It wasn't until Hermione spoke that Harry put the clues together: the smell, and the plants. Ah, so, not magical plants then. Not in the same way as a Devil's Snare, at any rate.
That thought probably would have amused him if not for the fact that his friends were shouting. Oi. He'd expected some tension, expected a few more choice words directed at him, but instead their anger was being directed at each other. He really wished he could say that it was the first time that had happened.
It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that it wasn't the Muggle cops they were worried about - a rather reasonable point, he thought, but he doubted it would be taken that way. He mostly agreed with Ron; an illegal drug business was hardly the worst of their worries at the moment. As was the slight resentment at being called a criminal, but in his opinion, it was better than being a complacent member of this new society. Not that he'd had a choice.
"It'll do for the night, yeah?" he said, feeling exhausted from all the fighting: though he'd been bored and restless not long before. "There's no one here, and you've already warded the place."