A Dream

Last night, I had a strange dream.  It was a long dream, but I only remember part of it.  In the dream, Lord Voldemort, the evil wizard in Harry Potter who killed Harry Potter's parents, asked me to teach his son English.  We bumped into each other on the stairway.  I could see his and his son's faces clearly.  Both of them were wearing heavy makeup.  Lord Voldemort looked really evil.  He was moving upstairs swiftly, with his son, a chubby boy, in his right arm.  I told Voldemort I didn't have time and he didn't do anything to me.  Otherwise, it would have been a nightmare. Hmm... If Freud were still alive, I'd like to hear his interpretation of my dream.