You're almost halfway down the stairs when you hear the voices coming from the living room.

You hesitate, because really you ought to be in bed, and you know it. They won't like it if they find you got up. Not that they'd get cross, exactly, but your mum gets that sort of hurt look when you tell her you can't sleep, and that's always worse. She might make you a drink of warm milk to help you sleep, too, and you hate that. Eugh. Warm milk.

Then you catch the word "Hogwarts", and decide it's worth trying to listen in. You've been looking forward to going ever since you were shown that picture of your mum and dad at school once. They looked really happy in it -- her beaming and triumphant in blue Quidditch robes, him standing next to her and smiling, adjusting his red and gold tie.

You creep carefully down the rest of the stairs, and sit down on the bottom step. The voices are much clearer here.

"There's no point in pretending that they're suddenly going to accept him! It's unfortunate, but really, we need to start considering... other options."

"Such as? I want my son to get an education, and I'm not going to give up-"

Her voice breaks off. You're suddenly positive that you really, really shouldn't be listening, but somehow you can't move.

"I am not giving up. I'm saying that Hogwarts has decided. There are other places."

"Not as good."

"Maybe not. But we aren't in a position to be choosy here, and if Remus has a chance elsewhere that we're not giving him by wasting our time trying to persuade Hogwarts..."

Understanding hits. You stare at the dark wood of the living room door, completely lost. Hogwarts doesn't want you. What happens now? Do you count as a Squib, then, even if you did explode the kitchen door that time?

"I just... I want the best for him, and it's so unfair. I swear, if we get one more letter from somebody who wants me to put my son "out of his misery", then I'll... oh, I don't know what I'd do, but I don't think I could stand it."

You've only heard your mum sound that obviously upset once before, and that time your dad asked you to go and play in your room. It's kind of scary. Your mum shouldn't sound like that, not ever.

"I know."

Your dad sounds oddly quiet. You wonder if that means they're going to cry, but the only sound that comes is footfalls, then a noise that you think is a sigh.

"We can't do anything about any of it now, anyway. Come on - it's late. Let's go to bed."

The sounds get closer, and you get up quickly. Your bum's a bit numb from sitting on the cold stairs, but you only half notice. You tiptoe back to bed, but though it's still nice and warm, you don't get to sleep.