She can't believe it.
Those bloody marauders stole her shoes.
One moment they were on her feet, the next, gone.
She wants them back. They're her favorite pair.
So she walks straight up to him, because who else would pull a stunt like that, and says, "Give them to me."
He doesn't look up. "What are you willing to offer in return?"
"What could I possibly have that you want?"
Now he looks up, his hazel eyes devious. "A kiss," he says simply.
"No way. No bloody way."
"Then it looks like you're not getting your shoes back anytime soon."