分卷阅读29（2 / 2）

“I hate to say it, “Mione, but I owe most of it to Malfoy.” Ron opened the door to his office and led her inside. Taking off his crimson auror robes, he pointed to his chest and the Chudley Cannons 1892 Champions T-shirt. “And this lucky thing,” he smiled.

Hermione bit her tongue. She was too tired to deal with his lack of self-awareness. Ron was convinced his favorite shirt was the reason he’d finished so many cases successfully. He’d smile, “Where would I be without it?” And Hermione would shove something in her mouth or change the subject. In the past, when she’d point out that the shirt was worthless, that it was Ron’s brilliant mind and his own abilities that were the reason for his success, Ron would get mad. He’d blush, stammer, and end up belittling the achievements he’d just been so thrilled about seconds before. Hermione liked to think of it as Golden Trio Syndrome. Ron seemed to compare every one of his various accomplishments to Harry or Hermione’s greatest accomplishments.

As painful as it was for her to let Ron’s callous disregard for himself go unanswered, she had the vague suspicion that soon he wouldn’t be able to ignore his own brilliance. Soon he’d be rewarded and the whole Ministry, the whole of the Wizarding World, would know what she’d always known to be true. And she hoped maybe then this amazing man would finally believe it.

“At first, I tried to run down some of the blokes on the board,” Ron explained. “But nothing really came of it. So I thought about the picture of Gertrude Lockhart, and what Malfoy had said about the connection to Zivantus.”

Hermione thought back to what she’d heard them say about it, but she’d missed most of it talking to Harry in the hallway. “I didn’t think there was much there.”

Ron nodded. “There wasn’t, but something about the name of the bloke who claimed to be Lockhart kept nagging me.” He raised his wand and cast a spell on the wireless player in the corner. A few seconds later, a song played that Hermione vaguely recognised. As soon as the chorus of the song rang through the speaker, she gasped.

“That’s Jinxes & Joes!”

“They were Ginny’s favorite band for ages,” Ron nodded. He went on to explain that the man who’d claimed to be Gertrude Lockhart was Edgar Lerille, the bassist of the boy band. Ron described that after he’d apparated to Lerille’s residence, he almost hadn’t had the stomach to interview him. “It was horrible,” he recounted. “The poor man—er— whoever he really is—he’s living in quite a depressive state. The home was a mess, smelled worse than the communal sock drawer at the Burrow.”

“But you did talk to him?”

Ron raised his brow, “Yeah well, I was about to leave and then I saw the band’s awards on the wall. Their first song, ‘The Smell of Sweet Amortentia’ had won Witch Weekly’s Afternoon Snog Award Winner.”

“While that should be criminal, that hardly warrants suspicion, Ron.”

“No, “Mione! It was the symbol!” He pulled out a quill and parchment and drew an infinity sign with eyes in the loops. “The men on the case board had this pendant. So I asked myself, how could some washed up bassist in Cardiff be connected to some bad blokes in Edinburgh?”

“And?”

“So I asked him—uh—her…” It turned out that the last thing Edgar Lerille, or if they were to believe the story, Gertrude Lockhart could remember was accepting a complimentary room at the Ashtyl Hotel from their manager, Valentine de Russo. “He— sorry, she said she had went about her day, went to bed in her room, and woke up as Edgar in his hovel of a house.” Ron’s smile widened. “And the hotel manager? De Russo? He was the lead singer of Jinxes & Joes. So I apparated to his flat and waited for him to show up.”

“Let me get this straight,” Hermione stated. “The hotel manager of one of Britain’s most prestigious hotels, a fallen boy band singer, was the mastermind behind a soul- swapping cult and the kidnapping of Bertrice Zivantus?”

Ron shrugged, “Yeah, that’s about it, isn’t it?” Hermione had so many questions but she was so exhausted. Ron went into a few of his theories about why they’d targeted Gertrude Lockhart, and if the cult had gained access to more of the soul-catcher ingredients, they could’ve switched bodies with just about anyone in the world. “So, are we going to talk about what’s going on with this?” Ron pointed to the flashing jumper.

“I’d rather not,” Hermione sighed. “Now that I’ve found you,” she gathered the will to stand and headed to the door, “we have to track down Harry and Malfoy.”

“I just saw them down in the Atrium.”

Hermione burst, “What?”