After finishing homework in the common room and going to his bed in the dorm, Harry brought out his notebook and turned towards the end, where he was surreptitiously maintaining a list. As best he could, he was writing in a pidgin of the French Hermione had taught him, interspersed with a few words in English. It wouldn't be secure, but it might make someone who didn't have much time ignore the entries.

As the dream simply went on and on, he was taking it more and more seriously. Deny resources to the enemy, he thought. He could think of three future death eaters that he had an "in" with. He concentrated on the one with the most tenuous ties. Then his attention turned to the only (probable) death eater female around their year, though in truth she was a couple of years behind them.

At that point, he realised his best shot was to solve both problems at the same time. And that there was no time like the present.

To have their arch-enemy politely knocking on the Slytherin common room door must have been a shocking but amusing sight. Avery and Mulciber answered him. He hadn't just banged away; in a mannerly fashion, he'd knocked once, waited five minutes, then knocked again. After that, he waited ten minutes, then knocked twice, then waited five minutes, then knocked twice again.

They could see through the door, of course, and would have observed him biding his time patiently, with a bare smile. "What do you want?" Mulciber demanded.

"A parley with Severus Snape," Harry simply responded.

"Piss off!" Avery said.

"Alright," Harry responded, "but I'll come back."

"If it will keep the disgrace to what was once a proud family from making a pest of himself, I may amuse myself by humouring the cretin," he heard a voice from further in saying.

Severus Snape appeared, glaring at Harry. "But if the idiot thinks I'll walk into a trap without assistance, then perhaps the rumours of ... brain damage ... are correct?"

As it fell out, Avery and Mulciber waited outside an empty classroom. Harry began by asking Snape not to raise his voice unless he was actually being threatened. He took a minuscule movement of Snape's head as assent.

"My brain's not damaged, Mr Snape," he said. "I've been having visions."

Snape looked very amused.

"And because of that, I want a truce. I believe I can hold my friends to it. Siri's going to be the only tricky one, but he owes me."

Still looking amused, Snape questioned Harry about what sort of truce he could imagine Snape wanting.

"Look," Harry responded. "I realize how convenient this is going to sound, but among other things, I've seen mine and Lily's child. I've seen my future, I've seen hers, I've seen yours, and I've seen Harry's. Lucius' dark lord did us all in, every one of us." He wasn't lying, just leaving out that James and Lily were dead, and he and Snape were just ruined.

"The one correct thing you've said this, or lo these many years is that it does, indeed sound a little too convenient."

"You needn't ask me or mine, have someone who won't send her shrieking ask Alice Diggory. Evans is starting to ask around about you, and I mean really asking this time. And she doesn't like what she found out. There is no way in this life she'll ever give you the time of day again. The best you can hope for is reconciliation after you've admitted all the things you said about her in the Slytherin common room. After you've admitted what you helped Mulciber and the other bastards do. After you've formally, and publically, renounced the Dark Lord. And is all of that - and only some of it will do nothing - very likely?"

"It's interesting how you negotiate, Potter," Snape said drily.

"It is, isn't it," Harry replied. "I have no idea what you will think of this next part." He carefully avoided smiling. It wasn't just that Snape didn't smile much, and that was partly thanks to James, Harry reminded himself. It was that James' smile was famous, or notorious, for being flirty and seductive.

"I don't just want a truce," Harry admitted. "I want to turn you from the path you're on. I also want to stop Regulus Black from following it. But that's nothing to do with you, although if I can get Sirius to cease bothering you completely, that will probably help with Reggie. But there's another person I want to sway, and ..."

"Good heavens," Snape sneered, "the famous James Potter at a loss for words? This must truly be an epically imbecilic notion, even for the paragon of morons."

"It probably is," Harry agreed. Snape lifted one eyebrow. He was clearly not used to a humble or self-deprecating James Potter. Harry had realised James' braggadocio was partly ironic and self-mocking, and that irony was laced into almost everything James said, but when you're trading curses with him, that probably didn't come across.

"I want to break Narcissa Black's engagement to Lucius Malfoy, and I want you to be her boyfriend. She's beautiful and intelligent, and there's no telling what the Dark Lord will do to her once Lucius Malfoy has her under his thumb. Her oldest sister can go to hell, but you are a good match for her, and you can help save her."

"And the fact that Malfoy's already had one Black engagement broken, and that in pushing for a second humiliation, all of Slytherin and all of the Dark Lord's supporters would rise up to destroy her, myself, and you for proposing it, I assume will be steamrolled by Gryffindor pluck?"

"I'm not playing Dumbledore's game by his rules anymore, Mr Snape. My parents have been badgering me to wake up about him, and I am. I will do whatever it takes to make my goals happen. If the hat was on my head right now, we'd be housemates."

Snape almost smiled, he was so amused now.

"At any rate, you have, indeed, amused me, but slapstick comedy only lasts just so long, Potter. I will take my leave now, and give your brilliant plans and ideas the consideration they deserve," Snape said.

If this dream were real, Harry realised his father would be so, so disappointed in him for this:

"The stuff I said about repenting so Evans will talk to you again? I believe that. But that's on you and it's really none of my business. As for me, I'm doing what I can, as I said. I will apologise to you, tomorrow. One-sidedly. You just name the time and place," Harry promised.

"Ah? Is that so?" Snape drawled. "Well, then, why wait? We are, after all, into the dinner hours."

"Actually, that's better," Harry agreed. After all, once he "fell asleep," the dream would undoubtedly end, and it would be unsatisfying not to see the response to his apology.

The four of them marched to the great hall. As they approached the Slytherin tables, Harry glared Sirius, Remus and Peter into silence. Sirius, in particular, looked genuinely hurt.

Casting a Sonorous, Harry said, "I have an announcement to make. I am humbly apologising to my fellow student, Severus Tobias Snape. In the years leading up to this one, my conduct towards Mr Snape has been deplorable, unworthy of a Hogwarts student, a Gryffindor, or a Potter. Regardless of whether Mr Snape can accept my apology or forgive me, I wish to, in any event, make it clear that I regret my behaviour and any harm I have caused to Mr Snape. I retract any slurs I have made on his character and I regret and disavow any misfortune that I have influenced my friends and allies to visit on him. Thank you all for listening. I am truly sorry."

He wouldn't have predicted it, but he was met with total silence. He saw Sirius and Remus get up and leave, heading for the Gryffindor tower. Mulciber and Avery had to help Snape sit down. Apparently, the shock was so great his legs were failing him.

Harry slunk over to the Gryffindor area and sat down next to Peter. Lily was a little way down from the opposite side of the table. Harry didn't even say hello, but waited for a house-elf to bring him a small plate of food - they were good judges of when a big meal would be wasted. Even Lily wasn't so much pleased with Harry as shocked. Probably, Harry mused, she'd have been over the moon if James had done this two years ago. Doing it now, when she was reconsidering everything she said defending Snape and the Slytherins, was more confusing than admirable.

He looked between Peter and Lily. "I know what I'm doing," he said, quietly.

When he got back to the dorm, Sirius and Remus had his notebook, and it was open to his notes in French.

"Fascinating stuff, Prongs," Sirius said, with a snarl. "So, we're in the business of saving Snape, are we?"

"In fairness," Remus interjected, "I was actually relieved to see that part. It's always hurt you more than you were hurting him and the other Snakes. But you're taking it so far, it's demented."

"And Reggie? Because, of course, I have never tried, right?" Sirius said, raising his voice. "Oh, and Narcissa of all people? Because, yeah, you know Cissy, right? She's just waiting to buck her family, any day now, and get thrown out like Andi was. Oh, wait, you've talked with her perhaps twice in your life!"

"But Prongs," Remus continued, "that's not the point, is it? What, exactly, are you saving Peter from? Why's he on the same page as three future death eaters?"

"You know what?" Sirius said, "I'm incapable of discussing this. I'm not even sure we're talking with a sane person."

"You should go to St Mungo's for a second opinion, James," Remus added. "And stop using that amulet before what's left of your sanity oozes down the drain."

"We can't even tell Peter about this. We can't. It would crush him," Sirius said. "We'll talk about it, all right, but maybe you can sleep on it. After all, you have a dream amulet."

"That's a joke, in case you've forgotten what those are," Remus added. "Will you at least do that much? Take the damned thing off, let your mind recuperate, then we can discuss things with a clear head? Peter probably won't want to run, we can discuss it then."

"Look at him," Sirius said. He sounded a little like Snape. "He's like that Gollum creature in that book Evans likes so much. Prongs, we'll swear on our honour not to take your precious, how's that, then?"

Remus looked conflicted, but then agreed. "Put it in your trunk and work the blood seal on it, if you don't trust us, Jim, but I promise not to touch it, too."

Harry took off the necklace and put it in his trunk. He very vaguely remembered what Alastor Moody had told him about his trunk in the DADA office. Because Crouch, Jr had been polyjuiced into him, his blood had worked the trunk as well as Moody's in his own right. Harry didn't remember anything fancy being required, no ritual or wand movements, just blood. Looking hesitant would simply make them more suspicious. He noticed a pin sticking out of the surface of the lock, and pricked his finger on it. It glowed slightly, and when he close the latch, he heard a second click, which had to be the blood protection engaging.

After Harry sat down on his bed again, Peter came in. Although a bit subdued, he was extremely curious, and bugged Harry to explain his behaviour at dinner. "The whole castle is literally talking about it, Prongs."

"It's not tricky, Wormy," Harry said, with a sigh. "I wanted a truce, and that was how to guarantee it."

"But that's not how people are taking it," Peter said, with a very worried expression. "They're saying it's an admission of defeat, that the Marauders won't help anyone anymore, that we're ceding the school to the Slytherins."

"I'll consult with Evans and Diggory, then, Pete. Don't worry so much. It's high time the students, even the younger years, learned to defend themselves. It's high time that faculty, including Dumbles, who turn their faces away from crimes and are deaf, dumb and blind about persecution are reported to the Board. My parents will help; they're sick of Dumbles and sick of Hogwarts being a recruiting grounds for the terrorists. The facade that it's all pranks so we can retaliate wore thin at least a year ago. It's been open warfare for a while now, and the school can't sustain it," Harry finished off.

Peter had nothing to say to that, so he got under the covers, and pulled out a Muggle mystery novel.

Harry couldn't help it. Am I expediting his conversion? he wondered. After all, all he'd ever gotten out of the traitor was how powerful the Dark Lord was. And wasn't that Voldemort's main line? There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to use it?

One of the possibilities he'd considered was that there was some sort of actual time travel being invoked here, and that when he slept, his father would return and have to clean up his mess.

With that in mind, Harry wrote an objective listing of everything he'd done since he "woke up" in this time, who he'd talked with, what he'd said, what he'd done. That's what journals were for, after all. He wrote until he couldn't keep his eyes open, then he slept.