What Are the Chances? (Dare/Wishons)

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare felt a wave of relief when the only thing keeping him from exploding had been the presence of a small child. He inclined his head gratefully to Mr. Wishon without actually looking at him. "Sometimes people are afraid of what they don't understand," Dare said, "but it's because they want to keep you safe." Dare wouldn't undermine their authority, especially when the boy's father was cooperating somehow. He wouldn't tell the boy that his parents were liars, or that they were anything less than the heroes that parents tended to be at that age.

He stood, slowly enough not to spook anyone, and crossed to the stairs, then squatted a couple feet away from the boy and his mother. "When I was little, my brother and I accidentally shrunk our bunk bed until it was as small as my shoe. We didn't want to go to sleep, and it just happened. Did anything like that ever happen to you?"

[Rhys Moreau]

Peter once again looked over at his father, then gave a tentative smile. "My blanket flew all over mummy once," he said, spreading his arms in imitation of the flying blanket. "It was hot." Above him, his mother's face was tense and her hands were resting on his shoulders, though they appeared to be there more so she could grab him and run than for comfort.

Rhys stole a glance over at his father, wondering how the change had happened. Maybe the changes in the world had worked on him and he'd learned that the things Rhys had said for so long were true.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I bet that surprised her," Dare said, his lips curving ever so slightly. "I surprised her earlier, and Mrs. Wishon, I'm sorry for that. I fixed your plate for you." He left it at that for her. He could feel how scared she was, and if there was one thing he'd learned from his brother's introversion it was that leaving them alone to calm down was usually a good idea.

"I have two little boys who make things happen sometimes. Would you like to see a picture of them?" He had several wizarding pictures in his wallet, but he also had his phone. He glanced back at Rhys, as though to ask if he should take it down a notch or keep going.

[Rhys Moreau]

Rhys looked over at Dare again, and nodded. Might as well show a magical picture. They were more or less past the point of no return now, there was little point in holding back. His father remained in silent thought.

Peter, meanwhile, nodded. He was getting more comfortable with Dare, it seemed, and didn't glance over at his father. "Yeah," he said, then added, as an almost afterthought, "please."

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"You're a very polite young man," Dare said. "I bet your parents are proud of you." He didn't remember if he said please without prompting at that age, but the kid could use some confidence. He seemed happy right now, and that would be good for everyone.

He pulled out an ordinary-looking leather wallet and flipped it open, then worked out the little plastic sheets with pictures tucked into them. "These aren't regular pictures," he said. Actually, they were completely regular, unless you were a Muggle. "They have a little bit of that special something in them." Magic. Which he'd totally say if he wasn't so close and the kid's parents weren't so obviously on-edge.

The first picture was one of two red-headed toddlers in dress robes, one on either side of a grinning black-haired baby in a fluffy green dress. The baby kept tugging at the bow on top of her head, and the twins kept wandering off the edges, though for the most part they were visible. There were more pictures, including one of Michael with Hero asleep half on his lap. "That's my best friend," he explained. It was true, and inoffensive to religious homophobes.

[Rhys Moreau]

Peter looked at the pictures, momentarily confused. "It's a movie, not a picture," he said. He'd seen very thin phones and electronics playing video before, so why not this? His mother, on the other hand, took a half step back, glancing over at her husband, uncertain and looking like she might bolt rather than stay to see more.

"The pictures he has are more like movies than the pictures on mum and dad's walls," Rhys interjected."They're still pictures, though."

"They move?" Rhys' father asked, pulling Rhys' attention to him.

"Yeah, I've got one, too." Most of his pictures of Matthew were on his phone, which he pulled out in addition to his moving picture of the two of them. He showed his father a picture on his phone first, then offered the paper one.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"It would be great if we could be open about all this," Dare said, for the parents' benefit, "but centuries ago it got to where we weren't safe anymore. People wanted magic to help them, but if anything went wrong it got messy. It was dangerous for us. That's why all this is secret, it's not because there's anything bad about it."

Dare paused, then reached back into his pocket for his phone after all. He poked at it a couple times, then stood slowly and offered an unmoving photo of his sons in a momentary peaceful hug. "My sons, Mrs. Wishon," he said hopefully.

[Rhys Moreau]

Rhys swiped through to find a picture he had of the twins to show his father as his mother looked at the picture, but made no move to shift closer to Dare. "Rhys loved seeing pictures of himself when he was that age," his father said. "Peter never cared for it."

Rhys had been fairly certain he would never hear anything of the sort from his father again and couldn't think of any proper response for it. He rested a light finger on the picture of him and Matthew laying on the table, then reached for his long-cold tea.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare swiped his finger across his phone's screen to find a picture of Isolde. "This is my daughter. She's teething now," he said to Mrs. Wishon. There were a couple pictures from the park, where the family was in Muggle clothing, and he showed those to her as well. Then he turned off the screen and slid the phone back into his pocket.

As for the little boy, Dare squatted down to take his pictures back and carefully replaced them in his wallet. "I bet you can't guess what my job is," he challenged Peter. "I'll give you a hint, though. I use that special stuff every day, only I can use them on purpose."

[Rhys Moreau]

Rhys' mother had had enough of it all. She muttered something about people like you and children before finally turning to dart up the stairs. Rhys' father did nothing to stop her. "I'll talk with her after you've gone," he assured them, though there was a sense that he felt the visit was going on a little too long.

Honestly, Rhys didn't have an issue with that, they'd had more success today than he could ever have dreamed. Peter was failing at being able to come up with an answer, although that could have been due to the sudden departure of their mother.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I'm a teacher," Dare said, hoping he could get Peter's attention back. He was pretending that Mrs. Wishon's words hadn't stung. "I teach people how to control things so they don't have accidents." Without the boy's mother standing over him, Dare brought out his wand. "See this stick? It helps me so things do what I want them to. When you're older, maybe your parents will let you have one." He looked over his shoulder at Mr. Wishon, questioningly.

"What do you think, Mr. Wishon?" He pushed to his feet and turned to face the room. "I don't have answers to your religious questions, not any more than I've tried to give, but I could try to help you learn about this so you can think about it. I can talk to you and your son if that's okay."

[Rhys Moreau]

Rhys' father watched Dare for a few moments before turning his gaze to Peter, his jaw set as he thought. "I'll consider it, that's all I can say," he said after a time.

"Are you going to tell him who I am?" Rhys asked, looking at his father expectantly. "I can, but it would probably be better coming from you." Leaving with the boy still not knowing he had an older brother who cared was out of the question.

His father's jaw clenched briefly. "You don't think he's learned enough for today?"

"No, and if you don't tell him, then I will."

"Peter, come here," his father said, though he still appeared reluctant. "Say hello to Rhys. He's your brother." Though Rhys knew his father only told Peter to avoid letting Rhys tell him himself, it was good to hear. 

"I don't have a brother," Peter said, giggling a little. Perhaps he thought it all was a bit of a game.

"Your bedroom was mine, actually," Rhys said. "It's the bigger of the two." 

Peter looked at Rhys curiously. "Can you do the special stuff?"

"Nope, just Dare over there. I can help you anyway, though, I have other friends that can do it." If they continued to tell Peter he would get to learn, then surely it would be more difficult for his parents to say no. 

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare headed back to the table and took a seat, though he didn't let himself get too comfortable. He knew they'd be leaving soon, but things seemed to be leveling out. "This is a pretty exciting day for you, isn't it?" Dare asked Peter. Then he looked at Mr. Wishon.

"Could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked. The look he gave said it was just things that weren't for little ears, but yes, it had occurred to him that it would mean letting Rhys and Peter talk. "It can be in this room, it doesn't matter." This isn't a trick.

[Rhys Moreau]

"Why don't you show me what your bedroom looks like?" Rhys asked, barely sparing a glance for permission from his father. He stood, taking the boy's hand to be led up the once familiar set of stairs.

Rhys' father watched as his sons disappeared together for the first time, uncertain how he felt about it but making no move to stop them. Things had gotten far out of his control. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked, pulling his gaze to the man who was still a stranger.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"Just a few things that might make it easier for you," Dare said. "You might have already noticed, but things happen more often when kids are feeling emotional. Scared, hurt, angry, or excited. There's not a lot you can do to stop it at this age. I was lucky enough to have one magical parent who knew what was going on, but you don't seem like a man who gives up when things get hard. Rhys is a good friend of mine, so I'm willing to do what I can to help his family. I'll answer any questions you have." Hopefully they wouldn't be along the lines of what gives you the right to exist? or did Satan send you to test me?