A/N: In which Harry makes – you guessed it – some decisions, and an interesting opportunity is presented him.

11 – Decisions, Decisions

Harry licked his lips, wondering what to do.

If he gave in to Dumbledore's pleas – and they were just that, pleas, despite the admittedly attractive-sounding option of the Unbreakable Vow, which sounded, well, too unbreakable not to do some good – he would probably be perceived as weak, yielding and easily led. On the other hand, if he just slit Pomfrey's neck and legged it somehow (he wasn't quite sure he could kill Dumbledore, faced with that increasingly pathetic, desperate look), he'd be seen as a monster, and would be hunted down like one, Boy-Who-Lived or no.

And besides, he'd want Snape along, wouldn't he, if his disguise wasn't to become ineffective due to his limbs regularly emitting fire when he was pissed, and managing and managing to live with that would be nothing short of a Herculean task. And there was also the matter of his losing his friends and becoming the most feared wizard-phoenix in the entire world (as obscurely tempting as that might be)…

Harry sighed, already getting ready to roll off and kick away Pomfrey. As much as he'd like things to be different, there was just no way to win this situation.

"I'll go with the Unbreakable Vow, thanks," Harry said, voice almost as unwilling and disbelieving as Snape's expression looked from here.

"Oh, Harry, you won't regret it – "

"Swear on your magic," Harry said, blithely interrupting Dumbledore's almost disgustingly relieved tone, "that you will swear me a vow that is unbreakable, and term it as I wish – "

"Are you out of your mind, Albus?" hissed Snape, but Harry's vassal was already altering his grip on his wand and twisting it in a ceremonial wave that Harry instinctively recognised as the proper one, and saying, in the appropriately humble tones befitting the ceremony:

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do swear on all the magic contained in and about and ever perpetrated my person, to swear an Unbreakable Vow with Harry James Potter as indeed he wishes it, termed as he wishes it, with penalty as he determines it – "

" – there is only one penalty, you old fool, and it is too much – " Snape was half-shouting now. But Harry could already feel the small vow solidifying between them, stretching out to him, and he opened his mouth to make his considerably short answer.

"I, Harry James Potter, do accept the vow and fealty thus displayed." Dumbledore looked mildly shocked, while Snape fairly howled with dismay.

"Albus, why – "

"Because I do not want to see our Matron killed in cold blood," Dumbledore said, watching with bated breath as Harry began to rise stiffly, revealing a wild-looking, but otherwise all right Madame Pomfrey.

"But Albus – "

"He obviously had no qualms attacking you, Severus," snapped Dumbledore, suddenly uncharacteristically impatient with Snape's angry confusion.

"Albus, he hates me – "

"Has he ever attacked you before now, save for that lamentable but justifiable incident in the Shrieking Shack – ?"

"Lamentable but justified!"

"Oh be silent, both of you," Harry ordered, rolling his eyes as Pomfrey refused his helping hand as she tried to get up. He was rather surprised when the little conversation did fall silent, but took full advantage of it nonetheless. "I'm really hoping you warded that door against eavesdroppers, Dumbledore."

"I – er – the room has always been warded – "

"He attacked me and threatened to murder Poppy, Albus, and you're humouring him!"

"Aguamenti – I asked for silence for a reason, Snape," Harry snapped now, easily dousing the slowly burning bed with jets of water from his wand. "I'd like to have that vow now, Dumbledore, if you please." He gave the old man a hard look. "Can we get started, then?"

"I understand, Harry," Dumbledore said, voice faltering with remorse that caught at Harry's heart just a little. Just a very little. "Is there anything else you would like to request?"

"Oh, yes, Headmaster, lick my boots," Snape muttered indistinctly, glaring at Harry as he approached him to help him up. "Keep your hands to yourself, you – you half-breed – "

Harry sniffed, actually more chuffed than irritated. "You really think so? Actually half-phoenix, or a little more than half – "

"Oh, Merlin," was all Snape seemed to be capable of saying, even as Harry tugged him to his feet anyway and placed his wand in his hand. "I'm asleep. I have to be – "

"Severus, if you could furnish Harry with his wand…" seemed to rouse the shaken professor out of his little fugue, and Snape wordlessly extracted Harry's wand from his robes and handed it to him, before conjuring a chair and sitting as far away from him and Dumbledore as was possible within the tiny room. "Poppy, if you would – "

"I can't believe it," Harry realised Pomfrey was muttering now, as she shakily put out the flames dancing slowly on the little table by the door. "Six years of healing him, and he attacks me – "

"If it makes it any better, I was really very angry," Harry said uncomfortably, after a short, horribly awkward silence. He sat down on the side of his bed, not knowing what else to do or say, and a sudden shard of guilt pierced him as Snape seemed to struggle briefly against some sarcastic comment or other. That shard was still investigating his insides when Snape finally broke the stuffy silence, his tone at its wryest and most sarcastic.

"Oh, you were angry, Potter? I didn't notice – "

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, voice a weary (for him) monotone as he cautiously conjured a seat just in front of Harry and took it immediately, giving Snape a disapproving look as he did so. "You really are not helping the state of things – "

"And you," Pomfrey suddenly broke off from her muttering, spinning to face Snape in his corner of the room. "You watched him set fire to the table and you. Did. NOTHING!"

"I seem to remember you screaming at me because he was out of bed – "

"INGRATE!" roared Pomfrey, startling Harry and Dumbledore. "FOOL! I DON'T KNOW WHY ALBUS TRUSTS YOU! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY YOU-KNOW-WHO TRUSTS YOU, YOU LOUSY EXCUSE FOR A DEATH EATER, IF YOU DON'T KNOW TO CURSE SOMEONE SETTING FIRE TO A POTION – !"

The only person that seemed to have an answer to that was Dumbledore, and his answer was a rather pathetic, uncomfortable clearing of the throat, followed by a hard look in Snape's direction. Harry hazarded a look at the man himself, and was not a little shocked – Snape was twitching in a most disturbing manner, and –

"Severus," Dumbledore said, voice oddly gentle. "Pull yourself together, please. We need – "

"A bonder," Snape finished darkly for him. "Sometimes I wonder why I am not mad already, what with your orders and your seeming lack of common – "

"Insulting each other isn't going to get that bond in my magical signature, Snape," Harry found himself saying, rubbing tiredly at his head as both Snape and Dumbledore stared at him yet again. "Can we just get over with it?"

"I – you – " was all Snape seemed to be able to say, his face twisting with the most painful disbelief Harry had ever seen on it.

"Would you like to state your terms, Harry?" Dumbledore said, ignoring the jerky way Snape was approaching after hauling himself to his feet like a man forced to do something against all his instinct and reason.

"Harry?" Harry blinked a little, touching his hand to his aching head again as he avoided Madame Pomfrey's hard, guilt-inducing look as she prodded a wobbly Snape into a chair just between Harry and Dumbledore. "Take my hand. Now, please state each clause of our agreement, and I will swear to it."

Harry, nerves suddenly assaulting him from all possible directions, thoughts whirling dizzyingly with everything he knew he had to say, took Dumbledore's injured right hand as carefully as he could, and began to recite.

Preview of Chapter 12: Reawakening No. 1

Harry opened his eyes bemusedly, wondering why he felt so different. So free. Then he shifted and stretched his wings out of habit, and realised, very suddenly, that he had not concealed his transformation last night.

If it had been night at all, when he'd woken up last in this place –

And then the burnt smell on the sheets was suddenly sharper than sharp, and memories of pure, unflinching anger and fire were suddenly chasing themselves down his thought passages, and Harry was rearing off the bed, unable to stand the smell, the reminder of his violence –

A/N: This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write, and even moreso to justify, which doesn't surprise me. 'Tis the first of the (probably many) Major Departures From The Hallowed Outline that I've done in this series, and it's a bit scary since it comes so early. But it is essential for all of you to see that Harry does have problems with controlling his phoenix side, even if he doesn't quite realise it yet. Oh, and that his unpredictability's going to be both a great advantage and great disadvantage to him. Hope you liked it! The next one should be along pretty soon – maybe after I've finally produced some sort of cohesive first draft for Part The Third chapter 5. Till then, dearies!