Harry Potter and the Clash of the Subcultures

NOTE: I have nothing against Goths. I myself have occasionally be classed a Goth and it neither bothers nor upsets me. Many people's opinions differ on what makes someone 'Goth' besides a penchant for black and an inclination to sit around with other Goths.

However, I DO have a problem with mallgoths, quasigoths, shockgoths and Doom and Gloom Cookies who don't admit that they are mallgoths, baby bats, shockgoths and Doom and Gloom Cookies. And ANY type of Goth who calls themselves 'Darkness' without a reason. 'It's cool' isn't a reason. Putting a random apostrophe in it for no reason doesn't change this fact.

I wrote this story as a sort-of fable for the younger sister of my friend Ashes (Her sister is six and decided to be a Goth. Which I don't disagree with. But Ashes wanted to make sure her sister understood the mallgoth risks, and I wanted to write something stupid about Harry Potter. A match made in Heaven.)

P.S. Ashes is allowed to go by 'Ashes' because 1) Her real name is Ashleigh, 2) She didn't give herself that nickname and 3) I said so.

WARNING: The following story contains metaphorical canon rape, mallgoth bashing, some stuff that makes Harry Potter sound a bit stupid and general weirdness.

DISCLAIMER: Surely you know what these mean by now?

Harry awoke with his head pressed upon the glass of the train window. He straightened his head and realised that he was looking at his two best friends, Hermione and Ron (obviously). But they were not as he remembered them. For Ron was…a Goth! Harry shook his head in disbelief, but Ron remained the same eyeliner wearing, foundation-slathered, nose-pierced mallgoth.

"Alright, mate?" queried the Ron-Goth.

"Er, Ron-?" Harry ventured.

"Ah-ah, I'm "Dark'ness" now. Cool, huh?"

"Um, sure, whatever," gabbled Harry, "Um, what happened to you?"

"Oh, isn't it wicked?" asked Ron-Goth-Dark'ness, in a most un-Gothly fashion, "I found my TRUE SELF! I am Dark'ness of the Burrow!"

"How does your mum feel about this?"

"Oh, she totally doesn't UNDERSTAND where I'm COMING FROM. She just doesn't GET me or my INDIVIDUALITY," emphasized Ron-Goth-Dark'ness, "You know, my need to be different from all the other LOSERS around here."

"The losers who used to be your friends?" pointed out Hermione, although she too appeared to be wearing a large amount of eyeliner, kohl and black velvet, MAKING HER A HYPOCRITICAL BITCH (take note Ashes.)

"Oh, they don't get me either."

"Ron-"

"Dark'ness!"

"You haven't even seen any of them yet," said Hermione.

Just then, with perfect timing, Dean Thomas, Katie Bell and some other equally unimportant Gryffindors whose names the author forgets entered their compartment (without knocking. Rude pigs).

"Hey Harry, Hermione-RON?"

"Yes, 'tis I. But I am known as Dark'ness now. Aren't going to ignore and hate me for my appearance and other tiny-minded reasons?" snarled Ron-Goth-Dark'ness.

"Um, no," said Katie Bell.

"Ha!" spat Ron-Goth-Dark'ness, before she had actually finished her sentence. "I see through your pathetic lies! You hate me for my pale looks, ideologies you claim to be twisted and talon-like nails! You hate me for having the courage to rebel! You have classed me an outcast without getting to know the REAL ME. You just don't want to upset me because you suspect me of being a member of the Trench Coat Mafia!"

(N.F.A. [note from author: The Trench Coat Mafia is nothing to joke about. The Columbine Massacre was a terrible, horrific event. Repeat after me, America: GUNS ARE BAD! Carrying or owning a gun is dangerous! "The 2nd Amendment!" I hear you cry! Well, in case you hadn't noticed that was written in 1791! That's not really relevant today! Grrr…)

"But you were always fairly pale!" cried Unimportant Gryffindor  1

"I disagree with many ideologies, but I don't hate them just because of the people they are associated with!" cried Unimportant Gryffindor  2

"I like your nails!" cried Unimportant Gryffindor  3

"You aren't rebelling! You're exactly the same every other mallgoth in the world (N.F.A.: except those nutty mallgoths in Japan. They are really, properly mad. They are the Harijuku folk! Yay, Harijuku guys! Yay, tricky Japanese words I can't spell!)!" cried Unimportant Gryffindor  4.

"Humph," exhaled Ron-Goth-Dark'ness.

Draco Malfoy appeared behind the Gryffindors, accompanied, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle.

"MWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA-HA!" he cackled, partly because the author can't think of anything else for him to say, mostly because the author likes tapping the 'H' and 'A' keys repeatedly.

Then he snarled menacingly at the room in general, and walked off to his compartment. (Like he always does. Never sticks around much, does he, Draco? Odd. I've never met anyone who was that much of a bastard and didn't hang around to see the aftermath of his insults. And I have met many bastards. Hmm.)

"Right, then," drawled Hermione, bemused. "OK, so Ron—"

"DARK'NESS." Interrupted Ron-Goth-Dark'ness.

"Yes," said Hermione, making a mental note not to address Ron by name until this was dealt with, "You don't think that you're being…well, superficial?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he replied indignantly, as though he actually knew what superficial, but didn't want to admit that he didn't, so he was making it sound like a crappy come-back line.

"Well, plastic and just after the look, not the actual idea of Goth?"

"…………"said Ron-Goth-Dark'ness, unsure of what to say in return. Lee Jordan interjected in an out-of-place manner. (Does that a lot, doesn't he, Lee? No-one's talking, so Jordan just says something for the sheer hell of it. Even though it's not his conversation. And it wasn't mentioned that he was in the room. Even if its been mentioned he's unconscious in the hospital wing or something.)

"Well, I think he is!" taking a stand on a subject he clearly knows nothing about. "I think that it's clear that he's not a real Goth!"

"How would you know?" cried Katie Bell, who, as usual, seemed to be the only person who's realised that. "You aren't a Goth, Lee! And neither are you, Hermione! I am shouting for reason, like a complete twat!"

"Yes, true," agreed the room in general, as well as most of the readers. Katie snarled at Lee. Lee snarled at Katie. They continued to snarl until the train pulled into the school station. The student made their way to the rowing boats, despite being in the 4/5/6th year (it's unclear which, as it's a Fanfiction), so they should really be on the thestral-drawn carriages. (One more thing: didn't Harry see Lily die? Shouldn't he have always been able to see the threstals?)

The usual feast ensued, with Ron-Goth-Dark'ness being irritating and muttering under his breath about preps, thinking that everyone was staring at his Gothness, but, in fact, they weren't even looking in his direction, and he was just being paranoid.

'Hello, and welcome back to our older student, and welcome to our Freshmen (what do you mean, Hogwarts isn't in the U.S. and Dumbledore isn't American? Are you kidding me? He's the greatest

wizard of all time! Of course he's from Good Ol' America! Probably even a Texan!)!"

"This year the corridor will be out of bounds!" (Hang on, this seems familiar…)

"This has happened before, hasn't it?" asked Harry, while Ron-Goth-Dark'ness snarled some more.

"Yes, but this is a Fanfiction, so the author will undoubtedly use some clever disguise to make it seem like an entirely new plotline…" said Hermione.

"Yes," continued Dumbledore, "the corridor on the FOURTH floor is strictly out of bounds to any students who do not wish to suffer a most painful death!"

"…Or, if you like, not that clever…"

So? What do you think? In the highly unlikely event that anyone actually WANTS to hear anymore on this subject, I may write another chapter. If no-one reviews, or it gets completely ignored and gets no hits, or people flame me to Lucifer's feet and back, then I'll just allow it to sit on my account for a bit.

Yours, awaiting your thoughts and grateful for your time,

Airport Monkey :-)