Once they were inside the tent, Ron started pacing as he tried to think of how best to explain both the nature of his lead and how he'd stumbled on this particular revelation, particularly since he'd never actually told them about how he'd deliberately used his old journal as bait after writing his drunkenly writing that un-warded entry awhile back . . .
"Right. So, a while back I got in touch with this contact on the black market who sold magical contraband: regulated potions ingredients, that sort of thing. I just figured he was like old 'Dung Fletcher used to be, basic con artist like I usually deal with 'cept he happened to be a wizard too. I mean, we both used false name and I always used some charms on my hair and such, I wasn't an idiot about it, but . . . well, I was more of an idiot than I should've been, 'cept it also turns out that may have worked in our favor."
He paused, giving Harry and Hermione a change to press for details . . . or encourage him to get on with it.