I had a horrible dream about a grey tabby kitten who was incredibly small, small enough to fit inside one of those resealable sandwich bags. The kitten was in the sandwich bag (which had holes punched in it) in a shoulder bag placed beside me on the floor. I was watching some kind of performance below from a balcony or mezzanine position as I played with a rat.
I decided to forego the rat and took the kitten out of the resealable sandwich bag. I let it play on the rails that separated the mezzanine from the performance pit below. As the kitten jumped from the rails into my hands, its (obviously fragile) neck broke and it died. I put it back in the sandwich bag, felt kind of guilty but didn't seem too concerned about it.
Then Mae Mae drew me a pencil sketch of Snape in a cobblestone square hunched over a cauldron. I thought this was impossible as she had never read or seen the Harry Potter series and woke up.
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