Author’s Note: This is a new interactive project for me, one that I take on with excitement and joy. Leave advice you’d like answered by Luna in your review, email, or PM and I’ll try to work it in. Note that advice given by Luna, unfortunately, cannot be taken seriously. This is a work of fiction.

Love, Luna
Chapter One: Destroyer of Pretty Girls

Dear Luna,

Would it be acceptable to completely sabotage someone’s relationship by leaving the girl with hair extensions that randomly turn into fruitflies and stranding her in the middle of an uncharted landmass, say, Antarctica so that the boy can fall hopelessly in love with me?

-Destroyer of Pretty Girls

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Destroyer of Pretty Girls,

My, it seems like we’re a bit bitter towards a fellow female, doesn’t it?

I would have to answer no, Destroyer, and I’ll tell you why.

Revenge is rarely as sweet as you think. Sometimes, it may even turn on you. For example, what if you were sitting near this girl and suddenly, her hair erupts in a cloud of flies? Or what if you read in the Quibbler, England’s most trustworthy magazine, that a stranger in Antarctica suddenly stumbled on a colony of now-extinct Milky Zapspit Mongerers?

I shall tell you my own personal experience with revenge. It reached my ears, in my Hogwarts days, that Ron and Hermione had begun dating. They were just rumours, true, but strong emotions stirred in me. So I set about planning my revenge on Hermione Granger.

Well, I’d heard of Hermione’s campaign to free house-elves. I’d overheard Ron talk (exasperatedly, I’m happy to say) about Hermione’s obsession over making hats and socks for the house-elves.

Immediately, I thought of the ingenious plan: why not sabotage Hermione Granger, the smart, beautiful Gryffindor’s efforts?

I asked Father to send me some Woolyshucks from Argentina. They’d only recently been discovered by him, so I was sure even the book-smart Hermione Granger wouldn’t have heard of them. After only a few questions I quickly avoided answering, he sent me about ten of them in a tiny parcel.

For those who weren’t fortunate enough to read the fascinating article (January edition of 1993), Woolyshucks are notorious for eating clothing, particularly those made of yarn and wool. The Woolyshucks, surprisingly, resemble dust bunnies. However, they are NOT harmless and should be treated with extreme care. They have been attributed to have caused many a sock to go missing.

Well, I placed one on Ginny Weasley’s hair (Woolyshucks, to eradicate any myths, do not cause those bald spots. To get rid of those, simply rub a Hairy Snorklepuff in the area.). Fortunately, the Woolyshucks hopped off after munching on her robes only a little bit. The poor Woolyshucks never made it back to my hands as, I am told, it greedily went after a loose piece of yarn that had fallen into the fireplace. The next day, after hearing Hermione’s excited chatter, I knew the martyred Woolyshucks did its duty.

I sent in two more Woolyshucks, and both were successful, from the conversations I overheard. After my third Woolyshuck, I began to get worried. Did the Woolyshuck really do its duty? The night I was to send the fourth Woolyshuck, I was dismayed to hear that the real culprit responsible for the missing hats and socks was Dobby the house-elf. I listened half-heartedly as Hermione complained about Dobby’s stock of all her socks and hats. Events took a turn for the worse when I heard Ron accuse Hermione of stealing his socks and giving them to Dobby.

My Woolyshucks, I’d learned, did nothing to help my cause. Not only had I caused the love of my life Ron Weasley an epidemic of lost socks, I, too, suffered from sock shortage. The Woolyshucks, which I kept in my chest in a small box, had eaten away a number of my robes, undergarments, and socks. When Ron actually began talking to me a two years after this episode, I was, of course, too afraid to mention what had happened. To this day, he has absolutely no idea. But now, let’s keep it between us, shall we?

Ah, I can see you’re still unsatisfied. Well, if you’re still bent on revenge, let’s make it a bit more tactful, shall we?

Let’s see…I suggest that you expand your revenge a bit more. For example, why stop at hair extensions? In fact, why give this girl pretty hair? Why not remove it altogether? There are several Hair Removal Creams for sale at Zonko’s and Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Choose from a wide selection, varying from “Bald and Bearded: Hair Growth in all the Wrong Places� to “Zap-a-Hair: Hair Loss in a Flash and a Bang.�

Do away with the flies. Flies make it awfully complicated and can even end up attracting your beau. What if the bloke was secretly a toad transformed into a man? Might I suggest infesting your nemesis’ hair (should she prove to be unaffected by the Weasley products) with nargles? They are usually found within mistletoe, triggering the infamous “kiss-under-the-mistletoe� symptom. Should you infect someone with them, the victim will have a sudden desire to kiss any who approach him or her. It’s usually desirable to accompany the infected girl and oblivious boy on a walk in a public park.

As to leaving the girl on an uncharted landmass, might I point out that the Quibbler has indeed printed out a map of Antarctica, ranging from the most severe drought areas to the best Waterlatch Pinefoot-catching location. If the girl had subscriptions to our magazine, which I’m sure she does, she would know exactly what to do should a blizzard hit her tent, sending Scathing Numlucks in her direction. I believe currently, though, we do not have a chart for Neptune. I suggest you send her there instead, though it’s very useless, in my expert opinion, to go through the trouble of infecting her with nargles and then shipping her off to a desolate planet with no one to snog.

I hope my advice helps in your quest for love, Destroyer. Remember, if you can’t find love on this planet, Mars is always looking to repopulate their shrinking numbers.

Love,
Luna

-This message is brought to you by Zap-a-Hair: Hair Loss in a Flash and a Bang. Too much hair? Too much trouble? Too much time? Then purchase Zap-A-Hair, the only hair loss product you’ll ever need for the rest of your life! Available at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Hairlossispermanent.Weasley’sWizardingWheezesisnotresponsibleforanyandallside-effects-
includingbutnotlimitedtonausea,skinirritation,bowelmovement,and/orpurplescales.-

Author’s Note: Thank you, Oppungo, for this installment of Love, Luna and for being my guinea pig.

Author’s Notes: Thank you, avenger_of_dumbldore, for this topic.

Love, Luna
Chapter 2 – Fashion Disaster

Dear Luna,

I am a complete mess. I need to impress my potential boss at an interview at Hogwarts. What should I wear?! I mean, I have gold, silver, pearls, and even white gold all over the place. On top of that, my darling friend Laguna Leslie from Witch Weekly has promised to lend me her entire wardrobe for this! But how will I know if something clashes with the other or doesn’t match – Oh Luna! Lend me your wisdom!

- Fashion Disaster

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Fashion Disaster,

I can’t very well lend you my wisdom seeing as how I have no idea how you’ll return it. I will, however, give you advice since this is an advice column. And besides, you’ve come to the queen of fashion.

First, I’d like to give you my credentials in the fashion industry. In Hogwarts, girls always stared at me enviously as I passed. My radish earrings were the talk of the school! I was also able to magick a lion-headed hat to roar at the Quidditch games. Professor McGonagall loved it so much, she named me commentator!

Over the summers of my time at Hogwarts, I spent much time traveling with my father. You won’t believe how popular my choices in fashion have been among natives we encountered! If you ever stumble on Amazonians with purple teacups on their heads or two cords of neon green yarn crossed on their chests, do tell them “Alleeyalala-booboo!� for me.

I also almost got a job with Witch Weekly. I’d seen an ad they put out, looking for fashion advice columnists. Ron encouraged me to go for it, explaining that it would be better for the Minister of Magic if his sister-in-law worked at a more prominent magazine than the Quibbler. However, when I got to the headquarters, I saw some witches who worked there walk around in the most disastrous robes I’ve ever seen. No wonder they needed fashion advice.

My outfit for my interview was splendid, though I can’t take all the credit for it. I wore all black. My plain robes buttoned straight down my torso, and my neck was practically covered by the collar. The bottom part of the robes flared out when I walked – a very powerful look, I believe, it gave me. You won’t imagine how much time I spent swishing about in front of my mirror.

If you went to Hogwarts around the same time as me, you’d know exactly who I looked like. That’s right. Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater then ex-Order member. I’d always admired him for his ability to intimidate others into giving him exactly what he wants. Granted, it was probably because he was known to be an ex-Death Eater and because he was a professor, but I was sure I could pull his look off. I had even considered changing my hair colour to match his, but I didn’t want to be mistaken for a wanted man.

The people who saw me enter obviously loved my outfit; their eyes were wide open in gawking surprise. Some of them hid their mouths behind their hands – apparently they were trying their best to keep their words of praise inside, for it would not do to make others feel bad about their own outfits. Now that I think about it, I shouldn’t have worn this outfit. Some may have been offended that a newcomer was dressed better than themselves!

When the Laguna girl you mentioned came to me in the frilliest, pinkest shenanigan I’ve ever seen, my mouth began to turn upwards in a grin, but I stopped and thought. Professor Snape had never smiled at us. He’d always had a superior look about him, and he always sneered. Truthfully, I wasn’t a big fan of this, but if I wanted the job, I’d have to begin thinking like Snape. There must’ve been something about that man that enticed Professor Dumbledore to defy reason and hire him, and I was about to find out what that something was.

So instead, I turned the corners of my mouth downward and lifted my chin. I bared a few teeth in a snarl and nodded.

I followed her into her office, whose walls were adorned with moving pictures of angular women suffering a severe case of the Wiggidybong (I could tell, for they were striking random and awkward poses on their canvases much like Professor Lockhart, the most famous patient with Wiggidybong, did when one took his picture).

She conjured a chair for me and asked if I’d like to sit. Professor Snape never sits. Then she asked me what I would wear on a stroll.

Mind you, Professor Snape never strolls. Strolling shows a lack of dignity, control, and authority that is beneath Professor Snape. Even if he did stroll, I realized, Professor Snape wears nothing but his black robes. Funny, you’d think Professor Snape would love to walk with these billowing robes on.

I answered black in the softest voice I could manage.

I must have intimidated Laguna, for her eyes instantly became much larger. She asked me what I would wear to tea party with the Minister, to a Weird Sisters concert, on a shopping trip, and on a tour of Muggle London.

Professor Snape would never go to a tea party with the Minister (and the Minister would neither have a tea party nor invite the professor in the first place). He would never be caught at a Weird Sisters concert (neither would I; the Dancing Carrots are much better). Professor Snape would never go shopping (he has a secret covet of pixies to make his black robes for him). He certainly would never go into Muggle London (Muggles will always jeer at his clothing).

I tried hard to imagine Professor Snape in each circumstance, but I couldn’t shake the image of him in his black robes. So I answered black for every single question.

Laguna looked funny when she began to say how much she’d love for me to join the team, but I cut her off. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I had seen Professor Snape do this before.

I told her in the best imitation of Severus I could do that I thought the Witch Weekly was despicable, deplorable, and devastatingly pink. Didn’t she know how to run a magazine business? Doesn’t she understand that fashion is not just an art form but life? I stood up and told her to contact me when the magazine was ready for my inspection. Before I swept off, I advised her to stir three times counterclockwise.

Confused by my actions? Well, you might think it was insane for me to turn down the job, but it’s the perfect tactic to use during your interview with Professor McGonagall. If you deny her offer in the most vehement way possible, she’ll chase you for your skills AND approval. Professor Snape does this all the time in his potions class. He’ll sneer at you for making the worst potion ever, but that would only motivate you to try harder in a desperate effort to hear praise from the professor (though the threat of five nights of detention is a motivator too).

I wasn’t alarmed when I didn’t hear back from them. Obviously the magazine is still not ready, the poor dears.

So there you have it. To do well in an interview, you must think like Severus Snape, the man who’d gotten a job at Hogwarts despite his Death Eater status, all with the help of his wardrobe and stunning personality. I suggest you stock up on some black robes like Professor Snape’s and practice strutting and sneering; you have to achieve the essence of Severus Snape. Avoid washing your hair three weeks before the interview.

You should do fine, but let me know how the interview goes!

Love, Luna

-This message was not sponsored by Witch Weekly who ignored all requests to do so by Quibbler magazine, citing reasons related to mental health.-

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Disclaimer: Luna’s advice cannot be applied if you are not a witch or wizard.