For her part, Hermione had already rolled up her sleeves and began warding the small flat, each spell second nature to her now. Once that task was finished, she surveyed the general state of the flat and considered her options. It wasn’t a particularly clean sort of place, but not to the point where a few heavy duty charms couldn’t take care of most of the damage. "You don’t need to take the couch, Ron," she replied, distracted with dusting off the cobwebs with a flick of her wand, moving from corner to corner and so on. "We can easily take turns. It wouldn’t be fair to force you to sleep like that when we have beds." The longer she kept at it, the better the flat began to look — well, it was certainly livable compared to before.
She was halfway up the stairs, clearing off the spiders and level of grime that had caked over the wood, when Harry posed the question. Hermione stopped dead, jaw tight with impending suspicion. Why would Ron bring them to a place that could potentially put them all in jeopardy? Especially after their friend had pulled that first stunt with the journal. No, he knew better than to put them in danger or unsavory environments of any kind.
"Lumos." Lifting her wand and performing the spell with a sharp voice, her suspicions were confirmed. At the very least, the spell wasn’t enough to flood the entire apartment with light as the plants were clearly of the sensitive type, but she had her answer, and diffused the small light immediately after.
There was a silence as Hermione considered the implications of the very obvious vegetation and set-up, feeling her blood boil with a mixture of emotions. Betrayal, concern, fear, and what seemed to be rearing its head beyond the rest, anger. "You brought us to an apartment where illegal plants are being housed, grown, and likely distributed. Now we’re not only on the run, but we’re criminals. What on Earth was going through your head when you brought us here, Ron? More importantly — you shouldn’t talk to the sort of people that do this! What if you were attacked and we didn’t know to come help you?"
Her voice raised with every sentence, and for the billionth time in their travels, her silencing charms were being put to good use. "Tell me, Ron! Tell me how this is in any way a good idea."