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It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," hissed Hermione, and as she dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows, Harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead.
She turned to Harry. "You – you don't think you've still got your Trace on you, do you, Harry?" "He can't have," said Ron. "The Trace breaks at seventeen, that's Wizarding law, you can't put it on an adult."
Once the café was restored to its previous condition, they heaved the Death Eaters back into their booth and propped them up facing each other. "But how did they find us?" Hermione asked, looking from one inert man to the other. "How did they know where we were?"
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