A burst of green light flew past Harry and he squinted, holding up his hands to shield his eyes from the light. This was the first time he'd ever had this dream; if he recalled correctly, he'd been getting dreamless sleep for the past few months. A pain for Divination, of course, but at least it guaranteed no nightmares.
Now, though, it seemed that he was witnessing a confrontation between three old ladies and Voldemort.
Another burst of green light flew past him, and he could see the lady in the middle wave her hand dismissively.
The most powerful curse on this planet, cast by one of the most powerful wizards in the world, disappeared with a flick of her hand.
"For every Killing Curse you cast," The lady on the right rasped.
"For every life you take," Clack. The sound of knitting needles clashing together seemed ever so diminished now, as the lady on the left spoke up.
"And for every thread we cut," The lady on the middle kept her eyes on Voldemort, who Harry could see had stood up from his seat, looking right back at the trio emotionlessly.
"There will be consequences, Tom Marvolo Riddle," The three chorused, sending a shiver down Harry's spine.
"Do not address me by my given name," Voldemort said coldly, "You do not intimidate me."
The three old ladies let out loud laughs, their needles continuing their knitting, which, Harry found, was quite mesmerizing. Threads and strings of all colors and thickness were tangled together in one huge tapestry – a bright sea green there, a clear blue by the top – without any pattern or rules or boundaries, yet artistic all the same.
"That is not our goal, boy," The lady on the right stressed the word 'boy', as if they were reminding Voldemort of his age – as if they, three ladies, were his superiors and should be addressed politely, and be treated with respect by the Dark Lord. "You shall have to face the consequences."
"For meddling with fate and life and death," the lady on the left smiled humorlessly.
"Beware, boy," the one in the middle hissed, before all three chanted in unison, "For the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."
Harry must've been imagining it, but the ladies looked at him right in the eye when they said this.
The last thing he saw before he awoke was a young boy, with dark hair and deep, dark eyes staring straight as him as the lady on the left lifted her scissors steadily.
Snip.