A/N: Some of these prompts are so wildly different that it is going to be impossible to have a cohesive, linear plot with an over-reaching story. These are one-shots, stand-alones, etc. You'll see what I mean as we go along. Some of these prompts are going to be quite the challenge…

This week's prompt was "the retelling of a fairy tale," which might seem easy enough, except for the fact that I've actually done several HP fairy tale stories. I had to think of one I *hadn't* done that might fit the Siremione theme.

There are NOT a lot (or any) fairy tales with multiple love interests. I tried to think of stories that might fit or might work (Ivan Tsarevitch, the Firebird, and the Wolf), but most of them really didn't. Finally, I thought of The Princess Who Couldn't Smile/Laugh. Who better to make a Gryffindor Princess laugh than two Marauders?

So this is set in fairy tale land, but is not magical. The original fairy tale didn't have magic as an element, so I didn't use it here.

The Princess Who Couldn't Smile

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Gryffindor there lived a brave King named Godric. Gryffindor was a happy, peaceful kingdom, and King Godric was mostly content, except for one, small thing- his daughter never smiled, or laughed. Perhaps good King Godric might have ordered his daughter to smile, but he was not that kind of king, nor that kind of father.

All that Godric wished for was that his daughter might be happy, and that she would smile and laugh as other young ladies of the court were wont to do. Godric had consulted with his advisors. He had sent his knights out on quests to search out every wise woman and every hermit—looking for some kind of cure, but no one had been successful.

"Your grace, her royal highness' tutors are here," Royal Page Colin announced.

Godric looked up from the regional reports and frowned at his newest page. The boy practically vibrated with excitement, and he was so eager to do his job properly, that Godric was half-exhausted just watching the lad. He waved a hand at the Royal Page.

"Show them in, please," Godric replied. He set aside the regional reports and sat back in his chair to await the new tutor for the princess of Gryffindor.

It was no secret that the Princess Hermione was devoted to her studies. As a child her favourite question had always been "why?" and Godric had made sure to surround his beloved daughter with people who could help her learn the answers to her questions.

The Lady Minerva of Ross had been with her royal highness, the princess of Gryffindor since she was a small child. In fact, Lady Minerva had fulfilled a motherly sort of role for the Princess Hermione, and had morphed from being her royal highness' governess to being more of an advisor to the princess. Master Remus Lupin was a newer appointment who had been hired to challenge the princess, and encourage her continued interest in her studies with a focus on political studies and statecraft.

"Your grace," Lady Minerva murmured and curtseyed deeply.

"Your grace," Remus Lupin echoed, bowing.

"Lady Minerva, Master Lupin," Godric acknowledged them both.

"How can we serve your grace?" Lady Minerva asked.

"The Princess Hermione," Godric sighed. Lady Minerva's eye twitched.

"What has her royal highness done now, your grace?" Lady Minerva asked cautiously.

Master Lupin turned to stare at Lady Minerva. "Is her royal highness… prone to, erm, mischief?" He asked in a careful voice.

Lady Minerva waved a hand impatiently at Master Lupin. "Of course not," Lady Minerva retorted with a sniff. "Princess Hermione is perfectly behaved at all times."

"The princess has a tendency to take on projects," Godric explained.

"She attempted to form a union for sex workers," Lady Minerva observed drily. "There was also the time that she suggested that his royal grace might admit women to his knighthood."

"And to my privy council," Godric added. He smirked at Master Lupin. "So I added the Lady Minerva."

"I see," Master Lupin murmured faintly.

"I blame Lady Minerva, of course," Godric continued with a smirk. "She is a strong-willed woman, and she has been Princess Hermione's governess since she was a child."

Lady Minerva made a very unlady-like snort. "Queen Cliodne was just as strong-willed, sire."

A nostalgic smile curved Godric's lips for just a moment. "She was at that."

"What is the problem with her royal highness then?" Mr. Lupin asked with a small frown.

"You might have noticed that the princess doesn't laugh," Lady Minerva explained after a quick glance at Godric who nodded his permission.

"I… I had, actually," Mr. Lupin offered. "Two of the squires attempted to prank me on my first day, and it backfired on them rather spectacularly. Everyone who saw it laughed, except for the princess."

"Fred and George," Lady Minerva growled. "They'll be lucky if they live long enough to gain their spurs."

"High-spirited lads," Godric said with a wide grin. "Remind me of myself at that age."

"Hmph." Lady Minerva huffed in irritation.

"Minnie," Godric sighed and his shoulders slumped. "What do I do? How do I help our girl?"

"Your grace," Mr. Lupin spoke and then hesitated. Godric waved a hand at him impatiently.

"Spit it out for Merlin's sake," Godric grumbled at him. "If it will help my daughter, I'll try it. Merlin knows I've tried everything."

"Perhaps some kind of contest?" Mr. Lupin hazarded. "If… if the princess were the judge, and there were some sort of prize, then… well, I imagine a lot of people would enter—and that would be a lot of people trying to… to make her laugh."

"A contest," Godric murmured.

"Never mind," Mr. Lupin blurted out. "It's a stupid idea."

"No, it's a brilliant idea," Godric decided eagerly. "But what would bring people to Hogwarts?"

"Erm…" Mr. Lupin looked to Lady Minerva for help, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Perhaps if we thought about it for a day or two, your grace," Lady Minerva suggested.

"Of course," Godric agreed with a slightly distracted air. He waved a hand at the both of them. "You may leave us."

Lady Minerva curtseyed deeply and back slowly out of the room. Mr. Lupin bowed and then backed out of the room, following Lady Minerva.

"My lady," Mr. Lupin said once they were alone. He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "What do we do?"

"I suggest you go think of a way to bring people to Hogwarts," Lady Minerva told him tartly. She tilted her head and eyed Mr. Lupin. "And perhaps you'll think of a way to make the princess laugh."

/\/\/\/\/\

"When does my foster brother return?" Princess Hermione asked with a heavy sigh.

"When does the Black Knight return is what my lady meant to say, I'm sure," Lady Ginevra teased.

"As princess of Gryffindor I am, of course, concerned for the safety and well-being of all of my father's knights," Princess Hermione huffed, but her cheeks flushed and she refused to look her lady-in-waiting in the eye.

"Of course," Lady Ginevra agreed solemnly. Then she smirked wickedly at her princess. "But Sir Sirius is pleasing to the eye, is he not, my lady?"

"It is the consensus among the court," Princess Hermione grumbled, and picked at a loose thread on her gown. She sighed again and turned to stare out her bedroom window. "It hardly matters. Sir Sirius will never see me as anything more than a child."

"My lady," Lady Ginevra protested. "You were eleven years old and you had the flu."

"I threw up on him," Princess Hermione reminded her. She turned to her lady-in-waiting and grimaced. "It's my understanding that being thrown up stays with a person."

"Did you know that your new tutor, Mr. Lupin, came from the Black Knight's estate?" Lady Ginevra teased her. "Perhaps you could ask him if Sir Sirius has ever mentioned you."

"He did?" Hermione asked curiously.

The mysterious Mr. Lupin had been the subject of much debate with his reserved manner and his scarred face. Hermione had done her best not to stare when the Lady Minerva had introduced them. She imagined that whatever had caused them had to have been painful, and she suspected that Mr. Lupin would rather not discuss them.

It had been lovely to have someone as well read as Mr. Lupin to challenge her in her studies. He was a wonderful tutor—patient, kind, and thought-provoking. Hermione found herself actively seeking his praise and basking in the approval shining in his green eyes. He had never been anything less than perfectly proper, but Hermione couldn't help the way her heart raced every time he argued philosophy with her.

"That's what Lavender and Parvati said at dinner last night," Ginevra said with a shrug. "You'd know the gossip if you ate in the Hall more often."

"I hate sitting at the dais," Hermione confessed with a frown. "Everyone is always staring at me."

"That's because of the…," Ginevra paused and grimaced. "You know."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed.

On any given day, the Princess-Who-Couldn't-Smile was the major topic of gossip. Any time anyone came to the capital of Hogwarts, or any time a traveling dignitary came to treat with her father they would find a way to take a look at her. Hermione hated it, but there was nothing she could do to change it.

One of her more imaginative ladies-in-waiting, the Lady Lavender, was convinced that Hermione had been cursed by a dark sorcerer, which was so ridiculous that if Hermione could have laughed, she would have been rolling on the floor crying with laughter.

The Lady Luna insisted that it was because Hermione was infested with nargles, whatever those were. Lady Minerva hadn't wanted to take any chances—they had burned all of her bedding and her clothing. Hermione still hadn't completely forgiven Luna for that one.

"You should come tonight," Ginevra urged her. "Perhaps you could sit next to Mr. Lupin."

"Perhaps I should," Hermione murmured.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Master Lupin," the princess greeted him with a regal nod of her head as she entered the library where her studies took place.

The court fashions took some getting used to, but Remus was slowly becoming accustomed. The princess' thick curls had been subdued into two, thick braids wrapped with embroidered red and gold ribbons. Little bells were affixed to the ends of her braids that tinkled merrily when she moved. A thin circlet held a white linen veil over her hair.

"Your highness," Remus replied with a polite bow.

Being at court, surrounded by nobility, had not been his idea, but it had always been difficult for him to say no to Sirius.

"I need you there, Moony."

As usual, Sirius hadn't been forthcoming with why Remus needed to mingle with nobility.

The princess had been a welcome surprise. The rumours about her condition were rife throughout the country, but no one ever talked about how very clever she was. Remus often thought her the brightest young woman of her age. Her Greek was a bit rusty, but her Latin was outstanding, and she had ploughed through Boethius with a determination that was intimidating.

It must also be admitted that Remus did the best he could to avoid noting the line of her throat, the slender bones of her wrists, and the fetching way she chewed the end of her quill when she was thinking.

"Can I…," the princess paused and bit her lip. She fidgeted for a moment, her bells chiming softly and then she sighed and sat down in her seat with graceless thump that was very unlike her. "Can I ask you something Master Lupin?"

"Of course, your highness," Remus assured her.

"Has my father lost his mind?" Her highness demanded with an angry huff.

"I beg your highness' pardon?" Remus' voice cracked.

"He's giving me away in marriage!" Princess Hermione's voice rang out angrily. "To the first idiot who manages to make me laugh!"

"He… worries," Remus muttered.

"He should!" The princess' voice rose to an angry shriek.

"He just… he wants you to be happy," Remus explained and then held out his hands in supplication. "I'm… I'm sorry, your highness."

"I'm happy," the princess protested in a sad voice that belied her words. She turned to look at Remus with her umber eyes and he swallowed hard. "I know that he… that all of you… want me to laugh and to smile, but I… I can't."

"Is it…," Remus cleared his throat. "Do you… do you know why?"

The princess shook her head and the little bells on her braids chimed. "No," she whispered. Her lips twisted. "One of my ladies-in-waiting thinks it must be a dark sorcerer."

Remus snorted at that. "Some sort of magic curse?" He asked disbelief thick in his voice.

"Lavender has always been given to flights of fancy," The princess sighed.

"Don't worry, your highness," Remus said. "We'll think of something."

The princess turned to stare at him for a moment. Her lips twitched, almost as though she was trying to smile, and she nodded at him.

"Thank you, Master Lupin. I will keep your words as a source of comfort," she replied in a soft voice.

/\/\/\/\/\

Word of Godric Gryffindor's pronouncement had spread far and wide. People poured into the capitol city of Hogwarts—each one convinced that he or she would be the one to make the Princess-Who-Couldn't-Smile laugh.

Day after day, week after week, Hermione was forced to sit on the public dais that the castle's craftspeople had erected in the courtyard. There were jugglers and jongleurs, tumblers and rope-dancers, commoners and the nobility, all competing to win Hermione's hand in marriage.

One morning, the Lady Luna was attending Hermione and helping her dress for another long day of people attempting the strange and the fantastic in an attempt to make her laugh. Hermione was exhausted just thinking about it. She dragged herself around her room with Lady Luna trailing after her.

"The nargles are even worse," Lady Luna said sadly. Hermione whirled on her and pointed a finger at her.

"Don't you dare," Hermione hissed. "If they burn all my bedding again, I will take over your rooms."

"Don't be silly, my lady," Lady Luna said with a shake of her head. "This should take care of everything."

With an air of great ceremony, Lady Luna placed something about her neck. Hermione hesitated to call it necklace. It certainly wasn't a torc or a rosary. Hermione picked it up and examined it carefully.

"Luna… are these, erm, beads made of cork?" Hermione demanded.

"Oh yes," Luna agreed. "There's a cork tree in Queen Cliodne's garden."

"There is?" Hermione could feel tears well in her eyes and she blinked them back.

Things that had belonged to her mother were few and far between. The cork bead necklace that Luna had given her to scare off nargles was preposterous, but Hermione couldn't help but feel as though her mother were with her when her fingers slid over the little rough beads.

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione whispered.

"Of course, my lady," Luna said with a bright smile. She patted Hermione's arm fondly.

/\/\/\/\/\

It had not been Sirius' week. Actually, it hadn't been Sirius' week for some time. He had been traveling for months. Lord Harry, the foster brother to the Princess Hermione, the Champion of Gryffindor, had ventured forth on a noble quest on behalf of his beloved foster sister. As Harry's godfather, Sirius had been compelled to go with Harry to help him.

Twelve years as a prisoner in an oubliette in the dungeons of the Dark Lord of Slytherin had forced Sirius to miss a lot of Harry's life. Now he was finally back in Gryffindor where he belonged. He should be focusing on recovering his life and making sure that his lands and his people were well.

Instead, all Sirius could think about was the fact that he had failed Remus when he had needed Sirius the most. When he wasn't wracked with guilt over his failures in regard to Remus, he was struck by the fact that the tiny Princess Hermione was now a grown woman who had more important things to worry about than one broken down old knight.

"What are you thinking about?" Remus asked in the silence of their room.

"How much I've failed you." Sirius' voice cracked.

"Hey," Remus protested. "None of that."

"You told me not to go," Sirius sighed. "You begged me, in fact."

"Don't do this, Sirius," Remus protested. "We promised to let it go. Remember?"

"It's all my fault," Sirius reminded him. "James. His lady wife. Y-you."

"How could we know that Peter was working for Slytherin bastard?" Remus tried to soothe Sirius.

"I thank the gods every day that you managed to escape with Harry," Sirius muttered. "It was the one thing that gave me comfort in that damn oubliette."

"It was your brother," Remus whispered. "Regulus sacrificed himself so that I could escape with Harry."

"The only good thing he ever did," Sirius grumbled. Remus didn't argue. He wrapped his arms about Sirius and held on, offering whatever comfort he could.

They lay there together in the dark for a while, Remus gently petting Sirius' hair.

"Tell me about your princess," Remus murmured.

Immediately, Sirius stiffened against him. "She's not mine,"

"She is why you sent me here," Remus stated calmly.

"She loves to learn," Sirius mumbled against Remus' skin. "The last couple of tossers tried to convince Godric that she shouldn't even be allowed to read. It was a waste of her time."

"Fuckers," Remus growled. "Her highness is blindingly brilliant. It would be a bigger waste to let that mind of hers rot."

"You like her," Sirius said with an air of wonder.

"So do you, you wanker," Remus retorted.

"Of course I do," Sirius agreed.

"What do you think about the king's plan?" Remus asked.

"Godric's an idiot," Sirius snorted. "And if her highness ends up married to someone she can't stand she'll have Godric's bollocks."

"It didn't seem the wisest plan," Remus muttered.

"Godric gets swept up in the excitement of the moment," Sirius explained. "That and he always gets a little irrational whenever the princess is involved."

"Come on," Remus said with a sigh. "Let's go get washed for your presentation to his grace."

The large tub was just big enough that Remus and Sirius could squeeze into it together. They scrubbed one another's backs and splashed each other playfully. It wasn't until Remus and Sirius climbed out of the wooden bathing tub that Fred and George struck.

Thick viscous honey poured over the both of them at the same time, sliding over their warm, damp skin. Remus shouted in surprise and both he and Sirius looked up at the same time.

"Sir Sirius! Master Lupin!" Fred and George chorused.

A flurry of goose feathers spun in the air and landed on them, sticking to the honey.

"Bloody, buggering fuck!" Sirius bellowed. "I'm supposed to present myself to the king!"

Both Fred and George laughed and took off.

"Come back here!" Remus yelled and ran after the twins.

/\/\/\/\/\

Absently, Hermione fingered the string of cork about her neck while she watched a very clumsy juggler. She leaned her cheek upon her hand and sighed. Next to her, her father frowned at the juggler.

"Next!" He called out in his deep, resonant voice.

"Father." Hermione turned to look at the king. "You don't have to do this, sire."

"All I want is for you to be happy, Hermione," Godric murmured. He paused and looked down at his hands. "Even if… even if this doesn't work, it gives everyone a chance to look their fill. Maybe they'll stop staring. Maybe they'll let you just… be."

Hermione hugged her father tightly. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, princess," Godric rumbled. He stiffened next to her. "What the—"

Hermione glanced in the direction her father was looking. Running as fast as they could, their long legs pumping frantically, were the squires Fred and George. Chasing them were what appeared to be two very large, very angry chickens. Hermione blinked in shock at the scene in front of her.

As the feathered creatures drew closer, she could hear the voice of her tutor, Master Lupin, swearing up a storm and threatening both Fred and George with highly improbable acts. The other creature bellowed with rage in a familiar way. With a start of surprise she realized that the other great chicken was none other than the Black Knight who usually appeared perfectly coifed and stylishly dressed.

A startled noise slipped out between her lips as Master Lupin reached out and almost caught one of the twins.

"What was that, Hermione?" Godric turned to his daughter with an expression of shock.

George, or maybe Fred, had the great misfortune to slip on a cow pat and land flat on his back with either Master Lupin or maybe Sirius Black giving a bloodcurdling scream and leaping on the offending twin. Another startled noise escaped Hermione, and Godric grinned widely at her.

"You're laughing!" He exclaimed.

"I am?" Hermione blinked up at her father.

"You are!" Godric crowed.

As the two feathery chicken-men began to throttle Fred and George, Hermione giggled helplessly until tears slid down her cheeks.

"Who made you laugh sweetheart?" Godric asked. Hermione hiccupped and turned to stare at her father with wide eyes.

Slowly, she turned back to the two feathered men.

"Both of the feathered people, Father," she told him decisively.

"Both?" Godric's voice squeaked slightly. "But… but Hermione—"

"I didn't come up with the idea of marrying me off," Hermione told him with a great deal of satisfaction. "That was all you. It was both of them, Father."

Godric huffed in irritation. "We'll have to figure it out, I guess," he muttered.

"I guess we will," Hermione agreed.