Three years later, age seven.

The light was fading but Harry knew there were several pieces of chicken in this trash can. He'd watched that family all afternoon as they'd had the largest picnic basket out of all the visitors to the nature preserve today. The amount of food they alone had thrown away would feed him for a week.

"No baby mice this week," Harry hissed to himself, relieved, as he finally found his prize. When there was no food for Harry to scrounge for himself, his family would hunt for him and due to his human teeth, mice were the easiest thing to eat. The babies were small enough to swallow whole, but they squirmed a lot. The adults were also swallowed but he had to cut them in half with an old axe head he'd found last summer.

He wasn't adverse to raw mouse but given a choice...

"Oi William, what have we got 'ere?"

"A tasty morsel to be sure, Jink."

Harry looked up in shock and no little fear. He couldn't understand many of the two men's words but their tone made the fine hairs on his bare arms stand up. Nervously he got to his feet, wiping his hands on the denim shorts he'd nicked from an inattentive swimmer.

"We can have a little fun after we clean him up, and then to Knockturn with 'em. A pretty little thing like him will fetch a nice price."

Harry was backing away slowly when the larger man, who had spoken the most, snagged his arm in a crushing grip. The boy couldn't stop the small scream from escaping as the men tugged him away from the trash can and the safety of the forest.

His struggles became fiercer the further away he was pulled until he was screaming full out, kicking and hitting with his free arm.

"Shut him up William!" the smaller man complained.

William slapped the boy with his free hand, knocking his head back and splitting his top lip.

"William," Jink hissed, "look at 'is forehead!"

Harry blinked dazedly as the hulk turned back to him.

"It's Harry Potter!"

"Forget Knockturn, William, do you have any idea what we could get for finding the Boy-Who-Lived? We'll be rich!"

"An' famous." William was smiling when he said this but then he frowned. "But that means we can't have no fun with 'im."

Jink slapped the man's shoulder. "After this you can have all the boys you want! The Knockturn gents will be throwing them at your feet just so's they can say the savior of the savior was there!"

"I guess." He looked disappointed but started pulling Harry again.

Harry, aware once again of what was happening, stretched up and bit the arm holding him, his teeth sliding into the mans flesh until they met with an audible click. It was Williams turn to scream as he jerked away from the child. Balling a fist, he punched Harry in the face, knocking the small boy into some bushes.

He lay there, once again dazed, listening to the men talk. He couldn't seem to make his body work.

"I am here, Hairy."

He could barely make out the shape of his smallest sister, a pygmy Syren, through the black spots in his vision. He felt her wind her way up onto his hip to await his attacker. Seconds later the bushes rattled."

"I'll teach ya, ya little bastard!"

"But Will!"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut feeling the movement of Oma's strike. With a 'crash' and a 'thump', a corpse landed on Harry's legs.

He screeched hysterically, frantically kicking his way out from under the weight and upsetting Oma in the process.

There was a loud 'pop' but Harry was beyond anything resembling rational thought. He couldn't hear Oma calling his name, or see that William no longer posed a threat. He only knew he had to get away, had to get back to his mother.

He bolted back to the nest, sobbing and wailing; falling several times, unknowingly skinning his hands, elbows and knees.

Celeste was shocked by her son's appearance but nonetheless quickly wrapped herself around the boy, hissing comforting nothings.

Moments later, a panting Oma slithered into the nest and quietly relayed the afternoon's events to their mother.

"My Hairy, what can I do Hairy? What can I do?" She hadn't expected an answer, but the hysterical boy screamed, "I don't wanna be a boy no more!"

All of Harry's brothers and sisters circled around him, fitting themselves where they could. Celeste swayed back and forth while the boy chanted "I don't wanna be a boy no more," over and over in between ragged sobs until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

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Celeste woke from her doze when Harry began squirming in her coils. She shifted, giving the boy more room, when she felt his body heat up. Alarmed she called his name but got no response.

Then he began to glow.

Celeste blinked, and in that split second, Harry was replaced by a beautiful young male Syren. Cautiously she scented him. It tasted like her Hairy...

Gently she nudged him with the tip of her nose.

"Hairy?"

He grunted and rolled over, dislodging several of his siblings. Their grumbling changed to stunned silence when they climbed back over their mother's coils and saw the transformation.

She nudged him again. "Hairy, wake up now."

Slowly his eyes opened and Celeste was happy to see brilliant green instead of silver.

"M'tired," he complained.

"I know, My Hairy, but I need you to look at yourself."

He looked down and then back to her.

"Why? What's wrong?"

Celeste watched as his eyes grew wide before he looked down again.

"I'm a Syren!"

Celeste nodded her head as the entire nest came to life. All of her hatchlings converged on the boy, scenting him and rubbing against his new scales. Their excited hissing reached heights not heard since Harry's first arrival in their lives.

"You're even bigger than me," Scales exclaimed. Scales was the largest of the hatchlings and Celeste knew he would be considered a giant among their kind when he was fully grown. And indeed her Wizard-ling was large for a Syren but she attributed that to his being a Wizard instead of a natural Syren.

She would have to see about enlarging their nest. With two such large males, and she herself was not small, they would need considerably more space before her babies were out on their own. For now she was happy to hear her little Hairy laughing and playing with his family.

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Celeste left the nest to her rambunctious hatchlings to hunt. It was nearly dawn and birds would be the most bountiful. Harry's new shape would make keeping him fed so much easier. As he had grown the Syren had become more and more concerned. It had been hard enough finding the rather large amount of mammalian prey required by a growing human when he had first appeared – and the amount had only grown. It had been too unsafe for him to eat birds, which were the Syren's primary food source. That, thankfully, would no longer be an issue.

She had observed him during the last three winters and knew her gentle Wizard-ling would give part of his food to his nest mates who had had no luck hunting that day. She detested the need that sent the boy into trash cans – scavenging for leavings. Syrens and Wizards alike were hunters, not scavengers and it sickened her that her hatchling would be reduced to such low behavior, but it had been necessary.

Now, though, now it felt like a great burden had been lifted from her. She basked in the feeling as she climbed a tree to await prey. No more worrying about Harry getting enough food, no more worrying about the humans or Wizards trying to take her hatchling. Now she could enjoy just being with her children.

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She caught several birds, stashing them in the vee of a tree branch until she had enough for her nest. Her brood would have to stay close to their nest for a few days as the forest was positively crawling with Wizards now. She had nearly been stepped on three times!

In particular she had noticed a dark haired Wizard, all in black with an interesting nose, and another rather ridiculously dressed Wizard with a long white beard. They seemed to be directing the invasion of her forest and that evening when she again ventured out, they were still searching. She laughed quietly to herself at the futility of their actions.

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For a solid week Celeste kept her children in the nest while the Wizards wreaked havoc in the forest. Harry had become overwrought again when he had heard about them being so close, but the security of his new form helped the family calm him down again.

Finally they were gone and Celeste couldn't help the rather un-Syren-like sigh of relief as her children dashed out of the nest to play and hunt. She climbed to the top of the tree that roofed their nest and basked in the sun. The height of the tree allowed her to both listen and see the goings on of the forest, as well as letting her fly quickly if any of her family needed help.

Quite frankly if the Wizards hadn't left on their own she was likely to have gone on a killing spree. Being trapped in a small nest with seven rambunctious young Syrens and a semi-hysterical Wizard-ling was a trying experience for short spans of time, but a week! Celeste had been at her wit's end this morning as she'd scouted the deserted forest.

Thank the Winds she could breathe a bit now.