Disclaimer: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…

Placing:Afterthesecond war.

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sSsSsSsSs

BOYFRIEND TIME

THE FIRST TRY

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"Geoffrey Goyle," the man said, leaning forward to look at him with piercing blue eyes. He was wearing glasses, was quite lanky and had dark brown, wild curls.

The young man in front of him frowned.

"I'm Gregory Goyle," he said slowly. "I don't know a Geoffrey Goyle."

The lanky man blinked, shrugged and then crossed out something on the paper in front of him.

"Gregory, then," he said a bit disinterestedly.

He looked at the paper in front of him again.

"You're a Slytherin and in the year of Hermione Granger, aren't you?" The lanky man asked.

Goyle frowned.

"Hermione," he repeated the name a bit confused and frowned.

"Yes," the lanky man said. "Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and… Harry… Potter."

"Ah," Goyle said. "Potter."

"They're in your year?" the lanky man repeated.

Goyle nodded slowly.

"Potter's in my year," he agreed.

For a moment, the lanky man hesitated, then he shrugged.

"Right, good enough I guess," he said.

"Potter's not in Slytherin though," Goyle said slowly. "He's a Gryffindor. I don't know anything 'bout him."

The lanky man frowned at Goyle.

"I actually don't want to know anything about him," he told Goyle. "I want to know about you. How did you manage to get into Slytherin if you're not cunning at all."

Goyle's eyes flashed for a second at that, then he shrugged slowly.

"My family has always been in Slytherin," he said slowly. "I couldn't have gone somewhere else."

The lanky man nodded slowly.

"Like you could have done nothing else but to follow that Voldyswasy-fellow?" He asked interestedly and Goyle frowned at him.

"Are you related to Potter?" He asked the lanky man instead of answering.

Said man blinked and stared at Goyle.

"How the hell did you come to that conclusion?" He asked the younger man half-interested and half-horrified.

"You've glasses, the same hair-colour, a similar physique and you're not afraid to say the Dark Lord's name," Goyle told him quite reasonable.

The answer was an even more horrified look.

"Note to myself," the lanky man murmured. "Ensure that Sherlock insists on an all-round change for the Potter boy before we even think about accepting him!"

"So… you're not related to Potter?" Goyle assured himself.

The answer was a disgusted look from the other man.

"Definitely not," he said and shuddered. "I've enough brothers to lose a few when not watching them – but I'd known if I had lost another one within the last seventeen years… so no, we're definitely not related in any way or form!"

Goyle blinked a bit at that.

"Oh," he said. "You sure look quite similar for not being related."

The lanky man shuddered again.

"Thank you for that image, Mr. Goyle," he said, definitely not amused.

"You're welcome," the Slytherin said and the lanky man sighed.

"Anyway, Mr. Goyle," he said. "Do you know why you're here?"

Goyle frowned.

"Because you and your comrade stuffed me into your vehicle's boot and brought me here together with my two friends," he replied slowly.

The lanky man looked at him with interest at that.

"You know muggle vehicles?" He asked interestedly.

Gregory Goyle shrugged.

"I sometimes went to muggle studies," he said as if it was nothing special.

The lanky man raised an eyebrow at that.

"Is that so," he said slowly.

"Muggle have some interesting inventions, you know?" Goyle replied and again his eyes flashed.

"Oh… yes," the lanky man agreed. "Especially computers and digital cameras."

Goyle blinked at that.

"Digital cameras?" He repeated confused. "Computers?"

Those questions ended in an elongated explanation and a question and answer session about muggle things.

In the end, it was the lanky man who returned to the reason why they were in that bleak room together.

"Tell me, Mr. Goyle," he said slowly. "With your interest in all things muggle – how come that your OWLs and NEWTs are less then mediocre?"

Goyle frowned at him.

"How did you get the grades of my OWLs and NEWTs?" He asked confused.

The lanky man waved it off.

"Nothing easier than that," he answered amused. "So, now, Mr. Goyle. Answer my question, please."

Goyle's frown deepened.

"And if I don't?" He asked.

The answer was a feral smile.

"Then I'll ensure that you'll tell me," was the amused answer. "I'm quite sure that you'll talk at least after my brother has broken your legs, your fingers and –"

"Isn't that a bit extreme, Mister?" Goyle asked, interrupting the man, looking a bit green.

The lanky man looked thoughtful at the ceiling at that.

"Hmm…" He said slowly. "Considering that I'm working as the Quatermaster… and considering the things my brothers did for even less…"

His eyes found Goyles.

"No," he declared finally. "I don't think it's a bit extreme – but I might be persuaded to add a thing or two if my brothers suggest it…"

Goyle paled even further.

"I'll talk," he declared, suddenly quite a bit paler in the face than even a ghost.

The answer was a slow nod, accompanied with a smile.

"I thought as much," he assured Goyle. "Now, how did you get such OWLs and NEWTs?"

Goyle nervously looked at those piercing blue eyes.

"I simply didn't learn," he said. "It wouldn't do to have good grades – especially if I don't want my parents forcing me to do more than I'm currently doing."

The answer was a frown from the lanky man.

"As far as I know, you're currently not doing anything," he said slowly.

"Exactly," Goyle replied. "And I have no wish to do anything in the future."

The answer was a frown from the lanky man.

"You have no ambition to do anything in life?" he asked Goyle.

The younger man shrugged.

"I plan to marry a nice girl, have a child and then live my life," he replied.

"And your wife?" The lanky man asked slowly.

"She will look after my home and my child," Goyle replied.

For a second, there was silence from the other man. Then he frowned.

"So…" the lanky man said. "If she wants to work or do something else with her life -?"

Goyle frowned.

"I wouldn't marry someone who'd wanted to do anything like that…" he said slowly.

The lanky man stared at him for a second or two, then he sighed.

"Alright," he said slowly. "I… guess you're out."

Goyle frowned.

"Out?" He asked.

"Yes," the lanky man asked slowly. "out."

"Out of what?" Goyle asked confused.

The lanky man waved it off.

"Forget it," he said. "It doesn't matter. You don't need to know."

With that, he left the room, gesturing for the two men outside – twins – to go in and take Goyle away.

The twins just raised an eyebrow at him, but Q just shook his head.

"He's definitely not the right one," he said before looking at the rest of the few victims they had already gathered in the hallway. "Someone else can go ahead and start their interview!"

Like that, Gregory Goyle was removed from the list of possible boyfriends for they little sister…

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That was Goyle. Yep, still not the brightest match in the matchbox… xDDD

Hope you liked it.

'Till next time.

Ebenbild