I was a boy wizard going to a wizard school. The dream was certainly Harry Potter inspired, but the school and its staff more resembled schools from my life and from other fiction than from the HP universe.
I was accused of a particular crime by a faculty member that I never knew what it was. It was a crime so severe, and the accusing authority was so trusted, that my fate to be punished for it was absolute. Nobody believed in my innocence, including my (not IRL) parents, who were part of the process for conditioning me for my punishment. I got this sense that my crime was not one of doing but one of being – like perhaps I was discovered to be the reincarnation of some evil demon or whatever.
People pitied me more than anything. They did not hate me, but I could not run free, and while my parents and others empathized, they were certain of my guilt and would not allow me to roam freely.