Sorry it was later, it was exams, then I had a cold. XP So extra long chapter.
"I say into the mental hospital she goes!" said one guy.
The other guy, the one who wouldn't talk, was disagreeing with him as enthusiastically as you can without saying anything. Which, as it turned out, was pretty enthusiastically.
The guy with the vast knowledge of sunflowers just seemed to want the money. "She could be dangerous! Who knows what they locked her up for!"
Alex had just been standing there without saying anything until then, she wasn't planning on going with them either way, but she couldn't resist the chance to make a person look stupid, "They 'lock people up' in mental hospitals because they're mental, you idiot!"
At this point, Alex and Sunflower guy started arguing, which I will not go into because it is dull. They did not, either of them, think out what they were going to say and as a result got lines thrown into this 'argument' that were blatantly obvious. One of my favourites being, "Cheetos are orange!"
But, hilarious as it was, it had to stop. The almost completely forgotten sunflower had been sitting there being quiet for quite some time now, and had finally gotten bored. So it decided to leave, but hell if it wasn't taking it's cousins with it too!
The sunflower's roots shot up from the spilt dirt, only they did not look like they belonged to it. Actually, if you were logical (which so few people ever seem to be) the roots could not have belonged to the sunflower, because the sunflower was in a tiny pot, and the roots were huge. Think Jack and the beanstalk, and the roots are the size of the beanstalk.
The roots grabbed Alex, the quiet guy, and the other potted plants, then dragged them underground.
Surprisingly though, it was a lot easier then you might think. It was like being pulled through water, only they could breathe, and they couldn't see the top, no matter how close they were. They sunk through like the ground wasn't solid.
They came out in a circular, dome shaped room lit by torch light.
A green man, who looked like he had been made out of plants, stepped forward. He had shoulder length he had shoulder length hair, and a beard that looked like it hadn't been combed since it was grown. Or, they looked like hair. If you looked closer, closer then Alex was going to at the moment, you would see that his hair and beard, wasn't actually hair, it was a mess of vines coming out of his head.
"What are you doing in my rooms?" he asked, while taking off his crown and polishing a spot on his robes. His crown was made of some brown metal, with emeralds and sapphires set in it.
When both Alex and Quiet Guy failed to answer, he turned his face to the men behind him, both of who were dressed in knights' armour. Unlike their King, they looked perfectly normal, except for a slight greenish tint to their skin.
"Guards," said the King authoritatively, "Take them to the holding room, the bloody kids can wait, I have more important things to deal with."
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Thousands of miles away, weeks later, and oh yeah, in one of the circles of hell, though admittedly not one of the deeper ones, Chelsea was finishing a beginners course at night school. Apparently, now that they knew what she could do, there were a lot of things she had to learn before it would be safe for her to get to Hogwarts.
She had her fire summoning ability basics down, as well as making portals, which she learnt, it was possible for a user of any of the five basic elements to make. One of the best parts was that they worked at Hogwarts, and in other warded places, so Chelsea was ecstatic. Vampira was, after all, her first friend, besides her siblings.
For the two months of night school Chelsea had stayed with Vampira and her diplomat husband - Count Dracula, and their son - Dominic. Dominic had died when he was a teenager, so that's how old he stayed whilst in hell. Vampira and Dracula had the young but wise looks the undead species have. Over this time, Chelsea had gotten very well acquainted with Vampira and Dominic, though not the Count, as he was left often and for long amounts of time.
But now, the beginner course was over, and they got back to what Chelsea had been occupied with when they first met, Hogwarts. And this was why Vampira was currently leading Chelsea towards the Counts' barely-entered study.
They entered the study, whenever someone entered the room, their eyes were immediately drawn to the desk across from the door, it was made of mahogany and was very proud. Behind it was a tall-backed brown chair that begged attention. It was one of those chairs that had to belong to an important person; however, it was empty at the moment. The complete left and back walls of the room were dominated by a wall length bookcase, both stuffed with books leaving no place for souvenirs or trinkets from his travels among them.
Along the right wall was a couch faced with two arm chairs. The Count was sitting on this couch reading a book with a look of pure disgust on his face. The cover of the book read 'Count Dracula' and under that 'by Bram Stoker'.
"Not only, is his representation of me completely heinous, but he is a horrible author!" he immediately launched into a rant. "He actually takes the time to describe each and every tree that they are passing by on the carriage ride! This Stoker bastard takes the time to write this infernal book, preaching the evils of vampire society, in the process getting us banned from Heaven, and yet that prejudiced bastard got in! Unbelievable!"
The Count spit out Bram Stokers last name like it was something vile; apparently he was very unloved amongst vampires, as Chelsea had found out when she asked Vampira about it, upon learning her husbands' name. Vampira gave him a look, her hands still covering Chelsea's ears, where they had been since the first curse.
Dracula just seemed to notice her, and had the grace to look, at least slightly, embarrassed that he had sworn in front of an eleven year old. But he cleared his throat and continued like this, "Vampira has told me about your problems about getting into Hogwarts, and we can fix that, not that you should need it much anymore considering you're done the first course."
Did I mention that Chelsea had agreed to come back every few months to take more advanced courses?
"What, you're going to threaten my parents?"
"Yes. The locals have taken to you and a lot of them have agreed to help out, they rarely get the chance to go back up to that circle anyway."
"...Cool."
Which was why, a half hour later Chelsea was back at Malfoy Manor, with about fifty inhabitants of hell, and she was finally facing off her 'Father'. Who, by the way, had strutted into the room about ten minutes after they had gotten there. And then screamed and ran away, they hadn't exactly rung the doorbell to get in.
He peaked around the corner again about twenty minutes later. Vampira and the Count stepped forward. "We have heard that you aren't letting our friend Chelsea here," he gestured to Chelsea, "go to Hogwarts. You may want to re-think that." It was said in an intimidating, threatening voice. And was promptly complied with. They did, after all have a small army behind them.
Lucius was forced to write a note to Dumbledore, for good measure, and he feinted immediately after. The citizens of hell returned to their town, except for Vampira and Dracula. They, along with Chelsea of course, portalled to Hogsmeade. They could have gone straight to the castle, but no one thought it was a good idea to show everyone that they could do that.
It was in the middle of the first Hogsmeade trip of the year and the gates were open so they could just walk in. They headed to Dumbledores' office to show him Lucius' note and get Chelsea finally enrolled. Unfortunately, the gargoyle got in their way, so they had to wait for a teacher to walk by, as they still didn't think it was a good idea to portal in Hogwarts.
After only a half hour Minerva McGonagull passed by. "Excuse me miss," the Count was using a dazzle spell on her, "would you kindly tell us the password to the headmasters' study? We have some business to discuss with him."
McGonagull looked flustered, an effect of the dazzle spell Dracula did. "L-lemon drops," she sounded confused, but no one took any notice. We all turned and walked up the staircase, not waiting for it to spin to the top. Chelsea knocked on the door.
They heard Dumbledore say "enter," so they entered.
Dracula walked up to Dumbledores' desk, "This is Chelsea Black, she was supposed to have been enrolled in this school a month ago, she was taking a course at another school, it resulted in her being late. I apologize that she couldn't have taken it earlier. We have a letter from her father, he has agreed to let her attend this school."
Dumbledore took the note, from the look on his face you'd never guess how bizarre it was for a student to turn up to term over a month late. "Very well Miss Black," he said, "Let's just get you sorted," and he pulled the sorting hat from amongst it's perch on one of the many shelves on the perimeter of the room, surrounded by metallic instruments, clicking and shooting out clouds of smoke. "When the sorting hat is placed on your head, Miss Black," said Dumbledore, recalling her attention from one instrument that was humming a particularly interesting tune, "the sorting hat will decide which house you would be best suited for."
And the sorting hat was placed on Chelsea's head. "A shame," the hat said. It sounded like it was whispering in her ear, but by now, Chelsea had had more experience with the unusual then the standard first year being sorted, and she was mostly unfazed. "If you had been here at the beginning of the year you could have heard my song. You are the girl that was missing then?"
"Uhm... Yes... I suppose."
"Anyway, to the sorting. You could do well in Gryffindor or Slytherin, you have certain qualities of both. You are clever and resourceful, but you are also daring and courageous. You seem to have the knack for getting into trouble that many Gryffindors have, but you have a Slytherin temper as well..."
There was a pause and then... "Slytherin!" The volume of the hat's yell shook the papers on the Headmasters' desk.