Whatever Jo had thought he’d say, it wasn’t all that.
She started a mental list to keep track of everything he told her. It wouldn’t do to forget valuable information at this stage in the game, especially when the rules…were that there were no rules.
1. Find way to avoid head of house’s ire—potentially succumb to calling him by his prefer moniker to avoid unwanted pranking attentions?
Jo suppressed the visible shudder that threatened to crawl over her skin. She had been raised to treat adults with positions of power over her with a facsimile of respect—true respect pending on the adult actually earning it. If he really insisted (and it seemed like he did) she’d learn to call him by his name. Rob.
It would take some getting used to, but judging by the way Rob still lingered at the teacher’s table despite how two of the other Heads were already visiting their students, she had plenty of time to come to terms with it. Rob. They certainly wouldn’t let students call professors by their first names at Hogwarts.
Well, it didn’t seem like Elliot knew (or cared?) to share more about <s>his</s> their house. Jo would have to learn more about her peers the old-fashioned way: speaking to them. Jo suppressed another shudder.
2. Aquila has good Quidditch team— potentially use insider knowledge acquired here to bet on students who become professionals after graduation
While Jo couldn’t do so much as ride a broom, she had a huge passion for the sport.
“I love Quidditch,” Jo said vehemently. “I follow it every chance I get. You said the team’s good, right? Did you…excuse me, did we win last season?”
Best not to mention the fantasy Quidditch leagues and borderline illegal gambling habit, even in a house of self-proclaimed deviants. She’d look up each of the house’s stats for the last fifty years and start making predictions as soon as she knew enough about the current roster and team strategies. Maybe there was a fantasy RMI league? She’d have to look into it.
Something else Elliot said caught her attention.
“Wait a moment; I’m sorry, you said Lyra Knight?” Jo asked. The Beastlys (her mother’s family) were, of course, familiar with the Knights, but Jo had never met the family personally. “She got away with a public poisoning?”
Jo looked to where Elliot was pointing. She vaguely recognized the girl from the society pages her mother made her read: long brown hair, a subtle jawline, and a rod welded to her back as if something would shock her if she slouched. As a Pureblood should sit, of course. Jo practiced similar posture and actually straightened a bit when she noticed her back had pitched slightly when she’d peered over her chair to see.
Jo hesitated a moment before saying anything about Darlene Knight. It wasn’t every day (just most days) even a Pureblood could get away with poisoning someone if it was so public that everyone knew it happened. Her parents had obviously been involved and money had likely changed hands if she still attended school here.
She wondered if Darlene had been forced to come back or if she had requested it. Jo didn’t know what was worse. The Knights were prominent in the UK, just like the Beastlys were. It seemed like Darlene was in a similar situation now to the one her mother (and now Jo) had been in. There was only one way to know for certain:
3. Meet Darlene Knight at all costs.