That One Time My Roommate and I turned Luna Lovegood into a Cold-blooded Killer

We're not really sure how it happened.

My roommate (who is no longer my roommate, sadly *sadface*) and I had been on a Harry Potter kick for a LOOONG time. As in run a marathon of the movies two days in a row, knit House scarves, and go to Wizardrock concerts. I do remember was that everything started around 3:30 am, and it went something like this.

Roommate: You know, with Dumbledore dead and McGonagall being ancient, who would be Headmaster when Harry's kids go to Hogwarts?
Arc: I dunno, Neville?
RM: Yeah, probably Neville...No, wait...LUNA.
Arc: HA! YES! LUNA WOULD MAKE THE MOST KICK ASS HEADMASTER EVER.
RM: Oh, god, can you imagine?
Arc: (imitating Luna) "Remember to leave food out for the Nargles before you go to bed."
RM: "The Nargles like shoes, so none of you get to wear shoes. You give them all to the Nargles"
Arc: (being some punk ass kid) "What if we like our shoes?"
RM: (as Luna) "Well that jus' fuckin' sucks, dunnit?"
Arc: "The Nargles will steal all your shoes."

But, you see, that was only the beginning. Luna soon took a turn for the worse.

RM: "And tomorrow, we're going to learn how to ride Thestrals."
Arc: (punk ass kid) "What if we can't see the Thestrals?"
RM: (Luna) "....You're father picked on me in school, stole all my shoes." *BAM. KID DEAD.* "Now everyone can see Thestrals!"
Arc: (another, more scared kid) "But...What about the first years next year...?"
RM: (Luna) "...Pick a number between one and ten."
Arc: (kid) "...Four...?"
RM: (Luna) "Well that fuckin' sucks, you should have picked five. You'll be the reason the next first years can see Thestrals."

The more we talked, the more we remembered about Luna; the Dirigible plums, the Nargles, the Crumplehorned Snorkbacks (or something like that. We couldn't pronounce it, so we didn't include it). The more we talked, the more we laughed, suffocated, and destroyed Luna's looney, good-girl reputation.

RM: (Luna) "Dirigible plum puddin' for dinner. Enjoy!"
Arc: (Kid) "What if we don't like pudding?"
RM: (Luna) "Well tha' jus' fuckin' sucks, dunnit? You're not gettin' anythin' more than puddin'. I hope the fuckin' Nargles eat your face off."
Arc: And you know Neville is sitting at the staff table, leaning forward to look at Flitwick with this murderous look on his face, snarling, "I told you I should have been Headmaster! I told you!

All of this went on for a LOONG time. I think it was coming up on five am when we finally suppressed our giggles (and were able to breathe properly again) and finished up our Nargle talk. As in, every time we said "Goodnight. FOR REAL, this time!", one of us would lean over and whisper something like...

RM: "The Nargles like it when you sleep! It makes it easier for them to eat your soul!"
Arc: "Go to sleep, little children! Let the Nargles eat your souls!"
RM: "Worship the Nargles!"
Arc: "THE NARGLES ARE YOUR GOD!"
RM: ....Hey, Arc?
Arc: Yeah?
RM: What have we done to Luna?
Arc: ....We're so going to hell.

And that's how we turned Lovely Luna Lovegood into a cold-blooded killer. Whoops. Sorry, Luna.

Wander safely (AND WORSHIP THE NARGLES!),
Arc.