Alohomora: The Killing Curse?

Once before, not quite a year ago, but a decent amount of time ago, I had a dream in which I had to battle Voldemort in order to save my life. It wasn't an angry battle but more of a game where the stakes were extraordinarily high. The setting was my house and my parents were not home. In this dream, we fought using charms and jinxes and curses however... avada kedarva was not used at all. The killing curse was instead alohomora, which opens doors that are locked (so long as they are not bewitched). This may or may not have some psychological counterpoint that Freud himself would analyze and see meant that new or previously unexplored options in my life were threatening to my very existence bla bla bla, but that however is not the point.

Yesterday, I had a repeat of this dream. As if fighting Voldemort became an annual sport or game for just the two of us. However, instead of using curses or jinxes, we used paintball guns. Once again, the stakes were high as the winner was allowed to live, while the loser would face a painful death... The setting was a house, much like mine, but vaguely different. I was terrified for the majority of the dream because I knew in my heart that there was no way I would win this one. My older brother took Voldemort's side for most of it, I remember he was hinting at good hallways in the house. I was on my own but I remember using the same room that I hid in the last time to cast my curse. I hid behind the same fake tree until I decided that this was stupid and went back upstairs to sit by the kitchen table.

The women in my family were there and I remember drinking coffee and talking with them about typical things when it started getting really quiet and the lights dimmed. I decided to load up my gun and just held it for a while while we were talking. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a finger behind a wall, starting to support a body that peeked out from behind. Within seconds, I had my gun up and I shot Voldemort with an orange paint ball right in the shoulder.

So I survived, he just went away because the bastard can't die at this point and I felt so accomplished and happy. Like I could literally do anything I wanted to.


So until next year, Voldemort, it seems I have decided once again that I will live.