Before she received the letter from Hogwarts, she always thought that she would become an outstanding bartender like her father in the future, use the income from the inherited club to travel around the world, or become a magazine model, a movie star, anyway, she would have to do what she thought was the coolest thing.
Sure, being a wizard might be cooler, but it's far more dangerous than being a bartender, and hell, this was the fifth Quaffle that broke her arm.
Dumbledore: The way you do divination always reminds me of your father. God, he is definitely the most rebellious Jones. Of course, you are as talented as him, even smarter and braver than him.
Sirius and James: We smuggled in vodka, please, we want some screwdrivers, and Metropolis, we won't be drunk this time, please.
Remus: Thank you for the blood-replenishing potion you made for me, but I really am not pretending to be a man, and the days I am away every month are not because I have my period.
Lily: God, I will never help you write the History of Magic Notes again. If I help you again, I will read my name upside down. Why did you deduct another ten points? Don't tell me it's Potter and the others again.
Severus: The prank love letter you wrote was not funny at all, and those stupid Gryffindors finally blew your mind.
Regulus: Dear Jones, I can't stand it anymore. Stop sneaking into the Slytherin cellars and playing Muggle music. If you still don't change your ways after reading this letter, I don't mind a duel.
—Blake
In the end, she no longer cared whether her reckless actions would damage her soul. She ignored Dumbledore's dissuasion and risked her soul to resolutely complete the most dangerous soul link in the twentieth century.
In order to survive not only today but also the future, she murmured.
Intention: If you have anything to do, go to Jones, if you have nothing to do, go to the Raiders.