I promise I don't usually bite troll bait, but this is ridiculous. It's a good thing JK Rowling's not dead, because she'd be rolling in her grave. Like many before me, I have to fix it. So here is My Immortal, my way. I would actually prefer it if you didn't read this. Close your eyes.

A word of warning: I probably sound extremely coarse concerning things that shouldn't really be mocked. I mean no insult when I get to the bits about self-mutilation, call girls, or the nature of the goth scene.

Standard disclaimers, with the addition of Tara Something, etc.

W

One.

AN: Special thanks to my girlfriend Raven for helping me with the story and spelling. You rock! Justin you're the love of my life, you rock too! MCR rocks! Everybody rocks!

Hi. My name is Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Black Black Black Way. I have long black hair and icy blue eyes. I'm a vampire. I'm a witch. I'm a goth. I think elegant description is preppy. Wasn't I just a disaster waiting to happen?

I was having a pleasant stroll around the lake, since the weather was awesome: both snowy and rainy. Which was really lucky, actually, because if the sun shone in the daytime I'd sparkle like a bad acid trip and that would just suck.

Ha. Geddit? Suck?

'Hey, Ebony!' Somebody called. I looked up. Draco was running toward me, waving his hand and grinning.

'What's up, Draco?' He did one of those rapid mood swings, this particular episode featuring exuberance and then bashfulness.

'Nothing,' he said, ducking his head and shuffling a shoe in the dirt. Not particularly interested in a conversation with a guy I secretly worshiped like a blonde Zeus - no, wait, Zeus is preppy, so maybe Hades - I pretended to hear somebody call my name from across the grounds and skipped away.

AN: I'd like to waste an author's note on bad grammar and a stupid pun.

Two.

AN: I have a quota. There must be at least one author's note before, after, and somewhere within each chapter. And I'm not allowed to say intelligent things in these notes. Sharp animal teeth for the beta, Raven! And stupid prep losers stop flaming, you know this is the best fic you've ever read in your pink, daisy-filled lives!

The next day I woke up in my bedroom, which was weird because I'd gone to sleep in a lava-pit of death. Yesterday's leftover snow and rain flurried and plummeted, respectively, outside my window. I smiled again at the nice weather, hopped out of my ridiculously gothic coffin and downed a bottle of blood I'd nicked from Professor Snape's stash. Then I had entirely too much fun dolling myself up for no particular reason.

Willow [AN: Raven, if you don't know this is you then you're a dumb prep] woke up then. 'Why are you doing your makeup here and not in the bathroom where you can see yourself?'

'I don't need to see myself.' I said proudly. That was how much I did my makeup. Willow smiled like that was totally awesome, rolled out of bed and put on some gothic clothes. We were doing a protest against uniforms with pretty much the whole student body and roughly half the staff; the stupid robes were wizard-wear, and wizard-wear was so last season on the goth scene.

'So,' Willow said coyly, pulling out her own makeup bag and doing her lips (she didn't quite get them perfectly like I did mine) to prove she was cool like me. 'I saw you talking to Draco Malfoy yesterday.'

'Yeah.' I said, blushing under my foundation (because I have this special power of being able to blush that sets me apart from other, lesser vampires). 'So?'

'So do you like him?' She demanded as we went into the Great Hall, which we magically moved to the other side of the common room door because we were really way too gothic to walk that far.

'I so fucking do not!' I howled, doing a rapid mood swing like Draco had done yesterday.

'Yeah, right!' She shouted right back. Then, her part in the scene done, she conveniently flickered out of existence and was replaced by Draco.

'Hi.' Draco said, with that totally gothic way with words he has.

'Hi.' I batted my eyelashes and made my icy blues really, really big.

'Guess what.' The effort was wasted on him.

'What?' I pouted.

'Good Charlotte are having a concert in Hogsmead.'

I screamed like a little girl. Oh, my Santa! Good Charlotte were playing in a little wizarding village in the middle of nowhere! They must be going Indie! That was so gothic! But they were so mainstream that the wizarding community knew about them! That was even more gothic! Oh, my Santa!

'I want you to go with me.'

I gasped dramatically.

Three.

AN: So I flubbed the last post's quota. I'll make it up eventually. And maybe it'll help if I use progressively worse spelling and grammar. Really sharp animal teeth for betaing, Raven! Other sharp animal teeth to all the goths who are pretending to like my story because they want to see how god-awful it can really get! Preps, you're just jealous! Oh, and I don't own the lyrics to Good Charlotte's Chronicles of Life and Death; you can tell because the spelling is waaaaaay better. I just copied and pasted.

The night of the concert gave me bona fide excuse to dress myself up like a call girl straight out of a Halloween costume catalogue, although after I'd put it all on I felt suddenly depressed because my author thought her readers might take me for a prep if I didn't. So I had to make myself bleed and then read a depressing book like all sane people do after self-mutilating. Then I did my makeup, chugged some blood to kill fic-time, and was ready for the concert.

Draco was waiting by his car when I got to the secret place my author never names where it's perfectly in accordance with school rules to keep a gothic flying car. Actually, I don't really know why he drives a magicked Muggle car if he's such a pureblood-ethnocentrist, but he does and he's hot so I don't care.

'Hi, Draco,' I droned sadly.

'Hey, Ebony.' He droned sadly. We walked into the car, stubbed our toes on the tires, swore violently, and opened the doors. GC was blasting and the joint was lit before we even lifted off. You should try flying a car when you're toking. It's friggin' trippy, and somehow you never hit anything or fall out of the sky. The GC CD was peppered with Marilyn Manson, which would have been an odd combination if we weren't so gothic and baked.

I was surprised, even in my state, to discover that Good Charlotte were playing in a club that had magically sprouted out of the ground next to the Hog's Head. Draco and I wove through the crowd, headed for the mosh pit, which was oddly located at the front of the crowd. We jumped up and down like people who have never been in a mosh pit before.

"You come in cold, you're covered in blood

They're all so happy you've arrived

The doctor cuts your cord, hands you to your mom

She sets you free into this life."

[AN: I already said I don't own the lyrics.]

'Joel is so fucking hot,' I shouted to Draco over the din, pointing at the singer in case he didn't know which one Joel was.

Draco looked sad, and I was perplexed. What kind of alien doesn't like to be told by his date that some other guy is fucking hot? Oh, wait, shit!

'Well, I don't like him better than you, stupid!' I said.

'Really?' Draco asked, managing somehow to look all vulnerable and uncertain while jumping up and down in a mosh pit. Then he put his arm around me and we hopped awkwardly together.

'Duh. I don't even know the guy. Besides, he likes preps.' I shuddered.

The weed got to my head, so I don't much remember the rest of the concert. I do know it was a really good time; the best nights are the ones you can't remember! I also know we got Joel and Benji to sign our asses and take photos with us - such goth guys. After the concert I think we drank.

Which was probably how we ended up in the Forbidden Forest.

Four.

AN: No, I'm not spelling my character's name wrong! And no, I'm not spelling it wrong again in this note! What the hell is a Mary Sue, you preppy idiots? Draco is so madly, deeply, and TOTALLY in love with Ebony that he's gone and switched with his bipolar, fake-goth twin!

'Draco!' I screamed as we flew just above the tree line. 'Why the fuck are we in the Forbidden Forest?'

Draco didn't answer, but he did stop the car and walk out. Which was kind of stupid as he hadn't landed. The fall was kind of long. But it was okay, he popped back up like a weasel. Amazed at his feat, I walked out on midair too, fell, and sprang back up. It was super gothic.

'What the fucking hell?' I demanded. How did we do that?

'Ebony?' He asked. His tone of voice sobered me immediately. Well, it made the world sort of narrow to him, anyway.

'What?' I snapped, annoyed at the tunnel vision.

Draco leaned in extra close, and I mean extra close. Close enough that I was staring into the depths of his smouldering red Muggle contact lenses, which radiated despair and evil. Or maybe that just the colour. I had another miniature MPD episode and stopped being cross.

And then he climbed on top of me like an animal. It was so hot. My back was hitting the tree behind me with every thrust. We didn't even get around to taking off our clothes until about halfway through.

'Oh, my god, oh, my god, ohmygoooood,' I muttered for show, concentrating. I thought I was getting an orgasm… no, wait… was that a hint of an orgasm? Oh. Oh, man. That was an or-

'What the fuck are you fucking doing, you fucking motherfuckers?'

The orgasm vanished like a sneeze that's been shocked away. Draco and I stopped dead, our two heads peeking out of a pile of limbs in a bigger pile of leaves at the tall figure not two feet away.

It was Dumbledore! What the fuck was he doing in the Forest in the middle of the night? More importantly, why was he so extraordinarily out of character, saying shit like that?

'We…' Draco said into the silence. 'were… looking for unicorns?'

Five.

AN: Stop flaming, dammit! Flamers are preps and posers, and you don't want to be preps, do you? Preps are Antichrist! So what if I suck at keeping people in character! I won't tell the rest of my epic cool goth story until you give me a cookie for being epic cool gothic!

Dumbledore made us follow him back to school, yelling awkwardly over his shoulder. I wondered briefly if he was high too. 'You ludicrous fools! You dim-witted gerbils! You -' and on and on, so beside himself that he couldn't even formulate an insult that didn't consist of one adjective and one noun. Draco and I followed behind meekly, wondering at his vocabulary and hoping the car hadn't drifted into a tree somewhere. I started to cry at the thought, making sure the tears were making dramatic bloody streaks down my face so that Draco would put his arm around my shoulder again. We walked a little drunkenly.

Professors Snape and McGonagall were waiting in Dumbledore's office. It seemed like Dumbledore had made a special trip just to apprehend us. What a jerk. Why is everybody out to get a super-gorgeous fake goth like me? My life is so unfair.

'These troublesome ingrates were engaging in sexual intercourse!' Dumbledore yelled, his voice cracking slightly from overuse. 'In the Forbidden Forest! Gah!' He threw up his hands. Draco and I stood just inside the door together, hanging our heads.

'Why,' McGonagall asked, lips pursed, 'would you do such a thing, you mediocre dunces?' Wow. These people were running out of adjectives and nouns.

'How dare you?' Snape asked, giving up on the theme altogether.

Draco exploded, quite suddenly and absurdly, making me jump: 'BECAUSE I LOVE HER!'

The silence was deafening. A pin dropped somewhere in the dungeons. Dumbledore retained his madcap scowl, and McGonagall's lips were so pressed they might not exist in another minute, but Snape sighed.

'All right. Fine. You are free to go.'

'What?' His colleagues demanded in tandem.

'What, what?' Snape spread his hands helplessly. 'Malfoy's in love with our Mary Sue. Everyone knows that Mary Sue can never get in real trouble or be disliked by anyone or one-upped in any way at all. There's nothing to be done.'

The adults made various noises of discontent and glared at the two of us. I looked at Draco, and back at them.

'Who's Mary sue?'

I think I forgot the bit after that. You know how being high is like riding waves? Well, a wave hit me then, and I never got the answer to my question. I came back down again on the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon, to the sound of our footsteps scuffing the stone steps as one in the night.

'Are you okay, Ebony?' Draco asked quietly.

'Yeah.' I said. I should have been. I'd just been caught fornicating in the Forbidden Forest by none other than Albus Dumbledore and got off scot-free. I'd just had animal sex with the boy I loved. The boy I loved had just said he loved me. But I was having a really hard time trying to come up with something to be depressed about, and it was pissing me off. Draco winced at my tone and tried to follow me into the girls' wing, but got zapped by an invisible force because boys aren't supposed to go in the girls' wing, dammit.

I changed into an ornate gothic dress and high heels no one in their right mind would wear to sleep. I combed my hair. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. All the while I pondered over the events of the night, wondering most of all who on earth was Mary Sue. Sighing with the futility, I left the bathroom.

And almost ran into Draco. How the hell had he -

'I need an alarm system in my house,' he crooned.

So I know when people are creeping about

These people are freaking me out (these days)

It's getting hectic everywhere that I go

They wont leave me alone

There's things they all wanna know.'

Oh, Draco! So inappropriate, why would you pick that song for this moment, and why do you think the situation calls for a song, but you're singing to me! I ran to him and threw my arms around him and we kissed. My foot popped and everything. It was so romantic and uber-gothic, all my problems just flew right out of my mind, and even when we reluctantly parted I forgot to remember about Mary Sue Who.

Afterword: My God, that was liberating. I should do this more often. By the way, those of you who are actually reading, what the hell would I call this? A crack-fic? A satire? Help me out, I don't know what the hell to put in the summary.