Tumbledore the Gymnast.
Dumbledore sat in his grand chair behind his large oak desk finishing his letter to the Ministry about something he couldn't care less about. His quill scribbled away furiously as he raced to finish his correspondence; he had more important matters to attend to, like running a school or practicing his routine.
He dropped his worn out quill with a sigh of relief and slumped back into his seat. He had been waiting all day for this break, this moment of peace. Times like these weren't a common thing, what with those four mischief seekers- marauders they called themselves- running riot through the hallways like hooligans. Of course Professor McGonagall was perfectly capable of dealing with them herself but Albus couldn't let her have all the fun; he had to hear some of these tales first hand from the men themselves, they truly were ingenious plans.
Dumbledore decided that it was time to crack on with one of his favourite hobbies- gymnastics. He stripped out of his robes to reveal a hot pink leotard and black tights all covered in plenty of diamantes and even more glitter. He checked himself in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place while he tied back his long, luscious hair back. He looked fabulous if he did say so himself. With a flick of his wand music started to play through the room and he got into his starting position. It didn't take long for him to become engrossed in his routine.
He rolled across the floor elegantly and swooshed around his office gracefully. The music was coming to its height and he was twirling relentlessly, enough not to notice the door opening and two boys watching his performance- they were clearly impressed though. When the music ended Dumbledore lifted his head and froze; there stood James Potter and Sirius Black.
They all stared at each other in silence, neither willing to break the heavy gaze. After what seemed an eternity, but was only a matter of seconds, the two younger boys both turned their heads to look at one another. They stared into the others eyes, clearly trying to decide on something. One resolute nod indicated that they had made their decision, but still nothing was said. They instead turned back to face Dumbledore and ripped their clothes from their bodies comically. They now stood in matching leotards, both very sparkly and a deep shade of seductive purple. They simply grinned at their professor and went to stand on either side of him, making the hot pink clad teacher the centre piece. James tweaked his wand and another tune flooded the room. They all fell perfectly in sync and carried on with their flawless prancing for quite some time, the issue of whatever James, Sirius and any other helpless soul they had roped into their games, completely forgotten by the end of the evening.
The boys said their fair wells and made their way to the Gryffindor tower (using all known passage ways as it was hours after the time everyone had to be back in their respective common rooms.) There were a few agreements made that day although none of them had been verbalised. One, that they would all meet up in the Headmasters office at 10pm every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to practice their routines. Two, that seductive purple and hot pink were their team colours. And finally, that none of this was to be mentioned to anyone- especially Remus, he was a savage when it came to knocking the down a few pegs when it was needed and he would never let them hear the end of it.
The last agreement was shattered though when the trio smashed Beauxbatons in the wizarding world championship; James and Sirius couldn't restrain themselves from gloating about their victory and flashing the page of the Daily Prophet that had their photograph front and centre. Just like it was predicted they never heard the end of the small jokes Remus would make about it, although, it never seemed to bother them that much.
They were victorious. They were the Tumbledore Trio.