When I was little, Reader, I used to be scared of the dark. I think it's a common thing for a child to fear, the creaks and moans while the sun is set, the chairs that look like people if you squint your eyes right. Irrational fear of the darkness swallowing me whole, of the closet door opening to reveal an intruder with wicked teeth.

But then I grew up. I stopped believing in ghosts and ghouls. I stopped fearing the dark and what resided in it, and started fearing sometimes much more mundane, but much more real things. My parents' marriage falling apart. My friend's brother. Talking to people I do not know. Being hated. They are fears much more real than darkness and the boogeyman... but not any less frightening.

I think, though, something that burdens me more than the heaviness of social anxiety, and paranoids me more than gripping a pair of scissors when he walks into the room, and makes me shed more tears than mother screaming at father ever could, is simply real life boogymen. Because I don't believe in supernatural evil, but I know evil when I see it, and though my eyesight is poor, the ability to disguise cruelness is poorer. I know evil when I see it.

It is in the extremely rich, in the elitist, those who work for themselves when exploiting others, who allow the world to fall apart while building their Noah's ark. Those who defend the billionaires of the world. "They earned their money." I can assure you, they did not.

I see evil and I fear it in the corrupt politicians who pay millions instead of going to court for sexual assault charges. Who say disgusting things about real life women, and then for real life women to continue to support him. For them to be involved with known pedophiles and then face no consequences for it.

I do not fear the dark anymore because it cannot hide anything, cannot get away with anything for long. I flip a switch, Reader, and light floods the room. 

I fear evil because even when the lights are on, their corruptness remains. Because the thought of them heavy my heart, sweaty my grip, and makes me more bloodthirsty than one can imagine. I would be a vigilante at heart if I were not such a coward.

I fear real life boogymen. I have all the reason to. They are like cockroaches. There is rapid and constant refusal to die.

I suppose, my dearest Reader, that is why Luna's assumption is wrong. Why her foggy vision of the future right now will burden her more than she could have ever expected. "Your past stems from your present, which, if you are living right, is constantly changing. I suppose we have been capitulated into 'living right.'" She no longer sees the future, but it's not because she's living right. She's not.

It's because real life evil is. Because Dolores Umbridge is like the boogeyman, and she's realer threat than ever. 

When she arrives in Azkaban, she doesn't try to escape. She knows she will fail. Her arrogance does not extend that far. She will wait, try to hold onto her sanity, and because she wills it, help will come. It always does.

Luna Lovegood is not like me, Reader. She regarded Dolores Umbridge like I now regard darkness; not a credible threat. As something she can look past and dismiss, something that will be taken care of in the morning.

But the sun will rise, the light will come, and Dolores Umbridge will still remain. Luna's greatest fault is not fearing real life boogymen.