I the prettiest girl you've ever seen?" she asked the mirror (she had forgiven it after long couples-therapy sessions with the scullery maid).

"Nope," the mirror replied. "Snow White isn't dead yet, and by the way, cannibalism is frowned upon in approximately 196 nations."

"Fine," the queen decided. "I'll just have to kill her in more painful ways."

Meanwhile, our dear friend Snow White had by now run as far a person could, until she reached a sign that said, THIS IS THE HOME OF SEVEN HAPPY HOUSE-ELVES.

House-elves? Still, it wasn't too far away from dwarfs, and Lily couldn't expect Potter to have perfect knowledge of Muggle stories (even if he was apparently reading the book at that very moment).

Snow White, knowing when a good opportunity was presented, drank some of the elves' Butterbeer (it was lying on the table, unopened—how could Snow resist it?), ate their triple chocolate cake, and tested all of their tiny 20 times 7 beds, breaking five in the process.

The house elves came in to the house and found Snow lying on three of the beds. Being house elves, they immediately began to clean up, and they decided to take in Snow White, provided that Snow would be kind to them.

The elves were actually real house-elves, once again, and Lily thought she recognized one of them as Dilly, her favorite elf, who always called her Miss Lily and served her raspberry tea when she came down to the kitchens. At this moment, though, she wore an expression of murderous fury not unlike Pettigrew's and Black's (it was a strange sight on a house elf).

Snow White lived happily with the house elves, as Snow could sing and dance to one's heart's content. Unfortunately for her, that life didn't last very long. One day, the queen decided to put her plan to kill Snow White once and for all to action.

Being the vain person she was, the queen decided to dip a hair brush in poison. She made sure that it was the most beautiful comb in all the world (or in the palace), and was quite sure that Snow White would love it.

The queen set off through the woods, disguised as a hag (fitting for an almost-cannibal), and somehow found the elves' cottage. Luckily for her, all the elves were off doing something, and Snow was home alone. "Snow White?" she called through the open window. "I have a gift for you?"

"Yes?" Snow sang, and danced over to the queen. Somehow, Snow didn't know or care that hags were dangerous.

"Here is a beautiful comb for you. Take it," the queen said forcefully. Snow White obeyed, and the queen watched happily as Snow did exactly what she expected to happen, then suddenly fell to the ground.

"Mwahahaha!" the queen laughed not-so evilly.

The elves came home to find Snow "dead". They all wept over the body, until one especially smart elf noticed the comb in Snow's hair, and yanked it out.

"What happened?" Snow slurred. After the elves all hugged Snow tightly and scolded Snow for talking to a stranger, they decided that the best way to prevent this scenario from happening again would be to board up the windows.

Once again, there was a short period of peace, once again filled with Snow singing and dancing.

Pettigrew looked at Lily quizzically. "Does this girl do nothing but sing and dance? She can't have that much of a sorry life."

"I guess that this is just how Potter wanted her to be like." Lily replied, shrugging. Ditzy and vapid, just like himself. Suddenly, Lily remembered something she had meant to ask Black before.

"So, how did the book of fairy tales end up in the girl's dormitory?" Oh Merlin, was Potter even more of a pervert than she had imagined? She was going to take showers clothed from now on.

"Er, long story," Pettigrew said sheepishly. "Don't worry, though; nothing all that bad happened to get it there."

"Great," Lily said. Nothing all that bad. She didn't really want to know what that meant.

Of course, that didn't stay for long. Once again, the queen hatched up another evil plan, this time involving a poisoned apple. The queen changed herself to look like the evil hag she was inside again, and went again to the cottage.

"Free apples!" she croaked. "Free, juicy, red apples!"

Apparently, Snow White had not paid attention to the elves when they told Snow to not talk to strangers.

"Oh!" Snow chirped. "For me?"

"Yes," the queen said, holding out the apple.

"Oh!" Snow cried again, and took the apple from the queen and greedily ate it. "Oh."

Snow swayed unsteadily for a few seconds after eating the apple, then fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Black laid down carefully on the ground, and arranged his features in a way that made him look, if cartoonishly, dead.

"Mwahahaha!" the queen laughed again, and walked away, delighted her evil plan had succeeded. When the elves came to the cottage this time, they couldn't find away to wake Snow up, so they instead wept over the body and placed it in a glass coffin above ground. Somehow, they didn't notice that the body wasn't rotting, even after half a year.

One day, a prince was traveling across the forest, and came across the coffin.

Lily leaned forward to get a sight at the "prince". She wondered who it could be; if it was yet another animated drawing like the queen, or an actual person being forced to play a role like Black or Pettigrew.

"Remus?" she gasped, looking at the figure. It was indeed Remus Lupin, who was currently wearing a coat and riding on top of a horse, and looked almost—dare she say it?—princely, despite the contortion of his facial features.

The boy gave a stiff nod, and continued playing his part in the twisted fairy tale.

Taking a look at the beautiful Snow, the prince fell in love. He opened the coffin carefully, and proceeded to kiss Snow White (strangely enough. I think that's classified as assault.).

She watched eagerly as Remus leaned in closer—and proceeded to yell in Black's ear.

"Get up, you idiot!" he shouted. "We don't have all day!"

Lily snickered at Black's surprised expression, and wondered if he had actually been expecting for Remus to kiss him.

"I'm up, I'm up," Black grumbled. "Glass coffins are a lot more uncomfortable than they seem."

Snow White woke up the moment the prince's lips touched Snow's, and fell in love back with him. The prince took Snow White out of the coffin, and showed Snow to the astonished dwarfs, who hugged Snow tightly and vowed to always keep Snow safe.

Seven house-elves stiffly hugging Black was a strange sight, but not exactly an unwelcome one. Remus, for one, looked like he was about to burst out laughing any second.

When the queen asked the mirror who was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen again, the mirror gave the answer of Snow White, prompting the queen to fly into a jealous rage and smash the mirror over her head, killing both herself and the unfortunate mirror.

The land rejoiced at learning this piece of news, as no one had really liked the queen very much. Snow and the prince were the happiest of all, and proceeded to get married that afternoon, despite knowing barely anything about the other. And, of course, they lived happily ever after, which is the most boring thing that can ever happen in a fairy tale, but seems to always happen anyways. The End.

"Finally!" Black cried. The surroundings around the four of them once again returned to the room that Lily had arrived in, with the still-intact spinning wheel and stills of scenes.

She looked down, and saw that her horrendous dress had once again changed back to her robes. She felt around in her pocket, and pulled out her wand, which was strangely unbroken.

"Why didn't that work for me before?" Pettigrew asked. "I mean, I'm back to normal now, but what about last time? My wand was still gone, and I didn't have my clothes."

"You didn't finish the story," Remus reminded him. "You got out, but we were still in the middle of reenacting Ashputtel. Also, if I'm not mistaken, we've—well, not you, Lily, you only had to do this one—taken a journey through every single story now, so we're done with the book."

"What?"

"Cinderella."

"Still, what?"

"The story with the slipper and the blonde girl who has an evil stepmother. You were the court jester at the ball."

"Ah."

"Well, we're finally done. How do we get out of this place? There isn't an exit in sight."

"Hold on tight," Remus said. "Sirius, you can Apparate, right?"

"I only splinched half my hair off last time!" Black said proudly.

"Wait, what? We're Apparating?" Lily asked frantically. "But neither of you are seventeen! And you're trying to Side-Along Apparate? You could get us thrown into Azkaban! This is a horrible idea."

"Fine," Remus grumbled. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Did Master Remmy ask for us?" a house-elf squeaked, looking up at the quartet.

"Please don't call me that."

"Dilly!" Lily laughed. "We'll use the house-elves. They can Side-Along Apparate—safely."

As if on cue, six more house-elves appeared before them.

"Hold on, Miss Lily!" Dilly said, grabbing her arm. She braced herself, and felt her stomach flip, as the uncomfortable sensation passed through her body.

As soon as they arrived in the girl's dormitory, Pettigrew vomited onto Marlene's bed. A moment later, the three boys were flung out of the room and onto the staircase.

"What was that for, Evans?" she heard Black shout.

"Oops," she said. "I guess I forgot to tell you about what keeps boys out of our dorm." She ran out of the dorm—not before thanking Dilly, of course, for helping them out—and found the trio on the stairs, Pettigrew still rubbing his stomach and looking vaguely green, and Remus clutching his head.

"Sorry," she said, a more sincere expression on her face. "I actually didn't do it on purpose."

"It's fine, Evans," Black said, picking himself up. "Now, let's go find James, who is going to die a very painful death in the next five minutes."

"Agreed."

o o o

"So I flew in—and get this!—he didn't even notice when I snatched the Quaffle out from under his nose!" Lily coughed loudly, and James Potter looked up from where he was regaling a bored girl with his tales of Quidditch heroism, and gulped.

"Oh, hello," he said weakly. "How can I help you?" He looked around nervously as the small gathering of seven angry house-elves, three extremely annoyed teenage boys, and one furious girl closed in on him.

"Oh, Potter," Lily said, an evil smirk on her face. "You can't do anything to save yourself now."

o o o

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