I don't own The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. They belong to John Tolkien and Joanne Rowling respectively...
~~Black and White
Saruman the White stood calmly before the palantir of Orthanc, contacting his Master. My Lord… I have summoned Gandalf the Grey to Orthanc. I will trap him in the tower until you are prepared to fetch him.Excellent, my servant. I shall dispatch a Nazgul immediately, to fetch him.
A knock sounded at the door. One moment please, my Master. I believe Gandalf the Grey has arrived.Excellent… Report to me after he has been imprisoned.As you wish.
“Come in Gandalf…”
A wizard came in. But he was not some grey-bearded dotard leaning upon a staff. This one was young, black-bearded, with a haughty grin upon his face. “You are not, Gandalf.”
The youthful wizard grinned in amusement. “Quite correct. I am Padfoot. Gandalf and I are old friends. He asked me to come in his place. He has much to do in the Shire, with Sauron on the move.”
Saruman glared. “I would speak with Gandalf and not some menial lackey. You are not Istari and cannot possibly understand what I have to say to you.”
The cold laugh of the man called Padfoot broke off Saruman’s tirade. “When you’ve kept your sanity for ten years in a prison filled with Dementors, then perhaps we can talk about understanding.”
Saruman glanced balefully at Padfoot’s tattered brown over-robe… and then his gaze caught Padfoot’s wand. “Is that your staff? Really, do you hope to prove yourself a great mage with such a pathetic instrument?”
Padfoot’s smile was like a chill wind. “And what about yours, Saruman? Do you really need such an over-exaggerated wand? Honestly, we’re not compensating for something are we? Besides, every wizard worth his salt knows that it’s not the size that counts. It’s how you use it…”
Saruman’s face became a mask of fury. “You fool, I am Saruman the White!!! White, which is the most powerful colour in magic, with the single exception of black. Begone, Padfoot the Brown!!!” He sent a powerful telekinetic burst out then, flinging Padfoot into a wall. Then he made his big mistake… He let Padfoot get up.
Padfoot grinned. “I think I should introduce myself properly, Saruman the White,” he said, flinging back his tattered over-robe to reveal robes the colour of obsidian, “Sirius Black… at your service.”
Before Saruman could bring his staff up, Sirius had leveled his wand at Saruman. “Avada Kedavra!!!” he cried.
The green bolt of light tore through the room, killing the foolish Saruman instantly.
Sirius shrugged to himself. “An unforgivable curse for an unforgivable incompetent. Honestly, who lets their opponent up when they are down?” Then he spied the palantir and decided to try.
Sauron noticed. Saruman.Sorry boss, ‘fraid not…Gandalf!!! You won’t get away with this…I’m not Gandalf either…Théoden…?Nope… Those were your three guesses. And you don’t get anymore…Tell me who you are!!!Ha… Umm… No… I don’t think so…What are you doing in Orthanc?
Sirius grinned… I solemnly swear I am up to no good…
As Sauron raged, Sirius broke off the contact and began to take a look around. “Hmmm… Maybe falling through that drapery wasn’t so bad after all… This Orthanc place would make me a nice bachelor pad, and there’s some really hot ladies out in Rohan… Perhaps I’ll stick around… Harry can get by just fine without me…”