Hey guys, I know I haven't been around much lately. Life is really taking it out of me, and I have so many other stories that require my attention. Still, given the Christmas/Holiday season, I wanted to give you guys something. It's not the Naruto/Aang battle, though that is coming, but I hope you guys like it all the same...

Gandalf the White vs. Lord Voldemort:

This battle takes place in near the ruins of a village. It's buildings are in flames, and the people are dead. They were cut down without mercy and without warning. Their lives had been proceeding as normal, when out of the blue a band of men, each cloaked in black and hiding their faces with white masks, began to lay waste to them, using darkest magic to cut their lives short.

Overseeing all of this, was the Dark Lord Voldemort. He had lead his raiding party here in order to spread fear and to rid the world of a few more muggles. After all, the only good muggle was a dead muggle. Still, the Dark Lord had done no fighting himself, not seeing much of a point. There was no challenge to be found here…

As the last of his followers apparated away from the ruins of the village, Voldemort heard the sound of a horse and turned. There, riding towards him was a old man dressed all in white. The man looked at the ruins of the village, then locked eyes with Voldemort. The look in his eyes… it gave him a feeling he hadn't felt since he last saw Dumbledore. This… this man would be a worthy foe.

As Gandalf got off his horse, he made sure to keep his eyes on the dark figure before him. Evil seemed to roll off him in waves, and his strange disfigured face was likely a reflection of that evil. The White Wizard did not know who this creature was, nor why he had perpetrated this heinous act. But he knew for sure that he would never do so again.

The two wizards stared each other down. Voldemort, his wand drawn, Gandalf, his staff clenched in his fists. The battle was set, all that was left was to see who would make the first move…

FIGHT!

Voldemort struck first, launching a dark purple ball of energy as he wordlessly cast his spell. Gandalf easily dodged and returned in kind with a fireball while charging at the Dark Lord. Voldemort leaned to the side and watched the flickering ball sail past, before sending a flurry of attacks as the White Wizard tried to close the distance between them. But despite looking as old as Dumbledore, Gandalf exhibited speed and agility of a man a fraction of his age. He ducked, dodged, weaved around the glowing balls of death. Those he could not dodge he deflected with his staff, the dark magic leaving burn marks on its pristine white surface, but otherwise leaving it unharmed.

Just as he closed the distance and swung his mighty staff, man once known as Tom Riddle disappeared with a crack, leaving the staff to pass through empty air.

Gandalf looked around for his foe, alerted by another crack behind him. He spun on his heel to-

"Crucio!"

Suddenly, a pain unlike any he had known wracked his body, and Gandalf nearly collapsed, using his staff as a crutch.

Voldemort laughed as he watched the feeble wizard try to remain standing. He had expected a challenge, but all he'd gotten was a fireball before the man tried to fight him like a muggle! Clearly he would need to punish this fool for his impudence.

While the pain attacking his nerves was intense, Gandalf has lived a long life, and pain was not unfamiliar to him. While this was more intense then he was used to, he could not allow it to stop him. Perhaps, though, he would need to show his opponent why his name was so well respected in these lands…

Voldemort's nonexistent eyebrows rose as Gandalf managed to straighten up, seeming to shrug off the curse, the tip of his staff glowing as he thrust it. An unseen force struck the man once called Tom Riddle in the chest, and sent him flying with such force that he rocketed back into the ruins of the town.

Gandalf took a bit of satisfaction as the watched the dark wizard crash into a wall. He was surprised when he saw the man shakily stand, but not much. Wizards like them tended to be slightly hardier then normal men. Raising his staff, he faintly heard the crackle of static before a bolt of lighting shot towards his foe. The pale man barely managed to form a shield of dark energy in time. The barrier cracked and shattered when struck, the dark arts never being particularly adept at defense, but it was enough to save his life.

Gandalf watched the wizard point his wand at the ground, a bolt of red striking it, quickly growing and expanding outward. Before his very eyes, a snake made of pure fire as large as three war horses stood between him and his foe. As it made its way towards him, it's body burning up the grass, Gandalf readied his sword and staff. He had faced down the Balrog and won, a cheap imitation would not be the end of him.

Meanwhile, Voldemort quietly fumed. He'd been struck by a surprise blow, and the old fool had nearly destroyed him with that lightning blast. Clearly this would be more of a challenge then he first thought. Creating that Fire Snake had taken a bit out of him, but it was worth it to buy some time. He could regain his energy while hopefully tiring his foe. He hoped the snake would kill the old man, but he wouldn't be entirely surprised if he lived. If that was the case, he would need another plan.

And as Voldemort spied the dead bodies that had once been the peaceful townsfolk, he got a wonderfully awful idea…

Gandalf rolled to the side, the Fire Snake's head striking the ground he had just been standing on. He could feel the heat of its body pressing against him, chapping his skin and causing his cloak to smolder. The snake raised its head and hissed, sparks shooting from its mouth.

It raised itself up, rearing back to strike again, while at the same time Gandalf settled himself into a fighting stance, his sword glowing with mystical power. The snake snapped forward, far faster then any animal that size had a right to be, but the White Wizard was faster. His staff struck out, and a wave of energy smash into the snake's face causing it to flip off course and slam on its side into the ground, its body setting the grass alight. As the snake shook its head and tried to regain it's senses, Gandalf struck, his sword sliced through the beasts face, then again through it's upper body. The blade passed through the flames and came out the out without so much as a singe mark. The magic in the blade cut through the magic holding the burning construct together, and with a final hiss of anger, the monster was gone.

With the servant vanquished, it was time to search for its master. Gandalf made his way into the town, quietly mourning the needless destruction of so many lives. However, as he reached the center of the town it occurred to him he had not passed a single body.

And that was when the moaning began.

The air rippled as the elaborate disillusionment charm Voldemort had set up faded, revealing a terrifying surprise. The entire population of town had been converted into Inferi, the walking dead, while Gandalf had dealt with his snake. While the wizard wasn't as burnt or dead as Voldemort had hoped, he still wasn't worried.

The magical zombies charged, seeking to tear Gandalf limb from limb. His warrior training kicking in, Gandalf quickly went to work on the townsfolk. His blade severed limbs and his staff bashed heads. Magic wasn't really needed, only occasionally being used to force a crowd back. Occasionally he would lob a fireball or lighting bolt at Voldemort, but the Dark Lord seemed content to stay in the back, watching with insane glee as Gandalf was forced to basically butcher the townsfolk, wasting his strength while the real threat remained out of reach.

Voldemort, standing atop the roof of one of the houses, silently cast a spell that caused all the nearby windows to shatter. Then, with a flick of his wand, he sent the shards speeding towards Gandalf. Their glinting in the light gave him little warning, as he attempted to duck and weave around them while still fighting the undead horde. The Inferi that were struck took no notice, but Gandalf could not, especially when one struck him in the shoulder, and another nearly took his ear off. The distraction was used as an opening for an Inferi to lunge at him, but Gandalf took his head off with one quick swing.

That sword was quickly becoming a problem for Voldemort. What if… ah, that would do. A golden blast from his wand struck the blade, which glowed and vibrated violently in response, nearly causing Gandalf to drop it. Then, the blade darkened and shifted, transforming into a vicious black serpent. The snake hissed a challenge at Gandalf, who was currently holding it's tail. It moved to bite him but he lashed out with it instead. An unfortunate Inferi got a face full of snake venom, but didn't seem overly concerned.

Gandalf dropped the snake, and after forcing the nearest group of dead away with a pulse of energy, he slammed the tip of his staff down on the snake, killing it before it could become a nuisance. It died, it's skull crushed, but Gandalf kept his staff near it. With whispered words, he twisted the staff, willing the darkness from the enchantment away. The snake shuddered, but then the spell was broken, and Glamdring was his once more.

The Dark Lord snarled at his foe's cleverness and power. He had had enough, it was time to end this! Standing tall, he gazed imperiously down upon his quarry. Gathering power to his wand, his eyes took on a mad glint as he prepared to end his foes life with two simple words.

Gandalf must have felt the shift in his opponent's thoughts, watching as the Dark Wizard drew dark power to himself. Whatever was going to happen next, he could not let himself fall victim to it. So, calling upon ancient power older then most in the village he was fighting in, his body began to glow a holy white.

Voldemort smirked. His opponent must have sensed his end, and thought he could defend himself from the oncoming death. A bubble of semi-transparent light surrounded him, flickering with magical power. Inferi that got to close were shocked and thrown away, but that was no proof of its power. Voldemort knew that no shield could withstand the might of…

"Avada Kedarva!"

The sickly green magic flew like a bat out of hell towards Gandalf, chilling the air and giving off a feeling of dread. It slammed into the Shield of Istari like a Troll's club.

It was said that no defense could block the Killing Curse. But by the same token, no force had ever managed to penetrate the blessed shield. And when the unstoppable force collides with the immovable object, the reaction tended to be… violent.

The explosion rocked the countryside, and caused Voldemort to fall from the roof, a position that would have had him more indignant had any of his followers been around to see it. The force of the blast threw Gandalf down the road as his Shield shattered. The Killing Curse, it's energy spent, faded before it could claim the wisest of the Fellowship.

Gandalf gave a heave and managed to make his way back to a standing position. That had not been what he was expecting, but at least-

That line of thought was cut off as something that felt like a blade sliced his back, causing him to stumble and yell in pain. He whirled about, but saw no attacker. Instead, he was struck by a bolt of purple energy that sent him to his knees as he suddenly found it very very hard to breath. And though the space was empty, he heard the foul laughter of his foe, disillusioned once more.

As the magic constricted his lungs, Gandalf gave a mighty heave, willing a bubble of pure magic to spread from his past his opponent. The enchantments broke, and Gandlaf could both breath easier, and see his opponent.

Still, just because the old man could see him again, Voldemort knew it wouldn't be enough. A bone breaking curse shattered his right kneecap, and a banishing charm struck his face with such force that his chin bone cracked and his nose crunched unpleasantly.

As Gandalf struggled to regain enough focus to fight back, Voldemort picked away at him. A cut there, a broken bone there, and one long Crucio later had Voldemort giddy as he lorded over the twitching mass before him.

No further resistance could be put force, that much was clear to Voldemort. This man had witnessed the power of the Dark Lord, and been laid low. Now it was time to end his miserable life. He glared into the defeated wizard's eyes, and still saw traces of defiance in them. Ha! How like Dumbledore indeed…

Still, as Voldemort called forth the Avada Kedavra, he forgot one thing. A simple thing that many who had faced Gandalf tended to forget. Things didn't usually work out well for them either.

He hadn't remembered the wizard's staff.

With what strength remained and driven mostly by pure will, Gandalf tightened his grip on the staff and swept Tom Riddle's legs right out from under him. The look on the man's snake like face as his death spell fired harmlessly into the sky would have been priceless.

Voldemort struggled to regain his footing as quickly as possible, or at least Apparate away, only to come face to face with the end of Gandalf's staff, just as the White Wizard prepared a potent light spell.

The scream that came from the snake-man was near inhuman. The light, not at all harmful to Gandalf, had nearly turned the terror of England's eyes to charcoal. Such was his pain and slowly growing terror that the Dark Lord began firing the darkest curses he could think of as fast as he could, not one of them close to hitting Gandalf, but instead peppering the land with a variety of nasty effects.

Instead, Gandalf stood just to his opponent's right, charing magic into his staff. He was done playing, and he wanted to show this Dark Lord what real magic was. He had enough magic in his staff to pull a trick similar to what he had used in his fight with the Balrog, only with a different target. Balancing himself was difficult due to his damaged leg and heavily tortured body, but he could manage.

Swinging his staff, magic powerful enough to smash a solid stone bridge headed straight for Voldemort. Striking him square in the chest, there was a split second as the magic traveled into it's target. Then, Voldemort glowed a violent red before exploding outward, his body utterly destroyed, reduced to ash and pulp. The Elder Wand, forged by death himself, was shattered in the blast.

The man once called Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, was dead.

Gandalf sighed heavily, leaning on his cane for support. That hadn't been an easy battle, but in the end his opponent's arrogance had been his undoing. Such was the fate of all evil men. Still, though this day was one, it did raise several questions: Who was that man, where had he come from, and why was he here? Gandalf had much to think about, but for now, it was time for rest, and healing. Perhaps it was time to visit his friends the elves again…?

The End.

Winner: Gandalf the White!

And there you go, Good triumphs over evil! It didn't have the analysis I put in my others, but I thought a good fight scene would be appreciated anyway. Now then, I guess I should get to work on Naruto/Aang...

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a if I miss it, Happy New Years!

Until Next Time...