Here's another Chapter of Feral, and with this three of my stories are past the 100k mark, which makes me very happy indeed, though my fourth has quite a ways to go yet.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter. Since I updated pretty darn recently (It's 01:50 here but it's probably the case that I updated "yesterday" in some places) I hope that this is a pleasant surprise. Not the most active/exciting chapter but necessary for both future events, and to wrap up the last chapter, which I believe we can agree was quite active.

Oh, at one point, you may well get annoyed with me/Harry/Fleur. I'm certain that I will be the subject of someone's ire, but I can't say for sure which of the two fictional characters people might blame.

I hope you like the chapter, and Feral so far. Please let me know if you do!

-()()()-

Barely three hours later, Harry and the other Champions were treated to a show. One that was giving Harry a headache as he tried to keep up with three sets of parents, plus the eldest brother redhead, and the fury they were directing at the Headteacher that they held responsible for their child being endangered. Between him and Fleur, who kept glancing at Harry and making a face of concern at the contempt he was directing at his own Headmaster. Bill Weasley had done a remarkable job of hiding the covert glances he directed at the Veela at the beginning of the meeting. He had stopped upon a silent snarl from Harry, and focused on the task at hand. Bill was not the type of person to go after another man's girl.

Karkaroff was in one corer, barely suppressing a smirk as none of the anger was directed at him. Nobody under his jurisdiction had been put under the lake, after all. In comparison, Albus was lucky that the Grangers had not been contacted by the unknown sources that called the Greengrasses and the Delacours, who had left upon dropping Gabrielle off and gaining countless reassurances from the daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law that they would keep her safe.

Currently, Harry was glad that he had succeeded in this promise. Not only would it have caused a relapse in his mental state far greater than the ones he had undergone recently, Appoline Delacour, apparently, could be fucking scary.

Even next to Molly Weasley, who was screaming her head off at Dumbledore, something that was uncharacteristic in Harry's eyes given that the Weasley's were adamant supporters of the Old Man, but these were extenuating circumstances, and Andrew Greengrass who loomed silently behind the Redheaded woman with a glare that could give Hell a nice, winter-wonderland look, Appoline was the angriest, followed closely by her husband.

Then again, Harry completely understood their anger. He even empathised with it, which was something of a rarity with him when in ordinary circumstances, as their youngest daughter, with earplugs in her ears, leant tiredly against Harry's side. There was no doubt in his mind that her... interest in him had grown exponentially after the events of the Black Lake. He worried about Gabrielle for a moment, and the stress that she had been put under, and this lead to his anger coming back, and him glaring at Dumbledore again. The Headmaster had not once given Harry a patented look of disappointment, which confused the teen slightly, but that did nothing to remove the desire Harry held to pin him to the neck by his throat and begin punching the Old Bastard again and again in his crooked nose until his knuckles either broke, or met the stone wall behind his head after making their way through the half-dust bones between. Well, that would not be possible with Gabrielle on his right, between he and her older sister, and Astoria on the left holding Harry's hand tightly with her own slightly subdued look of fury.

The Hogwarts champion's frown let up, as he decided that it would not do to act rashly, and that he would have to take a more human, or failing that serpentine, approach. Hunters had to be patient, and Harry was nothing if not a hunter. And, so, he ran a hand over the sleek blonde hair of his... future sister-in-Law, and that thought was one to almost bring back his frown, and the small girl smiled brilliantly, if sleepily, up at him before wrapping thin arms around his waist. That brought a small grin from Harry, and he saw that the same could be true of Fleur, who had been watching the brief exchange. Green eyes met blue for a moment, before a shriek from the Weasley monarch dragged their attention over to Molly. Once again, Fleur resigned herself to wait for the opportune moment to thank Harry.

"... AND ANOTHER THING!" She yelled, furious at the notion of losing her precious daughter. Said daughter tried to sink into the shadows behind her eldest brother, as she just about stared at Harry. The hero-worship that Harry sensed was coming would be far less endearing than Gabrielle's. Apparently, Ginny felt some embarrassment over the remarkable volume her mother had been consistently reaching for Merlin-knows how long. "HOW CAN YOU EXPECT PARENTS TO BE TRUSTING OF YOU WHEN YOU REFUSE TO EVEN CONTACT THEM WHEN YOU PUT THEIR CHILDREN IN MORTAL PERIL?!" A good point, but one she had made already. They had been berating the teachers for a long while now, with the obvious objections to their children's lives being risked, the lack of consultation, and, on a lesser note, the stress that the champions had been put under by the threat of not saving someone they cared so deeply about, though Molly Weasley had only mentioned that for the sake of continuing to yell, Harry believed. He felt sorry for the Weasley twins, who had no doubt been on the receiving end of this any number of times.

While the French Lady was terrifying, the affect only intensified by the fact that her hands, clenched into fists, were giving off smoke, Apolline Delacour was not as loud as Molly Weasley and so Harry could not quite tell what she was saying to inspire visible fear in the half-Giant that she was berating. All he knew was that Fleur did not seem all that surprised, and that it must have been substantial as Maxine did not give the impression of being anything near a pushover. Her husband was quiet, as his wife spoke. If Harry could judge the expression properly, and he believed that he could, after some examination, he would say that the man was torn on what should be the prominent emotion he was feeling. Anger was the most obvious, and he seemed to be keeping it in check to bring up in a more satisfying setting later that day, perhaps to get the tournament banned in the future, or to get the ministry officials in charge of the tournament fired, and so it warred with other emotions for ruling-rights of the man at the moment. Relief that his daughters were fine, was an example of another emotion. And, maybe, another was self-hate for leaving Gabrielle here in the first place to become a hostage.

Harry only briefly wondered why the Greengrasses had not been as livid as the other parents, though they were still angry enough that Harry's respect for Dumbledore climbed a notch, after the twenty it fell earlier in the day, at the fact that he did not cower from the murderous intent in Andrew's eyes. Andrew Greengrass had never been a particularly violent man, he had kept out of the last war, but Harry knew the very tall, short-haired blonde man well enough to say with absolute certainty that he would kill for the sake of his family. Astoria was, if anything, the one that he was most concerned for; likely followed by Daphne, his wife, the other girls and then Harry, as he did hold blood in some small regard due to his upbringing meaning that blood-relations were important, and because Harry had shown time and again that he did not need concern.

Adelaide, too, was directing a look of anger at the old man, but Harry knew her to be the kindest soul he'd ever encountered, deep down. He doubted that she would kill Dumbledore, no matter how angry she was, even if he did not really understand that policy. In her state of anger, who could blame her if she cut his head off? Or made it explode? Or gave him an aneurysm? Or cut him in half, or enchanted the Old Man's desk into a rabid dog and set it on him, or electrocuted him? Or, more mercifully, tore the beard off his face.

"... then, finally, I will burn you to a crisp. You will be filed as missing, and people will hear rumours that you ran off to be with your kind. Nobody will ever suspect your fate." There was a rare quiet moment from Mrs Weasley, and Harry heard this, hissed in French, by Fleur's mother. Harry's eyes widened, and he assumed that she had been warning the woman what would happen if she put Gabrielle in danger again. That sounded... scarily feasible. With her husband's sway in the ministry, and the prejudice towards half-giants...

This continued on for a while, before Harry and the others were dismissed during a lull in the collective conversations . He had a feeling that Dumbledore had only meant the students, but the adults left with their children, refusing to leave their sides just yet. Harry would have smirked at the fact, if he had not been left behind, with Gabrielle somehow asleep stood, leaning against him. Her soft breathing that bordered on snores was cute, but not worth the awkward situation of standing with three people he had, indirectly in two cases, yelled at.

"Uh... sorry, I'll wake her up." Unable to think of a better thing to say, Harry softly shook Gabrielle awake, who's grip fell away as she looked blearily up at him. Harry smiled apologetically and scooped her up into a bridal-carry. The girl, tiny as she was in Harry's arms, snuggled into his chest and fell asleep again. He guessed that she must have been wiped out by the challenge, and the stress, and so simply smiled at the action. Harry, carefully, darted out of the room before Dumbledore could strike up a conversation and quickly left him to talk with his fellow Head-teachers.

"What will you do wiz Meester Potter, Dumblydoor?" Maxine asked, once the black-haired lad had left the Headmaster's office. She was understandably fond of the teen, after he saved so many of her students, and felt some concern after his outburst. Maxine wholly agreed with what he had said, and she and Albus had both campaigned not to have people as what must be saved. They had been overruled, though, and so the task had not been changed.

"I assume that you mean after his reaction at the end of the task today," Dumbledore inferred. "I will have to speak to Minerva on the subject. If she wishes to punish him, I will be inclined to agree, but I believe that she will be as close to lenient as she ever comes. Mr Potter is one of her favourite students, because of his talent in her subject and the fact that, as hard as it may be to believe, he typically causes no trouble whatsoever?"

"Really?" Igor's gruff tone showed his scepticism. "He seems to disregard the rules."

"Yes, he does. Minerva was, however, expecting much worse from him, and Harry rarely acts out without good cause. He hardly ever does mischief for the sake of mischief."

"You speak as though you are fond of him, as well." Igor noticed. "This afternoon you seemed to hate him."

"I do not hate anybody, Igor. You should know that about me by now, but I understand why you would believe that about me. Believe it or not, today's events have helped reshape my opinion on the character of the elder Mr Potter. He has had a tough life, but he can be saved from the path he is walking."

"'Ze path 'e ees walking'?" Maxine repeated. "What do you mean by zis?"

"You know of the events of your school Madame, we discussed them in this very office. I worry what that shows of Mr Potter's character, despite what I said at the time. The fact that he showed so little remorse for their deaths is disturbing. I expected him to show some measure of trauma after the events. No matter what his formative years were, no child should care so little about having blood on his hands." He did not think what his words would inspire in the woman, and so gave the slightest flinch at the sudden change in her expression. He would soon learn that it was best to avoid angering a Half-Giant at all costs, and be more cautious of what he said, regarding her 'favourite Englishman' in the future.

()-_-()-_-()-_-()

"'Arry," Apolline began, as Harry joined them with Gabrielle slumbering in his arms. "I deed not get ze chance to say zis earlier, but zank you. I do not know 'ow to express my gratitude to you for risking your life for Gabrielle..." She said, with utmost sincerity, and Harry's expression became one of discomfort. He quickly changed it to a smile, as the others focused their attention on him; Apolline had been the first to spot him.

"There's no need to thank me," Harry replied. It was true, he did not particularly like being thanked, in fact, for things like this; that he would call significant. It made him feel uncomfortable, and unsure how to respond. "I didn't like the idea of leaving them down there, 'specially since Gabrielle's always been so sweet." He continued.

"We cannot ever thank you enough, zough, Monsieur Potter." Sebastian corrected, also with sincerity. That was a relief to Harry, as he had never gotten the impression that the man was particularly fond of him. While he would not care in ordinary circumstances, it was seeming extremely likely that they would spend inordinate amounts of time together, and Harry would be extremely uncomfortable being around a man that was hostile for any period of time outside of school. "I am sure zat zey had safety measures in place, but anyzing could 'ave gone wrong. If we had lost 'er..." He did not need to finish his sentence, as his wife took the man's hand. Apparently, Harry noted, they were willing to leave their youngest in his arms.

"In that case," Harry's smile was truer now. "You're welcome." He said simply.

"Harry," Another voice, one he did not really recognise, began. Harry turned to see the balding, red-headed patriarch of the Weasley clan speaking to him. Based on the gratitude in his eyes, Harry was fairly certain it was a very, very good thing he did not know the boy in front of him had also rescued Ginny years prior in the Chamber-of-secrets incident. As nice as the Weasleys seemed to be overall, Harry found them irritating. They were far too exuberant for his tastes and, more importantly, had bred a couple of idiots that he'd sooner attack than talk to. Percy and Ron being the prominent examples. Plus, the red-haired girl's looks were already getting on his nerves. "I- we want to thank you as well. I can't express my gratitude through words, but Ginny... if we had lost her again- if you ever need anything-" Arthur Weasley stumbled over his words in his haste.

"I'll bear that in mind," Harry smiled, it was not particularly sincere, but it was hopefully believable. While the offer was very kind, especially as the Weasleys had only so much they could offer, Harry did not think that they would have anything he needed. Nor would he feel right taking it. "Thank you, Mr Weasley."

"Arthur, please." Mr Weasley insisted. Harry nodded, though he did not think they would have another conversation, and the man grinned at him.

Harry held Gabrielle closer to him, silently thanking whatever deity was watching over him, with gratitude in his heart as the Weasley Matriarch looked like she wanted to hug him, but stopped herself with a look at the bundle in his arms. She repeated her husband's sentiments, before herding her daughter towards the Hospital Wing.

Harry's fake smile turned real as Andrew clapped him on the shoulder; that was as close as the two came to hugging, and Harry was glad that the man approved of his actions. Adelaide came to his other side, and awkwardly wrapped an arm around the teen, who was taller than her by quite a bit, in an imitation of a hug. Harry smiled at her, and his thoughts idly wandered, as they sometimes did, to wondering why both of their daughters had received her Violet eyes, and Andrew's blonde hair, but nether had the man's blue eyes or her ebony locks. It was unimportant, but her eyes reminded him of her daughters', and that made Harry happy. Neither of his parents made a sound, as they silently informed him that he was right in the decision. Harry had known that what he had done was right in his own opinion, but had not been certain whether they would be okay with him technically-assaulting an authority figure. It was a relief that they were.

When Harry turned his attention back to the Delacours, it was with confusion that he noticed that Fleur and her mother were staring, silently, at each other. As though they were having a muggle staring contest, and Harry did not see the point of the game. Perhaps it was popular in the French Wizarding community, though. Harry had no idea, and so he did not think all that much of it when Apolline blinked and sighed, signalling that she had lost. It was a bit of a surprise, though, when she proceeded to pry Gabrielle, very much unwillingly, off of her saviour. The girl's complaints disappeared as they went towards the Entrance Hall, but Sebastian's confused questions as to why they were leaving Fleur lingered slightly longer.

Then, Fleur and Adelaide were having a staring contest. This confused Harry more, as he had never known his foster mother to care for the game, and when the woman took hold of Andrew's arm, and Astoria's hand, and practically dragged her family away with the beginnings of a frown, Harry's confusion rose. He turned to Fleur with an eyebrow raised and voiced his concerns.

"Where are they going?" He, quite simply, asked. Usually, they would have informed Harry where they would meet up again.

"I asked them to give us a moment." Fleur replied, in French, with a blank mask that in no way helped Harry deduce what was going on.

"I did not hear you ask them to go." He commented, in response.

"I hinted that I would like them to leave, then." The girl smiled slightly, before it fell away and left the lack of expression. "Women's intuition."

"Okay," Harry shrugged, not overly concerned. "What's up?" He asked, with no more preamble.

"I wanted to say thank you, for rescuing my sister when I was not able."

"There's really no ne-"

"I know," Fleur nodded, and her silver-blonde hair swayed slightly. "But I wanted to... say it, nonetheless." She stepped forwards, and Harry noticed that she was carefully regulating her breathing. Needless to say, he was still baffled. When she stepped closer than people were typically comfortable being around Harry, he began to suspect that she was going to kiss him. It made sense, if he was right about his own aesthetic appeal, as they were, he supposed, romantically linked through the contract. He supposed that he liked the idea, though it was still a foreign concept to him. It did not make much sense, to press ones lips against another in a sign of affection, to Harry, after all.

He seemed to be correct, as the girl, shorter than him at about 5'10, took his chin in her hand, seemed to blush, and stood on her tiptoes.

Then, she kissed him on the cheek, and Harry blinked as the girl fled in the direction of the others. He rubbed his jaw, and cheek, absent-mindedly as she did, and pondered the French that she was hissing as she fled. Why was she calling herself a coward? She had gone into the lake despite her Veela nature, after all, so it did not make sense in context of the challenge. Did that mean that she was cowardly for kissing him on the cheek? Why would an expression of thanks be cowardly?

Harry was confused.

-()()-

Had they always been afraid of him? In a way, the Hogwarts champion hoped they had.

He didn't find any particular pleasure from the notion of the other houses fearing him; okay, it may have stoked his ego slightly, but Harry didn't care that much about his ego anyway, so the pleasure was insignificant and, as a Second Year Hufflepuff saw him, panicked, and fled, Harry's brow sank into a small frown because he felt bad for scaring the little girl. Then, it went away when he realised that all he had done to scare her was be in the vicinity. It was not his fault.

No, the reason that he hoped they had was simply because they should have feared him throughout his school career. Not Harry the boy, but the animal that they really ought to be sense. Sense just by looking at him or, if they did not have that insight into the human soul, by the way he stalked through the corridors sometimes when he was not focused on appearing as though he was one of them, that Harry was different. The animal that was him, while docile most of the time, was dangerous. Harry was dangerous, as could be evidenced by the good few Slytherins he had sent to the Hospital wing in his earlier years, yet the Slytherins never told that it was he that hurt them, either because of House Loyalty or their pride was wounded by the younger student thrashing them.

In another, more prominent way, though, he hoped that the fear would fade back into a subconscious wariness of the beast-dressed-as-a-man. This was annoying. People squealed, and Harry scowled, and then more people squealed, and Harry growled. Then, either a younger student began to cry, and Harry felt bad, or they fled, which Harry would be grateful for, or, in the cases of some idiots, they said something obnoxious, and Harry snarled at them. Then, someone in the vicinity would start to cry, and Harry would sigh before leaving the area to allow them to be comforted. How had he suddenly become so much more intimidating, just by yelling at the Headmaster? Sure, they had seen a side of Harry that was usually kept private, and the aloofness of him was, weirdly, what made people see him as cool, but there had been no significant change between the morning of the Fourth task and now.

Harry was sure that there were other reactions, but his attention was drawn to the fearful. It didn't help that he could literally smell fear, and that the scent was something his attention was drawn to. His looking at them would increase the potency, and it would be a few moments before Harry dismissed it as insignificant. One of his brother's room-mates, Longbottom, would freeze and lose all of the colour from his face upon Harry's eyes meeting his. It would have been funny, were it not so concerning and, more importantly, fucking annoying.

Thankfully, his friends had not changed their attitude towards him, and the Slytherins had always had a wariness about them when it came to Harry. That meant the Common Room was safe, and Harry was glad of that haven even though he had no choice but to venture out for lessons and mealtimes. Interestingly, the other schools seemed to have a far more subdued reaction to Harry's outburst. Perhaps they were not so... herd-like as the Hogwarts masses.

And a small, blonde Third Year from Ravenclaw had inexplicably started following him around. He would need to talk to Caroline or Jasmine about this. Maybe they could get the Lovegood girl to stop shadowing him, and looking like he'd kicked her puppy whenever he went into the Slytherin Common Room.

-()()()()-

Harry was confused. Now, he's annoyed. He's quite often sleepy, and hungry rather frequently as well. Speaking of which, I'm tired also, and that probably explains why I am writing this little message. So... who are you annoyed with for the situation that left Harry confused?

People'll say that it's out of Character for Fleur, I reckon, but in this story (and a lot on this site for that matter) she's inexperienced just because she doesn't trust guys after being warned against them for her entire life. Oh, and she didn't run off like a giggling school girl, she more chickened out and fled before the situation could become overly awkward. She understands romance and the like much better than Harry, but hardly has any more experience.