Author: Justified
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: I don't own any BTVS characters...(but if I did, season six and onwards would have undergone some serious reconstructions. )
Note: Italics are thoughts

She slowly sauntered through the dark hallway that snaked around the second floor of the house, only stopping to open the occasional door and glance at what lay beyond it.

Most of the rooms were empty, with the exception of one or two that had beds. After a little while, she realized that her bedroom was one of the biggest spaces (apart from her parents room) on this floor of the house. Then Willow noticed the stairs that lead up to the attic. She remembered spotting the window from outside and suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to investigate further. She walked cautiously to the base and looked up. The stairs curled around to the left therefore obscuring the top from her view.

Willow glanced over her shoulder. For some reason she felt like a naughty child sneaking into some forbidden playroom. Shaking her head, she warily placed her foot on the first step. As it creaked, she felt another rush of anticipation hit her and that spurred her to move up further. The stairs were dusty and each one groaned and lurched more than the last. Finally, she reached the top. With a careful hand, she turned the brass doorknob and edged the door open. Willow was instantly hit with a strong, musty smell, indicating just how long this room had been left unused. She began to lay eyes upon its contents. First, she spotted the window she had seen earlier, then just to the right of it, an old chest. On the other side of the tiny room, where the sloping ceiling met the floor, there were some wooden crates, a tall mirror, an old dresser drawer and a dust-ridden gramophone. Willow's eyes went wide with curiosity. Her expectation had not gone un-rewarded. The room held more than she had ever hoped for in the first place. There was so much to be discovered, so much to see and do. Where would she start?

Before she even had the chance to move completely inside the room, she heard her mother calling. It was dinnertime. With a frustrated sigh, she shut the door and headed back downstairs. The attic will just have to wait until later.

All through tea, Willow couldn't shake the restless sensation in the pit of her stomach. She needed to explore that room. "I'm going back to my room." She said bluntly, not caring or even noticing the obviously offended looks on her parents' faces. "Uh, ok." Her mother said, examining her emotionally. "Night." Willow stated nonchalantly before standing and rushing up the stairs to the second floor landing. She negotiated her way through the hall to the attic stairs and this time, trying to make as little noise as possible, crept up. Upon entering the pitch-black room, she searched for a light switch. After a fruitless few minutes, she realized her dilemma and irritably conceded to finding a torch and then returning. Twenty minutes and five unpacked boxes later, she arrived back at the attic, flashlight in hand, finally ready to behold her mysterious new treasures. She first tiptoed carefully over to the chest near the window. There was no lock, so opening it wasn't any challenge whatsoever. Inside she found some exceedingly old, almost medieval looking material. It was thick and covered with complex patterns and designs. Some of it was silk, some cotton and some a fabric she couldn't quite identify. There were a few different colours but all of it was beautiful. Willow smiled to herself, reasonably satisfied with her first discovery.

Quickly moving on, she made her way over to the two wooden crates. They each held about fifteen vintage records; some of them original prints and most were probably worth a lot of money. Willow smirked this time, seeing a possible visit to e-bay in her future. Not really bothering to examine the old gramophone closely, she swiftly eyed the mirror and moved onto the dresser drawer. She opened every compartment but they were all empty. Feeling a little discouraged, Willow looked down at her watch, it was nearly midnight. She turned to leave the room but then something stopped her. She felt like she'd missed something.