分卷阅读15（2 / 2）

“You met with the investigators on Bertrice’s case, did you not?”

“How—”

“Even if I hadn’t recognised you the moment I first saw you, you’re wearing the exact clothes you had on earlier this morning. The only thing that’s changed is the absence of those awful disguise charms, of which I am ever thankful. It’s hard to admit there was something worse than your actual face, but here we are.”

Hermione took a seat in one of the armchairs, staring at Malfoy with wide, blazing eyes. Harry couldn’t gauge the emotion. Was it anger? It looked like something closer to expectancy. Hermione sat back and settled into the chair, “And yet, you allowed the pretense to continue. Why?”

Malfoy tensed.

“Hang on—” Harry stepped forward. “You didn’t think it was odd that I was in disguise working as a hotel porter?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, Potter, there isn’t a single thing about this case that isn’t an odd but coordinated obfuscation.”

Harry took that as a deflection. Malfoy’s stare lingered on him, and Harry narrowed his eyes. It was true, the events of the last day had been truly bizarre. Even though behind him stood a detailed case board, and Malfoy himself had admitted that Zivantus had hired him, Harry held on to the belief that Malfoy was still hiding something.

“Our first priority should be finding Bertrice,” Parkinson interrupted Harry’s thoughts. She was looking at Hermione but pointed to Malfoy and Harry. “These two idiots found her this morning and left her behind with some hoarder with a newspaper fetish.”

Just as Harry was about to correct her that Malfoy was the one who left Bertrice behind, the red kneazle revealed its presence and jumped into Parkinson’s lap. Startled, she turned to Malfoy, mouth agape as the kneazle nuzzled against Pansy’s neck.

Malfoy wore a triumphant smile that floored Harry. He took a step back at the sight of it, unsure if he’d ever seen the Slytherin flash a genuine one in his presence. Malfoy reached across the couch and gently pet the animal. “I wouldn’t be so sure we left her behind, Pans.”

“What?” Parkinson squawked. She froze.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious?” Malfoy shot him an unconcerned look. Harry added, “I saw Bertrice and the kneazle in the same room, this thing—Guinevere—is not her.” He waved his arms emphatically.

“You’re assuming I meant she was an Animagus or a shifter of some sort,” Malfoy said. “I, too, saw Bertrice’s person in that house, and she exhibited some strange behavior.”

“Well,” Harry started, but then he realized Malfoy was right. “It was only strange in that she didn’t seem in immediate danger, and she didn’t have any intention of leaving with us.”

Malfoy smirked then. “You didn’t find it odd that she slinked across the ground on all fours or that the woman of the house referred to Bertrice as ‘Guinevere’?”

Harry wanted to have a comeback but before he could think of anything, Parkinson had leaned down and grabbed the kneazle’s face and whispered, “Are you Bertie?”

The kneazle licked her nose and then nodded its head up and down.

“This is insane,” Harry turned to a stunned Ron. “That thing attacked me!” They ended up standing by each other as Parkinson, Malfoy, and Hermione started running all sorts of spells and charms on the kneaz—Bertrice, apparently. Both Hermione and Malfoy tried their hand at Legilimens but with little avail. While the three of them began brainstorming ideas, Harry and Ron turned back to the case board and tuned the others out.