Joan Jett and The Black Heart

Bad Reputation

The muggles would have found the plume of black smoke strange indeed, had they been paying any attention to their back yard. As it was, the current residents of 65 Bluming Drive were preoccupied with music, pints, laughter and the whorl of teenage hormones connected with mingling sexes in a party atmosphere. It was Ashley Watts' 17th birthday, and her parents had given her permission to have this raucous until midnight. Of course, none of them could have known that Ashley's 17th birthday – September 9th – would also mark the auspicious occasion of a full-blown Death Eater attack on 65 Bluming Drive.

Ashley Watts had lived in a secure web all her life, believing that her father was a civil servant – a boring, but well-paid accountant for a banking firm in East London. She would have been mortified to learn he worked for the Ministry of Magic as a muggle relations liaison – after she learned exactly what a muggle was, of course. But she would have been even more mortified to learn his job made him a target of Lord Voldemort's plot to overthrow said Ministry, sever all ties with the muggle world, and perhaps even destroy that world all together.

For the moment, she was more concerned with whether or not she was going to snog Grahame Lowell, and if her best friend Stacy Newton – Grahame's ex-girlfriend – would hate her for it. Unfortunately, she would never find the answer to either of those questions.

There was mixed reaction to the menacing skull and snake mark suddenly above her split-level. Most of the blokes said, "Cool!" or "Awesome!" Most of the girls cried, "Gross!" or "What is that?" Ashley was terribly embarrassed, and felt that her evil little brother Terrance's name was all over this handiwork. She stormed into the house to call the aunt's house where her family was waiting out the party. They would hear her post-adolescent wrath for damned sure!

She had closed herself and the cordless in the loo to escape the din of punk rock music when her friend Nancy Gilchrist pounded on the door. "Ashley! Ashley, get out! There's some crazy goth bitch trashin' your sitting room!"

Ashley'd only punched the first button on the cordless. "Goth bitch?" She asked. Impossible. Ashley had no goth friends. They simply weren't…cool. Nancy was clearly mistaken. "Are you sure she's not emo?"

"Nah." Nancy wiggled the knob. "Her corset's real. You comin' out?"

Ashley slapped the cordless onto the counter. "Of bloody course I am!" One had to deal with party crashers, after all – especially loser goth ones. This was certainly not shaping up to be the party she'd dreamed of.

She twisted the bathroom doorknob when the screaming began. Joan Jett had just begun wailing Bad Reputation as she squalled down the hall. Stupid weirdos would not ruin Ashley Watts' birthday party. Ever.

I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!

She blew around the corner, the expensive blonde extensions her mother had gifted her flying across her enraged face. A vase crashed against the wall just above her head. "Christ above!" Ashley squealed and ducked.

You're livin' in the past it's a new generation!

A mad cackle met her squeal and raised it. Ashley looked up from her crouch, peering underneath her elbow. There was a madwoman in her sitting room – a ghastly mess of curly black hair atop her head swinging as though electrified. And she was throwing things, even people – no, not throwing things. Somehow, she was simply…directing objects and friends through the air. "What the bloody fuck?" Ashley shouted.

A girl can do what she wants to do

And that's what I'm gonna do!

An arc of blood slashed across the teen's open mouth as the attacker noticed her and turned. Ashley, bent and spitting someone else's blood on her mother's white carpet, did not notice the dark figure approaching. A fire started in the kitchen, and when the birthday girl looked up, wide, black eyes stared back.

And I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!

"BOO!" The goth screamed. A muttered word and a slash of the bent stick she wielded, and Ashley felt a burn spread across her cheek.

Oh no not me!

"Ouch! Stupid…witch!" She lashed out at the intruder, shoving blindly past the pain on her face. "Who the fuck are you? Get out of my party!"

No no no no no no

Not me me me me me

A wailing cackle met her ears. The lunatic grabbed Ashley's jumper and hurled her to the middle of the sitting room where mother's glass-top table was shattered into thousands of pieces. "It's my party now, filthy muggle! CRUCIO!"

An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!

Ashely had never experienced true pain. Her screams were sugar-coated chocolate bliss to the maniac crouching atop her. Through the haze of agony, the girl heard other screams, smelled fire and blood, thought of the wars they discussed in her history classes and managed to laugh ironically.

Never said I wanted to improve my station!

The intruder produced a short but elaborate blade and tore Ashley's Bebe jumper. The blade produced piercing, clarifying pain on Ashley's bared chest as the words 'mudblood slut' appeared across her modest breasts. "Please!" The girl screamed, grappled with her attacker's bony arms. Her struggles only made the torture worse.

An' I'm only doin' good

When I'm havin' fun

An' I don't have to please no one!

The intruder leaned close to her. "Please what, muddy mudblood?"

An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!

"Please stop," Ashley wept. "It hurts!"

Oh no, not me!

Oh no, not me!

"That's the point, girly girl!" The psycho sliced the side of Ashley's face, sniffed, then licked the wound. At the teen's ear, she hissed. "Where's your daddy, dahling? I need a word with him."

"My – my dad?" A police siren could be heard approaching. Relief flooded Ashley's clenched belly. "HELP!" She shouted.

I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation!

Never been afraid of any deviation!

Blue lights flooded the sitting room. The attacker looked up, startled. "Damn. Hate to cut this short, muddy. But I've gotta go."

And I don't really care

If you think I'm strange!

I ain't gonna change!

She glared down at the bloody, traumatized girl. "That mean's you've gotta go too, lovey. Happy birthday!" She raised the bent stick. Her eyes reflected the fire. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

And I'm never gonna care

'bout my bad reputation!

She stepped over the corpse, through the flames and onto the demolished back patio. Grabbing the obnoxious muggle music device off the bench by the door, the intruder dissolved into black smoke and rose into the night sky…

I Love Rock n' Roll

Draco walked into the Malfoy kitchen to the sounds of banging, growling and cursing. Obviously, Aunt Bella was up. "What the devil are you doing, you loose-witted hell-slag?" He asked as he strolled past her.

She was bent over something on the counter, wrestling with it. "Minding my own fucking business, you useless little tow-headed twat."

He rolled his eyes and waved his wand over the French press. Coffee was in order before one could adequately deal with Aunt Bella. "That better not be another muggle baby or forest creature. Mum's tired of cleaning up after you." He leaned against the opposite counter in gray satin pajamas.

She slammed the thing to the counter and leveled an abhorring gaze at him. "You dwarfish fop... Did Cissy tell you that while you ate her out last night, prick boy?"

He shrugged and spooned sugar into his cup. "Maybe." He looked at the now battered object. "Is that a muggle stereo?"

She jumped back from him and the thing. "I dunno! Is it?"

"Looks like it. Where'd you get it?"

"Where d'you think?"

He winced. "Is that blood on it?"

She blew a coil of hair out of her face. "Probably. It doesn't work."

Draco sighed. "It probably won't work because of our wards. Are you daft? Muggle shite doesn't work here, you blowsy bint."

Suddenly lunging across the counter, she poked him in the chest. "Fuck you, you stool-slurping son of a monkey's butler!"

He chuckled. "Calm down, Auntie! You'll spill my coffee."

She settled back over the CD player. "I'll spill your blood."

"I bet you will." Draco sipped his beverage, watched her toy with the device. He sighed. "Alright. Let's have a look, then."

She grinned her happy grin and slid the player across the white marble to him. When she leaned over to watch him work, her breasts threatened to burst from her torn corset. He couldn't help but notice. He was a teenaged boy, for fuck's sake!

But he tore his eyes from ample cleavage long enough to study the designs on the muggle music box. "Hm." He flipped it over, popped the battery casing from the back. "Hm." He studied the batteries, then re-inserted them. "Hm."

Bella groaned. "Hell, I probably could have had it fixed by now, stupid boy!"

He scowled at her, then pressed the button with the arrow on it. Music erupted. Loud music. They both started, grabbed for the contraption to silence it.

I saw him dancin' there by the record machine

Knew he must have been about seventeen

"Too loud!" Draco shouted.

"I know!" Bella retorted, giggling just the same. "I told you it played music!"

The beat was goin' strong

Playin' my favorite song

"You call that music?" This shout came from the kitchen's open archway. The guilty parties turned to see Narcissa Malfoy pull her wand. She muttered a spell and the volume lowered.

And I could tell it wouldn't be long

Til he was with me, yeah me

She approached the stereo cautiously, wand still raised. Draco put his hand on hers, lowering it. "It's perfectly safe, mum. Just a muggle music box Bella found."

I love rock n' roll

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

"It's offensive to the ear," Narcissa grumbled. She took Draco's coffee cup and began drinking it. "And is that blood on it?" She gestured to the player.

He smiled so I got up and asked for his name

That don't matter, he said,

Cuz it's all the same.

Draco grinned. Bella rubbed at the blood with her sleeve. "There," she groused. "Better?"

Said can I take you home

Where we can be alone

Narcissa curled her lip at the device, leaned up and whispered in her son's ear. Draco's cheeks pinkened a little.

Next we were movin' on

And he was with me, yeah me!

Bella's head stopped bobbing listlessly in time to see her sister leading her nephew from the kitchen by his hand. He caught her eye and she made a gagging gesture. He flipped her a rude gesture of his own, to which she pointed and mouthed, "You! Not me!"

Then he was gone, doubtless off to the bed of his twisted, demanding, incestuous nymphomaniac mother. Bella shook her head and waved her wand over the French press. "And people call me crazy," she thought.

And we'll be movin' on and singin' that same old song

Yeah, with me, singin'

Boisterously, Bella joined the chorus, clapping her hands over her head and twirling.

"I love rock n' roll! So put another dime in the jukebox, baby! I love rock n' roll! So come and take your time and dance with ME!" She screamed her witchy laugh, and pressed another button on the player.

Oh, look good in latex
Get off having rough sex
Surprise, round and round the bed
Restrained while I fuck your head

Bella knew her joyful cackle resounded throughout the manor and hardly cared. "Whoever this singing muggle is, she has potential." Bella thought. "I won't kill her maybe." She twisted knobs til she found the volume, and cranked it up as high as it would go...

AN: I always need a breather after I update 'Hands of the Sisters.' This is the type of Bella I'm good at. I bow before Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. The songs Bad Reputation, I Love Rock n' Roll and Fetish belong to her. If you haven't heard them before now...you know your assignment.