Cupboard under the Stairs

Random PreHogwarts drabble

Growing up under the stairs was never too terrible for Harry.

Dudley was the Dursleys' actual child, so he most likely should have received the bigger things, toys, food and room. Lesser amounts of toy, in his opinion, was reasonable. It was mostly due to the fact that Harry had more responsibilities than his relative, and in such, would have less time to play with them. Harry was sometimes okay with not getting as much food as his cousin because, to be honest, he occasionally pictured Dudley as a whale. The cupboard that acted as his room was small, but it was okay. It had to be normal because it seemed to make sense to him. Besides, when some of the students at St. Grogery's Primary School talked about their families staying over, they talked about how their relatives would stay in rooms smaller than theirs, some even had to sleep on couches or the floor.

The very thought of it often made Harry crinkle his nose, making him look like he ate something extremely sour. The couch in the Dursley home was all nice and cushiony for guests to sit on, but sleep? Definitely not. The sitting space itself was not that big, so if he were to toss and turn in his sleep like usual, Harry would soon find himself on the ground. In Harry's book, the floor itself wasn't a cheerful option either. He knew best at how gross the carpet was. He was the one who had to clean it, after all.

Sure, his room wasn't what other kids would call perfect. He didn't expect them to, but all the same, it was unique. After all, what other kids his age could claim that their bed was as big as their room? The young Potter probably was also one of the only kids his age that could truthfully say he wasn't afraid of spider. The cupboard often had spiders within. In the winter of the year he turned five, there was one spider that was always spinning webs in the lower corners of the room, the underside of the bottom of the stairs. Whenever someone walked on the stairs, loose dust would fall down and get into the webs, essentially destroying the strings. After a week, give or take, Harry had dubbed the spider as Sir Webber.

His toys, despite how few of them, were usually horses and knights. He knew a little about the time period the toys were inspired from; topics such as towns, castles, animals, and titles. Rather than the higher class titles of "king" and "prince", Harry had favored "sir" the most. Obviously, that title was a must for his new friend. Harry had chosen the second half because of, well, webs. A few years later, when he was in his later time of childhood, Harry would have been the first to admit that wasn't the most creative. But still, it had been easy for the five-year-old boy to remember. He faintly remembered the small spider a few years later when Hagrid rambled on fondly of his Aragog.

Sir Webber, even though he hadn't been able to converse, had been Harry's first friend.

However, Sir Webber had gone within a few months. Aunt Petunia had spotted his eight-legged friend and went after him with a flyswatter. Harry had cried for a week after the tragic event, and he had a morose atmosphere around him as his did his assigned chores.

Growing up under the stairs was never too terrible for Harry.

He had a room for his own privacy that contained a bed with a pillow and a sleeping bag. Most people wouldn't really know, but the sleeping bag was really warm. The cupboard's tallest wall even had shelves that Harry was able to use to hold his few toys and an occasional book. The door connecting his room to the rest of the house even had a metal grate. While his Aunt Petunia used it daily to wake him up, Harry was able to use it to listen to conversations in the evening. When Dudley, in his childhood, and his parents had watched the telly in the family room, Harry had been able to listen to bits and pieces of what was on because of the openings in grate.

His room never got very cold, but sometimes it did get very hot. That was an easy fix though because on the wall opposite of the door was the thermostat. When he started to sweat, Harry was able to just turn the temperature down a few degrees, and his relatives never knew the difference. Sometimes when his aunt and uncle accompanied their son and his friends somewhere, Harry could set the temperature as low or high as he wanted. Given that he change it back before his relatives returned home. In one of his bouts of childhood brilliance, he used the temperature to help dry surfaces. The kitchen's tiled floor had never dried so quickly after being mopped.

During the nights in his room, Harry was able to really think about some things. His thoughts varied from how to clean things faster, what he should cook for the next morning's meal and even about, dare he say it, magic. The thought had always enticed him, made him wonder what life would be like with said power. Of course, the idea of him fantasizing about magic would horrify his family, so he never mentioned it to them.

Growing up under the stairs was never too terrible for Harry. It had all seemed completely normal to him, and it struck him odd when he was moved upstairs into his cousin's toy room. That was, of course, before he went to Hogwarts for the first time.

Fin