WARNINGS: Slight pre-slash if you've got goggles on :)

Barry would be the first to admit that the relationship between him and his dad wasn't exactly smooth.

Frank Rabe was the new generation of wesen, perfectly capable of giving up old ways to make it easier to blend in with the human world. But Barry wasn't him – Barry had been brought up mainly by his mother, and he had learned far more of the old traditions than simply the Roh-hatz that had gone so wrong.

In the end, Barry Rabe was more his mother's son than his father's, and both of them knew it.

That was, perhaps, why his father made sure that he was almost constantly busy once he had been released from juvenile detention. It had been a month before Christmas when he had re-joined the world, and in the three weeks since then, Barry couldn't remember a moment when he had been truly free to do what he wanted.

"A music programme?" he asked his father disbelievingly, "And a classical music programme at that?" The utter thought of it was impossible to Barry – he couldn't imagine himself enjoying classical music of any kind, especially not after he had been forced into an evening of Beethoven just a few days ago.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it," his father replied, looking unruffled by his son's shock. "The kids performing are all your age, and Nick mentioned that one of them is both a prodigy and wesen. If nothing else, you can entertain yourself by trying to figure out who and what kind of wesen that young person is."

Barry gave him a dark glare, but it was obvious that his father wasn't about to budge in his decision. He had no doubt that he would be doing exactly as his father suggested – classical music wasn't something that held any interest to him.

Really, he could practically hear his father laughing at him, even though he had mostly been right.

It hadn't been interesting – it was just typical Christmas carols, only without the lyrics, and as far as Barry was concerned, there wasn't anything particularly brilliant about the way it was being played on the stage. The place might have been a prestigious music school, but it didn't exactly look like they had very high standards. The idea of a prodigy among the people he had already seen and heard was laughable, and there definitely wasn't anyone clearly wesen there either.

And then the last performer stepped on stage.

Identifying him as wesen was almost stupidly easy – he woged as soon as he cast an eye on his audience – but that didn't mean that Barry believed that he was any sort of prodigy.

Of course, then he – the programme he had been given at the start of the show identified him as Roddy Geiger – began to play. It took maybe a few moments to identify the tune as 'Silent Night,' and then it was almost like he was in another world, drifting on the notes that the reinigen was playing on the stage.

He didn't know how long the boy on the stage played, and he could barely recall exactly what he played. All he knew that the music that came from his violin was perhaps the most beautiful he had ever heard in his life.

Prodigy indeed.

When he finally stopped playing, and the show came to close, Barry had learned a few things about himself. For one, he could learn to love classical music if it was played as well as the reinigen had. For another, he had a strange suspicion that he would be dropping by the Von Hamelin Institute often after school for whatever reason he could make up. As interesting as the music had been, its player had captured his attention just as much.

His father would be pleased, not having to figure out new ways to keep him busy. He had a feeling finding out all he possibly could about Roddy Geiger would do that job rather well.

"I told you you would enjoy it."

Barry just settled for another glare.

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