Gandalf V Dumbledore

The scene: Dumbledore lures Gandalf into an abandoned discotheque, to take part in a cartilage crunching dance-off after Gandalf accidental insults Dumbledore by inviting Harry Potter to mini-golf with him and Frodo. The two men face each other, ready for war...

'Is there no other way Albus?'

Beseeched the old Grey Wizard, searching his opponent's face imploringly for a softening in the mask of cold, dark fury etched onto it's features.

'You should have thought of that first Gandalf.'

Replied his accuser coldly, twizzling his beard

'Before you tried too woo my protégée with mini-golf and an aero milkshake, you meddling show-off.'

His voice soft and menacing, like a threat made out of warm cheese.

'It was nothing! You stubborn old fool!'

Cried Gandalf, exasperated.

'Frodo and I merely...'

'Oh Frodo!'

Cried Dumbledore mockingly, cutting off Gandalf rudely in mid-sentence.

'Precious little Frodo had a thought did he? Don't make me laugh! That furry footed little homo never had a thought in his life that wasn't about sucking a fat cock! Don't try and deny what we all know, I've read Sam Gamgee's therapist's notes!'

Gandalf swallowed and for the first time looked ruffled by the exchange.

'Listen very carefully Albus'

He said in a measured but unmistakably threatening tone

'You may insult me to your heart's bliss, but never insult the Shire in my presence. Never!'

Dumbledore crossed his arms and leaned back looking satisfied. Now the old fool would bite. Now he would have his war.

Gandalf rubbed his left earlobe between thumb and forefinger and narrowed his eyes.

Dumbledore attempted to lick his own elbow, but gave up after catching himself in a nearby mirror ball and realising Snape had been right. It was not the menacing gesture he had believed it to be, but a guaranteed way to look like a spaz. He did a little Flamenco flourish, ending with a loud clap of his wizened hands which echoed around the discotheque.

'Mmm, much better'

He thought.

Gandalf took the manoeuvre like a slap to the head, and reeled backward. As he retreated he gracefully turned his momentum into a perfect pirouette, plieting into standstill once more. He looked at Dumbledore with satisfaction.

Dumbledore, seeing the beauty and grace of the movement, vomited violently on the multi-coloured squared floor, then tap-danced his way all up into Dumbledore's shit, smashing him with a dose of double-dream hands when they were finally crooked nose to crooked nose.

Gandalf staggered once more, as if a Balrog of Morgoth had just beaten him at Trivial Pursuit. He felt worse than the time he'd gone to that dinner party at Shelob's, where only he of all the guests had bothered to show up. And had been politely forced to nibble raw Ork unenthusiastically for three miserable hours as Shelob sang Phil Collins ballads and tried it on with him. Dumbledore looked triumphant, he had not expected the dance-off to be this easy. The old grey dunce was no match for his legendary shit.

'I've got you now old man'

He sneered, snapping the fingers of his extended right hand and sidestepping, never breaking eye contact. He began to wiggle his hips, shoulders rocking.

'YOU SHALL NOT SHIMMY!'

Cried Gandalf, mustering his strength and dropping to one knee, clenched fist in the air like a strongly held belief. Slowly, deliberately, he gripped his raised arm just above the elbow, pulling his body upwards to meet his accuser like a resurrection.

Dumbledore's smile faltered on his lips. Before he could react, Gandalf performed a perfect fan kick, throwing both arms behind him at the height of the arc, lolling his head back and to the left then sailor-stepping quickly so that his legs seemed to jerk his body into forward motion, flapping his arms like a goose as he moved. Dumbledore watched stunned. He had not thought Gandalf capable of such elegant and fierce freestyle. He casually boogie-rolled to buy some time, as Gandalf continued to flap his way around the dancefloor, now in full swing. Knowing it was a hollow gesture, but panicked, Dumbledore did a little Charleston but it went unnoticed by Gandalf, who was now so in the zone he was making Flashdance seem like Hoedown Showdown, knee-popping with syncopated splits and some crazy shit Dumbledore was sure he must have picked up at Dirty Dancing style parties, cause he certainly hadn't seen it on any Louis Spence DVD he'd ever watched. Desperate, Dumbledore snuck his wand from the sleeve's of his robes and muttered 'petrificus totalus'.

The effect was instant. Gandalf froze in motion, mid-way through the most sexually charged, fluid moonwalk Dumbledore had ever seen.

'Damn that beautiful old fruit.'

He muttered grudgingly as he looked at his opponent with new admiration. Without knowing why, he goose-stepped in circles around the frozen Gandalf solemnly cogitating his situation. Not only had he lost the dance-off, he had also lost the moral argument. Hating himself, with tears rolling down his distraught face, he performed Gangam Style then muttered the counter curse to release Gandalf, who continued his moonwalk as if nothing had happened.

Dumbledore realised Gandalf had appraised the situation and decided not to acknowledge his treachery. An act of great kindness and damning verdict, so confident must he be that the battle had been won. Dumbledore slumped into his own reverie. Now he thought about it, was it really so wrong of Gandalf to offer to take Harry out once in a while? After all, when had he, Dumbledore ever used Harry for anything other than his own ends? Important as those ends undoubtedly were, would it have killed him to take him out to Lazerquest once in a while? Could it be he was jealous of Gandalf's relationship with Frodo, and that the real anger he felt was towards himself?

'I've been an old fool Gandalf.'

Said Dumbledore solemnly.

Gandalf looked at him kindly

'What a pair of fools we make together then!'

He laughed and placed an arm around his shoulder.

Dumbledore smiled for what felt like the first time, warmed by this friendly gesture.

'Can you ever forgive me?'

'Yes'

Said Gandalf simply. And they left the discotheque arm in arm laughing.

Prologue

Gandalf and Dumbledore buy a racing horse together and it wins the Epson Derby, making them lots of money from studding rights (which Frodo enjoys watching more than he should.) Frodo and Harry never really hit it off, but they stay in touch via facebook and sometimes go out for a burrito to keep the old men happy. Once, after quite a bit of pipe-weed, Gandalf admits to Dumbledore that he used to frequent the only gay-bar in Gondor, where he picked up quite a lot of his moves. Dumbledore in turn, admits to using his pensive to relive the stolen memories of Louis Spence, obtained for him by Harry unquestioningly, utilising a bottle of felix and a come-hither look. The old men swear never to tell any one else of their secrets, and wake the next morning feeling at once lightened and burdened. Rita Skeeter teams up with Merlin to write an expose on the two, but it's poorly received as everyone thinks Merlin's shit compared to Gandalf and Dubledore. It sells a few copies but fails to make much of an impact. Merlin ends up on I'm a Celebrity, where he win's over the hearts of the nation and get's his own daytime alchemy show on which he singularily fails over the course of 6 series, to create a single precious metal. The Most Haunted special in which he wanders around Boreham Wood in the dark musing on funghi, goes on to become the biggest selling DVD in history. He uses some of the money to buy the world's longest sausage dog.