"Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it's a bit cold, isn't it?" – Hermione Granger
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"Mozzarella! I heard some rumours about someone breaking into your room–"
"Why the hell did you take the key?"
"What key?"
"The master key!"
"You mean the one that can unlock–"
"Of course, you idiot! Give it back before my boss notices it's gone!"
"I don't– I don't have it!"
"If only you were as good at lying as you are at being a thief."
"How many times do I have to say–? I don't have the key! I don't know where it is!"
"You expect me to believe you?"
"Why shouldn't you?"
"Because you and my boss were the only ones who knew about the key in the first place. I trusted you with a huge secret! You blew it!"
"Oh, I'm the one to blame? I trusted you to have my back in a crisis, and now you're turning on me? Believe me. I had no motive to take the key."
"You're– ugh, fine. If you help me look, and you can prove that you weren't the one who took it, I'll drop this."
"I'll start searching right now."
"Oh, and one more thing – make sure my boss doesn't find out about this."
"Mozzarella–"
"Promise me. Please. I'm ruined if he finds out."
"Fine. I cross my heart and hope to die."
YOU ARE READING
Snow Boots (#3)
Short Story"You've reached Westerden Ski Lodge, how may I be of assistance?" "Hey, can I rent some snow boots and skis? Maybe even a girlfriend, if you've got any in stock." "Awesome, do you want to order a life along with that? The gift wrapping's free of...
