The shouting could be heard down the hall.

“…at least I told him exactly what he was getting into and didn’t play silly buggers with destiny just to suit my own sense of epic drama!” Gandalf was winding down a rant of some duration.

“Oh, yes,” Dumbledore retorted, beginning a rant of his own, “and you were so useful to him, dying in the first bloody cavern, then trapising back in halfway through the adventure all smug and bleached!”

“Bleached!” Gandalf’s mouth worked helplessly for a moment, then he seized Dumbledore’s beard and pulled.

Merlin sighed, folded up his paper, and left as quickly as he could. Some days he didn’t know why he came to the club.