Author's Note: I know, I know...I said I wasn't going to publish on this site any more (due to the plagiarism scare), but I really missed hearing from all of my reviewers! So here's a story that I wrote for a crazy AU fanfic challenge that I thought you all might get a kick out of. (The rules were to write an HP crossover in as weird and original a way as possible, which gives you an idea of the madness that's about to ensue.) It's not Hogwarts Series compliant because it takes place before the Wizarding War, but it could definitely be considered a prequel being as it plants the seeds for an eventual Dramione storyline.

Hope you have a s much fun reading it as I did writing it! And for those of you who are giving my writing a crack for the first time, I am not crazy. Really. At least, not completely ;-P

And without further ado...

Once Upon a Potter

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I don't care if it is a Quidditch game or not, it simply does not give you the right to attempt to embed your opponent's face into the side of the Astronomy tower!"

There is no way that I am going to get detention because of that prat Malfoy, Harry Potter thought angrily. "But Professor McGonagall," he protested, "Malfoy's the one who started it! He threw a handful of Peruvian Darkness Powder in my eyes just as I was about to catch the snitch!"

"I did nothing of the sort, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "And you were about as ready to catch that snitch as your moronic mate the Weasley King is to playing a perfect game. In other words, not even close."

"You take that back, Malfoy!"

"Gentlemen! That is quite enough!" McGonagall commanded. "Now I don't want to hear another word from you two! In fact, I'm going to make sure that you keep quiet by sending you to the library to help out Madame Pince!"

"Help out that hag? I wouldn't be caught dead—"

"Professor, I'm telling you, I didn't—"

"No arguments! Now get going to the library before I change my mind about your punishment and decide to suspend the both of you from playing Quidditch altogether!"

At that, both Seekers snapped their mouths shut and with great reluctance, headed off to the library.

About an hour later both boys were in a back wing of the library, sorting through, dusting off and stacking some ancient tomes that Harry was sure hadn't seen a bookshelf in at least 50 years. He and Malfoy were working in relative silence; Harry had pointedly ignored Malfoy's occasional barbs and eventually the Slytherin had quieted down and began to stack the textbooks with a sour expression. That is, until, Harry pulled out a rather large book from a box and dropped it on his own foot. "Blast!" he swore angrily.

Malfoy snorted in glee. "Potter, I don't know how you managed to make it onto a Quidditch team at all with that magnificent hand-eye coordination of yours."

"Shut it, Malfoy! This book's a lot heavier than it looks!" Harry groaned as he slid the book off of his foot. It was a large primeval-looking leather-bound book, but it had felt like a ton of bricks when it hit his foot. Why was it so heavy? Sitting on the floor, he leaned forward and opened the book to the first page.

Malfoy had been watching him with his silver eyes narrowed in suspicion. "All right, Potter, what's the big deal over here? Are you hiding a copy of Playwizard in there or something?" He plopped down on the floor next to Harry and pulled the book from him. "Oi, this is heavy! What in the bloody hell kind of book is this?"

"Hey, I was reading that!" Harry protested. For some unfathomable reason, he found the old volume intriguing.

"Like you know how to read, Potter!"

"Let go, Malfoy!"

In the struggle, Malfoy had still managed to get a glimpse of the first paragraph. "'Once upon a time'? Potter, are you telling me that you're fighting me over a book of fairy stories? Oh, this is rich!" he sneered mockingly.

Harry looked down at the page. "Wait a minute; this is a muggle book! What's it doing in the Hogwarts library?"

"A muggle book? Salazar's sack!" Malfoy recoiled from the book in revulsion.

"Yeah, my cousin Dudley used to get these kinds of books all the time, but he never touched them so I'd get his rejects. This just looks like just an old book of muggle fairy tales. But why are they here?" Harry wondered aloud.

Malfoy shrugged and made to get up. "Beats me…I couldn't care less about a damned muggle book. I've got more important things to do, like clean my fingernails…or blink…or inhale deeply…"

"Well, help me up first. This book's as heavy as an unconscious troll."

Malfoy let out a huff of exasperation. "Fine, whatever. Anything to get out of here quicker." As he took one end of the large book and Harry the other, the book began to glow with an unearthly light.

"Potter, this isn't funny! Now quit it with the stupid pranks so that we can finish this crap, okay?"

"What do you mean, me? I thought you were the one trying to make a joke!"

Before either one of them could say another word, a flash of light coming from the book filled the room, and there was a large BOOM.

"Potter…Potter, get up off of your dead arse! What in buggerartion did you just do?"

Harry put a hand to his head, which was throbbing, and slowly sat up. The two of them were in a forest, sprawled out on the ground across a dirt path. Malfoy was glaring at him, yet looked startled at the same time.

"What the—where are we?" Harry looked around in confusion.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you good for, Scarhead? I was just going to ask you the same thing!"

"Geez, Malfoy—"

"Excuse me, but have either of you two seen any wolves around here, by any chance?"

Harry and Malfoy blinked at each other in confusion. Then they looked up to find a girl holding a picnic basket and wearing a bright red cape with a wide hood. "Er," Harry began warily. "No…no, I don't think so."

"Oh, good," she sighed in relief, pushing her hood off of her head to reveal a head of long, dark curls. She reminded Harry of Hermione. "Grandma told me to be very careful if I was going to use the forest path, and I got a later start than I would have liked. I certainly didn't expect to run into anyone else here!"

Malfoy eyed the girl with interest. "Neither did I…especially a tasty little bird like yourself." He stood up and approached her with a predatory grin. "What's your name, Red?" he said, giving her red hood a playful little tug.

The girl's eyes were growing larger by the minute, but she seemed to be rooted to the ground. "Uh…I probably shouldn't give my name to a…a stranger," she managed, staring at him with a combination of alarm and fascination.

"Well, allow me to introduce myself, babe…I'm the Big Bad Wolf," Malfoy leered back at her as the girl let out a tiny gasp.

"Blimey, Malfoy, will you quit it?" Harry grabbed a hold of the cape of Malfoy's Quidditch robes and pulled him back. "Er, Miss, you had better get going to your Grandmum's house before it gets dark, okay?" The girl nodded back at him and with one last glance at Malfoy, darted off down the forest path.

"Dammit, Scarhead, do you have to be such a killjoy? That chick was kind of cute!"

"Malfoy, we have got a much bigger problem to worry about here!"

"Yeah, like what?"

"That was Little Red Riding Hood, for Merlin's sakes!"

"Little Red Reading Who?"

"Little Red Riding Hood…she's a character from a muggle fairy tale!" Harry put a hand to his head once more—it was still throbbing quite a bit. "Call me crazy, but I think we may actually be in that muggle fairy tale book."

Malfoy stared at Harry in disbelief. "I'll call you more than crazy, Potter—you're a complete nutter who should be locked up somewhere! There is no way that we could possibly—"

"There he is, Your Majesty! We've spotted the White Rabbit!"

Harry and Malfoy turned to see a life-sized playing card pointing a large spear at Malfoy's chest. "Merlin's balls!" Malfoy exclaimed, jumping back. "What in the bloody hell is thi—"

Another playing card jumped into the fray and pointed a spear at Harry. "And just who are you, stranger? Are you trying to steal Her Majesty's White Rabbit like that 'Alice' girl?"

"White Rabbit, my arse! I'm a Malfoy, you oversized game piece!"

Harry put his hands up and spoke in a placating tone. "He's not the White Rabbit…we're actually…er…mercenaries! Yeah, that's it! We were hired by the Queen of Hearts to go and find the White Rabbit for her! We were on that 'Alice' girl's trail until you stopped us, and now we've probably lost her!"

"We have?" Both cards stared back at Harry in consternation.

"Yeah! So let us go this instant or you'll have Her Majesty's wrath to deal with!"

The cards lowered their spears. "We're very sorry Mister Mercenaries…good luck on your search, and if you need any of us cards for assistance, please let us know!"

"The only thing I'd need either of you two for is if I was making a trip to the gaming hall," Malfoy snarled under his breath.

Harry gave him a quick kick to the shin, but kept his eyes on the retreating cards. When they were gone, he turned back to the sullen Slytherin. "All right, Malfoy, now do you believe me? We've got a serious problem here!"

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I HIRED NO MERCENARIES—THEY TRICKED YOU INTO THINKING THAT THEY'RE INNOCENT! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!"

"Now how did the Weasel King's Mum get all the way out here?" Malfoy quipped.

"Malfoy, quit it! That's the Queen of Hearts…we've got to get out of here right now!" Harry started to bolt down the forest path and Malfoy followed suit. After a series of twists and turns off of the main path (in order to throw the card guards off of their trail), they found themselves facing a clearing with a small, inviting cottage. Harry stepped up to the front door and gave it a tentative knock. After a moment, the door opened, seemingly of its own accord. Harry and Malfoy looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Hello?" Harry finally called into the cottage. "Is anyone there?"

"Down here, pinhead."

Harry looked down and saw an irate-looking dwarf frowning up at him. Malfoy grimaced in distaste and muttered to Harry, "Brilliant. A Flitwick wannabe. Remind me to drop Charms when we get out of this blasted place and get back to Hogwarts."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes in frustration.

"Well," the surly dwarf demanded, "what do you want?"

Malfoy snorted. "I'd like to make a deposit into my Gringotts account."

Harry kicked him again and Malfoy swore under his breath. "Er," Harry began, "could we please come in for a moment or two? We're on the run from an army of cards and we could really use a place to hide."

Several other dwarves had started to emerge from other parts of the cottage and came to the door to stare at the boys in curiosity. They all seemed to have quite poor eyesight because they were squinting up at Harry and Malfoy and murmuring in curiosity amongst themselves. Finally, one of the smallest dwarves from the back of the group asked, "Are you ladies in some sort of trouble?"

"Ladies?" Malfoy exclaimed in a highly insulted tone. Harry kicked him once more. "Dammit, Scarhead, if you kick me one more time—"

Harry leaned in and whispered, "They can hardly see from working in the mines all day and probably think our Quidditch robes are dresses, you prat! Now play along because they're more likely to help out two damsels in distress than a couple of snarky gits, okay?"

Malfoy looked like he was ready to explode, but Harry turned back to the dwarves and covered it with, "Yes, I'm uh…" he glanced down at his red Gryffindor Quidditch robes and quickly improvised, "…Rose Red. And this is…" he looked at Malfoy, who was glaring at him in abhorrence through the strands of white-blonde hair that were falling across his forehead. "…Snow White."

"I am not going to pose as any stupid slag named Snow—"

Harry kicked him again.

"Bugger me!" Malfoy swore through clenched teeth.

Harry continued as if the exchange with Malfoy had never occurred. "We could really use your help," he finished with as winning a smile as he could manage. Sure hope this works, he thought nervously. I don't have much experience trying to charm dwarves,

"Oh, no you don't," the first dwarf said in a brusque tone. "Nobody gets in our house!" He turned back to the other dwarves. "They could be witches who are trying to ensnare us and steal our diamonds!" A few murmured in agreement.

Malfoy stepped in front of Harry. "Look here, you vertically challenged twit! You'd better let us in before I step on your ugsome little face!"

"I'd like to see you try, you white-haired amazon!"

"You tell him, Grumpy!"

"My hair is NOT white!"

Harry could hear the army of cards getting closer. "Malfoy," he nudged the Slytherin Seeker, who was too involved in an insult match with the rebellious dwarves to take notice. "Malfoy," Harry broke in again.

"Sod off, Potter!"

Harry grabbed Malfoy's head and spun it to face the direction from which they had come. The irate cards could be seen approaching from the distance. As one, the boys turned back to the dwarves and pushed their way into the cottage, slamming the door behind them.

"Do you think they'll try to break in here?" Malfoy asked Harry.

"I don't know; I—"

"Get the witches!" All of a sudden, the dwarves flew at Harry and Malfoy, brandishing tiny clubs. Harry took off in one direction, Malfoy in the other.

Harry managed to give the dwarves the slip after he darted out the back door and hid behind the shed. Luckily, the area had been well-shaded from the trees and being as his original assessment was correct—the dwarves did have poor eyesight—they were unable to spot him. When he was certain that all of the angry dwarves had given up their pursuit, he decided to sneak around to the side of the house to see if he could find out what had happened to Malfoy. Harry had a feeling that he needed to stick with the scornful Slytherin—somehow, the two of them had managed to get themselves into this mess; most likely it would be necessary for the two of them to work together in order to get themselves out of it. Harry wasn't looking forward to it, but he was even less enthusiastic about spending the rest of his days dodging sadistic playing cards. Cautiously, he crept up to the side of the cottage and peeked in the window.

"Ah, there you are, my lovely Briar Rose! I have been searching this wood for you in earnest! I heard that you had been under a sleeping spell at some castle, but I knew it couldn't be true!"

Harry turned to the sound of the new voice to find a rather vapid looking prince sitting atop a white horse that reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart. "Er," Harry began, backing away, "look, your highness, I am not this Briar Rose, okay? Surely you can see that I'm a bloke!"

The prince looked befuddled. "Is that so? I think you are trying to fool the great Prince Philip!" He whipped out a sword and pointed it at Harry's throat. Great Gryffindor, this is getting worse by the minute. "If a lad you be, then why are you wearing a dress? Answer me that!" He looked so proud of himself for coming up with that deduction that Harry would not have been surprised if the prince had followed it up with handing Harry an autographed picture.

Harry didn't even get a chance to answer, for the angry mob of cards had spotted him once again and were drawing closer. However, this time Harry was ready for them—being as he was no longer on the run, his aim would be reliable. Whipping out his wand, he pointed it at the cards and shouted, "Impedimenta!"

Instantly, the cards all froze and toppled over into a neat stack.

"Odds bodkins!" the foppish prince exclaimed. "That was magnificent! Now I see why you are wearing dress-like robes, lad…you are a powerful wizard!"

Harry's smile was wry. "Well, in a way, yes," he admitted. Anything to keep this yampy prince from pointing that sword at me again.

"Perhaps it is Divine Providence that has caused me to run into you, great wizard! Apparently, my darling Briar Rose has been cursed with a spell that makes her allergic to spinning wheels and none of my court wizards can find anything in the Great Book of Spells to help her…"

Great Book of Spells? I don't remember anything about a Great Book of Spells in the Sleeping Beauty story. Unless... "What does this Great Book of Spells look like?" Harry interrupted.

"It's a rather large, ancient looking book, leather-bound in black with thick parchment pages…"

That certainly sounds like the book that got us into this grand mess in the first place. "Well," Harry began, thinking quickly, "I know all about that book and I can definitely help you, but first I need to get my uh…wizard's assistant first. He's in here," Harry indicated, gesturing to the cottage. Malfoy is going to owe me big time for this one, even though he's going to hate posing as my assistant. This ought to be fun.

"Let's not waste any more time then, lad!" The prince dismounted his horse and pompously strode to the front door. "I'll just inform him that his presence is requested by the royal house!" He knocked on the door and after a moment it swung open.

This time, a slightly less surly dwarf stood in the doorway. "Yes? What do you want?"

The prince puffed up his chest. Apparently he was put out at not being recognized. "Wee man, I am Prince Philip and I understand that there is a wizard's assistant in a long dress in there that I need to complete a royal task for me! Now send him out immediately!" he commanded with a flourishing gesture.

"Do you mean the snooty blonde in the green gown? She's not here."

Harry stepped forward. "What do you mean he's…she's…" Harry had almost forgotten that he told the dwarves that Malfoy was Snow White. "Where is…she?" he demanded.

"She made a run for it. Took out some sort of branch and made this big boom that busted a hole in our wall," the dwarf indicated a large hole on the other side of the door. "Ran off into the woods…good riddance, I say." With that, the dwarf slammed the door in their faces.

Harry sighed. "Blast. I should have known Malfoy would find a way to make this even more complicated."