As soon as Quinn was done screaming bloody murder, she shut her eyes tight and tried to communicate with Blackjack through horse-to-Sea-God's-daughter telepathic words.

Hey, Blackjack, you there?

A neigh echoed in her brain, then a horsey laugh.

Yo, boss!

I told you not to call me boss, Blackjack.

Whatever floats your boat, boss.

Listen, Blackjack, I need you to do a HUGE favor for me. See, I'm kind of stuck in England in this crazy mental boarding school for magic, and I kind of need your help to escape, so…

Listen, boss, you know I'm up for anything, but England? Isn't England infested with stuck-up jerks who look like they have sticks up their butts and drink tea 24/7?

Blackjack…!

Okay, okay, boss! I'm coming right now, but I'm warning you: When we get back home, you're giving me three extra sugar cubes every night.

Quinn laughed out loud, her eyes still shut.

Sure, Blackjack.

She opened her eyes again.

"Blackjack's coming," She told a mystified Dumbledore. "He's my Pegasus. I'm the daughter of Poseidon, so he and I are indirectly related. That means we can also communicate telepathically."

Dumbledore's sparkly blue eyes widened. Then, he said, "Why has a demigod such as yourself come to our humble school?"

Quinn frowned.

"Yeah… how's a mortal like yourself know about demigods?"

"Well, Miss Jackson, your mentor Chiron and I are very good friends." He chuckled fondly, and addressed his bewildered students and staff members for the first time.

"This young lady, as some of you had already guessed, is none other than Poseidon's daughter, more commonly known as the Lightning Thief."

All of the students began to blabber at once.

"She's a demigod! A real life demigod!"

"She's Poseidon's daughter! She's the Sea God's daughter!"

"The Lightning Thief- wow, she's been in the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler for months!"

"What in the name of Zeus is the Daily Prophet?" Quinn asked Dumbledore. He ignored her and raised a palm, as if to say, STOP! They all quieted down, but glances were shot at Quinn. She self-consciously looked down at her outfit: A turquoise jacket over her plain button-down reading, Thing Two. A pair of shorts revealed her skinny legs, and her long socks under her white tennis shoes almost reached her knees. She glared at the weird Brit kids' pristine black robes and pulled a short strand of black hair that escaped from her Ancient-Greek styled ponytail back into place.

"Yes, yes, I know it is very exciting to be in the midst of such a form," His eyes twinkled as he took in Quinn's awkward position, "but we all must act civilized as we host our guest."
Quinn couldn't take it anymore; she spoke up.

"Whoa, dude, slow down!" She said hurriedly. "I'm not staying here! Camp Half-Blood needs me! Gaea's commanding war, for the gods' sakes! Do you really think I'm going to learn magic when the Prophecy of Seven is at stake!? No, sir! Not today!"

The silence was so thick, Quinn could cut it with a butter knife.

"Miss Jackson…" began a slow, brooding voice from up at the staff table. A man, with sallow white skin and a scowl so fierce he'd bring Clarisse to shame, seemed to have spoken. Quinn screamed frustratingly and threw Riptide across the hall. Luckily, he ducked just in time, so it hit the wall behind him. Dumbledore turned to stare sternly at Quinn disapprovingly.

"Now, Miss Quinn, we do NOT try to decapitate our future professors!" He told her. Quinn let out a tiny sob.

"You- you- you dummy, I told you I'm not staying…" She sobbed and threw her arms around Dumbledore's frail shoulders. He awkwardly patted her back.

"There, there…"

"What about Harry-'Otter-or-other? What about him, what about Camp Half-Blood, what about the Earth Goddess and Leo Valdez and Hazel Coach Hedge and Jason Grace and Frank and Piper and Annabeth? What about them?"

"Harry's been missing?" Someone called out in a shrill voice. Quinn whipped around to face a fluffy-haired girl with stern brown eyes and flushed pink cheeks. Quinn glared at her.

"Yup, I met the guy during my dream. Eugh. Demigod dreams suck rotten horse eggs. And speaking of horses, where in Hades is Blackjack?!"

"Forgive me, Miss Jackson, I've put enchantments around the school. It appears to be your horse is now struggling to get into Hogwarts, and he's complaining about how his boss better pay him 50 sugar cubes for his rough journey or he shall go and- how does he say it- rip your head off bits to bits," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"You speak Horse?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. Dumbledore smiled secretively and brandished a wand from his robes. He muttered something indistinct, and instantly a horsey scream echoed around in Quinn's ears as Blackjack came flying in through the Great Hall, a wild look in his eyes. Oohs and ahhhs echoed around the Great Hall.

Yo, boss! I've just flew over the forest they have here- nasty stuff, man! He neighed as he trotted close to Quinn. Several people sighed over the beautiful Pegasus. Quinn just smiled.

Cool, did they have any nymphs?

Nope, only giant tarantulas and centaurs who were screaming that the end of the world was begun.

"C'mon, Blackjack, take us home." Quinn started to get on her horse, when a stern-sounding voice from the head table piped up.

"It appears that a voice inside my head proclaiming itself a goddess has just told me that it has blocked off all exits outside the school and that you should be a good girl and give the gods entertainment," The voice said, and Quinn looked up to see a stern, middle-aged woman with gray hair tight in a bun standing up at the head table, looking a bit sick.

"Well, that settles things!" Dumbledore smiled cheerfully. Blackjack neighed.

Man, this guy is way too optimistic for my taste. Want me to trample him, boss?

Actually, yeah, but we'll be outnumbered if we try to kill the guy. C'mon, let's just wait and see if my dad'll rescue us.

"Well, if I'm gonna be a student here, I guess it wouldn't be so bad to get well-acquainted with you. Um, who are you?"

"I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster here at Hogwarts. It is a privilege to teach you, although I am not quite sure where Harry is right now, and I am severely worried over his well-being."
"Don't worry, he's at Camp Half-Blood. He's safe for now… if Mr. D accepts him. The overgrown brat is kind of like Headmaster, only he's a lot ruder and disgusting. And Greek."

"So he'll be safe at your school?" a voice yelled out next to the fluffy-haired girl, and a boy with orangey red hair and freckles came into view. His face was anxiously waiting for her response.

"If Mr. D accepts him, which he might not. Then we're really screwed at that point." Quinn shrugged and dismounted her horse. He nickered at her.

"So, Dumble-Bumble, where'm I supposed to sit, huh?" She asked, looking around wildly. A squeaky voice echoed from the head table.

"You need to get Sorted into one of the houses, Miss Jackson, in order to become a proper Hogwarts student!"

Murmurs of agreement passed throughout the Head Table. Quinn scowled.

"Sorted, huh? Sort've like being claimed all over again."

Hey, guys! I'm sorry for being such a sucky updater, but I hoped you like this chapter!

Love, hugs, and all that jazz,

Lyricalyrics