*SCENE FOUR*
Narrator: A fine, cold drizzle begins to fall. Goyle waits, smoking his cigar. After twenty minutes, a tall male wizard in dark robes, with a black cloak, crosses the street.
Wizard: Is that you, Goyle?
Goyle: Is it really you, Crabbe?
Wizard: Bless my heart! It's Goyle, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still alive! Well, well, well....The Lucky Cauldron is gone, Goyle. I wish it had lasted so we could have had a drink together there. How's Europe treated you, old man?
Goyle: Bully! It's given me everything I've wanted! You've changed lots, Crabbe..I never though you were so tall...or that skinny!
Wizard: Oh, I lost some weight after I got this job in the city...and you know when you loose weight, you gain some inches.
Goyle: Are you doing well here in London, Crabbe?
Wizard: *shrugs* Okay...I guess. Come ON, Goyle. Let's go to this new place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times.
Narrator: The two wizards walk up the street, arm in arm. Goyle, his ego enlarged by success, tells his companion all about his newfound careers. The other wizard listens with interest. Soon they pass the brightly lit Gringotts bank. In the glare of the light, the two take a good look at each other.
Goyle: HOLD ON! You're not CRABBE! Twenty years is a LONG time, but it's not long enough time to change someone's eyes from brown to blue!
Wizard: It can be a long enough time to turn a good wizard into a bad one. You've been under arrest by the United Kingdom Ministry of Magic for the past ten minutes, "Smooth Goyle". The Germany Ministry of Magic thought you might be heading our way. They sent us an owl saying they wanted a little chat with you.
Goyle: *sighs* I'll come quietly. But how did you know where to find me?
Wizard: Here's a note I was asked to hand to you. You can read it before I take you to the UK MoM office. It's from the Minister of Magic.
*Bob takes note and reads it*
Voice in Goyle's Head (A/N: Who knows who that could be?, lol):
Dear Goyle,
I was at the given place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar, I recognized your face from a "WANTED" poster sent from Germany and Austria. Somehow, I couldn't arrest you myself, so I went around and got one of the new school governers, Blaise Zabini, who was in plain clothes, to do the job.
Signed, the Ministry of Magic - United Kingdom
-Crabbe
Narrator: A fine, cold drizzle begins to fall. Goyle waits, smoking his cigar. After twenty minutes, a tall male wizard in dark robes, with a black cloak, crosses the street.
Wizard: Is that you, Goyle?
Goyle: Is it really you, Crabbe?
Wizard: Bless my heart! It's Goyle, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still alive! Well, well, well....The Lucky Cauldron is gone, Goyle. I wish it had lasted so we could have had a drink together there. How's Europe treated you, old man?
Goyle: Bully! It's given me everything I've wanted! You've changed lots, Crabbe..I never though you were so tall...or that skinny!
Wizard: Oh, I lost some weight after I got this job in the city...and you know when you loose weight, you gain some inches.
Goyle: Are you doing well here in London, Crabbe?
Wizard: *shrugs* Okay...I guess. Come ON, Goyle. Let's go to this new place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times.
Narrator: The two wizards walk up the street, arm in arm. Goyle, his ego enlarged by success, tells his companion all about his newfound careers. The other wizard listens with interest. Soon they pass the brightly lit Gringotts bank. In the glare of the light, the two take a good look at each other.
Goyle: HOLD ON! You're not CRABBE! Twenty years is a LONG time, but it's not long enough time to change someone's eyes from brown to blue!
Wizard: It can be a long enough time to turn a good wizard into a bad one. You've been under arrest by the United Kingdom Ministry of Magic for the past ten minutes, "Smooth Goyle". The Germany Ministry of Magic thought you might be heading our way. They sent us an owl saying they wanted a little chat with you.
Goyle: *sighs* I'll come quietly. But how did you know where to find me?
Wizard: Here's a note I was asked to hand to you. You can read it before I take you to the UK MoM office. It's from the Minister of Magic.
*Bob takes note and reads it*
Voice in Goyle's Head (A/N: Who knows who that could be?, lol):
Dear Goyle,
I was at the given place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar, I recognized your face from a "WANTED" poster sent from Germany and Austria. Somehow, I couldn't arrest you myself, so I went around and got one of the new school governers, Blaise Zabini, who was in plain clothes, to do the job.
Signed, the Ministry of Magic - United Kingdom
-Crabbe
