Understairs (Harry Potter fanfic)

Locked Cupboard

It was a nine-to-five kind of life with no end in sight.

"No, that's not quite right."

Except—

It was true there never seemed to be any end to the work wee, to the point it felt like the end of one workweek blended into the start of another.

"How? How did it end up being this way?"

Growing up, Alisha never imagined she would have everyday, ordinary office job where there was that expectation of working from nine to five each day doing the same thing over and over again. Nor did she expect to find herself working through lunch, after work hours, and on the weekend, even nixing her vacation time in favor of taking her work home to make sure major projects were done on time.

And the thing was, she could have said no.

The problem was, she didn't have any reason to say no.

"Why? Why did I end up having no reason to say no?"

Alisha wasn't sure.

There was—

Moving into the house she lived in, paying rent—that was her way of becoming independent, living her own life, and becoming her own person. There was a sense of pride that went with that, of being able to afford the rent for a house rather than an apartment, albeit because the rent was a definite steal, something she cult brag to her friends about when she first managed to secure herself the quaint little house.

Except, there wasn't any friend to which she could brag.

True, there were one or two friends during high school with whom she hung out, and there were also her friends from her college study group, yet none of the friendships stuck once she graduated. Whenever Alisha thought back on when she'd graduated from high school and college, she felt they'd gone in different directions, first to the college of her choice, and then when she graduated from college, she'd landed her dream job.

Yet, when she started at her job, she didn't form any connections with others, and there didn't seem any real reason to do anything other than work. Alisha was, after all, an adult and expected to do the adult thing, rather than clinging onto childish things and childish notions. As for college, she started doing the adult thing early, which perhaps might explain why her social circle was limited to whoever joined a given study group that semester.

"Didn't I have better things to do, such as being a responsible adult, infallible, not ever making a mistake. And when it comes to work, I've never made a mistake."

This wasn't entirely true, as there had been a few mistakes in the few years she'd been at the company. Alisha made sure to correct herself.

So, every morning she woke up, got out of bed, and got dressed to work, as work permeated her life every day. Nor did she have any clothes that were a little more casual, unless, of course, she wanted to dress in the sweats she wore to bed, which sometimes she did when she was feeling slightly rebellious against the non-existent establishment. Still, most days, she wanted to be decent if anybody came to the door.

Alisha then headed down the stairs, preparing for herself the same breakfast each day, though there was some variance based on which day of the week it was. Getting to eat at home on the weekends was a nice treat, even if she did the same meal each time. Sometime during the day, she would do a quick cleaning of her rented abode and a deep clean on the weekends because that was the adult thing to do.

Sometimes she pretended the deep clean was an exciting thing in her life, but in truth, there was practically nothing exciting in her life.

Nothing that is, except for—

When Alisha first arrived, she noticed a quaint little cupboard under the stairs. She didn't think to look in the place, as she found herself far more interested in the rent for a house that she could afford on her salary. She signed the contract, thoroughly planning on figuring out where to put things when she was done, such as the books and movies from childhood that she might pass onto her own children one day, though there were no plans on settling down with someone.

The quaint little cupboard seemed like the ideal place for such nonsense, only for her to find the door locked.

There was no key either.

So, the box instead ended up on a shelf in her closet so it wouldn't be a tripping hazard—there was always a risk of a leak in the attic, and ruined books meant mold and mildew sight unseen, something Alisha knew she didn't need.

The closet under the stairs also remained shut tight, locked as she couldn't even find the key, not that there was any place to look. The person she rented the home from was honestly baffled, with no answers regarding where the key might have gotten to, though they promised they would keep an eye out for said key.

That was three years ago, and three years later, Alisha found herself thinking to herself, "I'm living a nine to five kind of life. How did I get to this point?"

She went to bed the night before thinking such a thing. She got up in the morning and prepared to get dressed, starting into the same old, same old routine.

Only, the box on her shelf somehow ended up on the floor. "Odd."

She picked up the Harry Potter book—which she didn't stop to see—and put the box back before heading downstairs. She passed by the cupboard, planning on making herself lunch and—

Alisha paused, turning to look at the open closet. She stared, her mind going numb for a brief moment. She glanced up, looking at the front door, checking to make sure the door was still locked, before turning back around to see the closet was still closed. She started towards the door, peeking in at the darkroom, seeing nothing.

It was too dark.

A hand reached in, clicking the light on, and light flooded the place.

Disappointment washed over her that all she saw were empty shelves and nothing strange or exciting which might change her routine. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in, thinking maybe something was inside out of her line of sight.

That was when the door snapped shut behind her, and the light went out.