Remus Lupin

It's said dreams are the amalgams of your waking thoughts: conscious with subconscious combined and given form. Dreams aren't omens. They can be used to reevaluate that to which we're consciously blind. "What you're in the middle of, you're least likely to see."

It's also said: the dreamer is everyone and everything in the dream.

Last night I dreamed I was in bed in the tower. A cat was sitting on my chest. She, McGonagall, said, "Idiot boy, I think more of you than that." Severus sat next to me on the edge. He was glaring (not unusually) as if (again) I'd failed him terribly. I understood: they were angry at me for forgetting, and keeping me human before I was caught.

Derivations: most obvious feel least relevant. Dream analysis, per above theories, ought to be done by the dreamer. Only they can know the full scope of resonance. Yet for my life I can't decide if by virtue of it being my brain I must be seeing the deeper truth; or if across the divide from Dreamtime to reality, consciousness is imposing its limited bias. Still, the impression's become unshakable. It's not what I would have expected.

Blame is too insidious to ignore, but it is an emotion, nothing more. It is not a fact which requires affirmation or refute, not a revelation which requires action. It is a wound which requires treatment before it becomes unmanageable.

You die and I dream of one I still blame for creating you, and one I still blame you for creating.

And the dreamer is everyone in the dream.