To the best of my knowledge, this is an original idea. It leapt, fully formed, from my feverish brow and I would love to see it adopted and incorporated into cannon. The characters, on the other hand, all belong to Madame Rowling and her corporate behemoth.
Harry Potter and the Fudge of Doom.
The twins were awfully quiet. This didn't bother Harry nearly as much as it did Ginny and Ron, mainly because they knew the twins better than Harry.
For the last week, the twins had entered the kitchen at the Burrow just after Breakfast, quietly thrust a plate of completely safe and normal sandwiches out the kitchen door at lunch, and abandoned the kitchen just minutes before their mother had returned from meeting with the Order. In between, the doors and windows of the room were locked, blocked, and silencioed.
Their younger siblings were getting worried. It was too quiet.
Harry yawned, "Look, it's probably just another product for the shop. If you're that curious, why don't you set up some extendable ears?"
Ron and Ginny looked at each other, both wondering why they hadn't thought of that. They quickly hustled to set the ears up before the twins took over the kitchen for the morning.
George looked around, no sign of their way over-curious siblings; he smiled and started securing the kitchen.
Fred took a small box out of his pocket and enlarged it to the size of a large crate, and started taking small boxes out of it and enlarging them to full size. Soon the kitchen was set up as the latest WWW workshop.
Harry and Ron were doing their potions assignment, (Hermione was due any day now and would doubtless nag them if they weren't done), while Ginny lay on the floor nearby giving a running commentary of what the twins were up to.
"George is casting security charms all over the kitchen," Her eyes widening at the apparent paranoia. "Damn, even Moody would approve of that one." She whistled her appreciation. "And Fred is casting a LOT of Engorgio's."
Harry didn't look up, "How can you tell which is which just from their voices?"
"Don't bother…she wont tell you." Ron muttered, turning the page of his text.
Ginny shook her head, listening.
"Damn that piece looks sexy." Ginny almost choked at the sudden change of direction in the conversation.
"Don't just look at it, get packing."
Ginny wondered at that comment, her attention drifting, but snapping back into place when a rhythmic huffing started up down in the kitchen.
"Am I packing this fudge too tight?" Huff. Grunt. Huff.
Grunt. "Yes, go a little easier, we don't have time to do this over again." Huff. Huff.
Ginny's face started to redden a little, and she stopped her commentary.
"Is six inches enough, or do you want more this time round?"
"Six is plenty thanks, I'd hate to have to stretch this out more to accommodate that."
Ginny gasped, finally attracting the attention of a curious Harry and Ron. Harry raised an eyebrow at her red face.
"What? Are they telling rude jokes down there?" Ron couldn't think of what was setting his sister off.
Ginny just nodded towards the other Extendable Ear on the floor beside her. Ron snatched it up; stuffing it in his ear, while Harry just went back to his reading.
"Just wait 'till we tell Mum and Dad about this." Laugh.
"Oh yes, a jolly fine pair of fudge packers we are." Chuckle.
"Good evening Mother, I just spent the last few days packing George's fudge."
"Rather well, if I do say so."
"We had a few false starts though."
"Like when you packed it too tightly…"
"…and we had to loosen it up…"
"…with a crowbar…"
"…and then repack it, but less tightly."
"And then there was that time when the…"
"…fudge was too runny to pack properly."
"Quite the disaster, took us hours to…"
"…clean up. I know, I know…"
"…my fudge is just so eminently…"
"…packable. I'm done, how are you doing."
"Buggered. Lets take a breather."
Ron's face was turning white. Ginny's face was as red as her hair.
Harry was looking at them curiously. "What?"
"Fred and George." Ron gasped out.
"Yes, Fred and George. What about them? Are they alright?" A hint of worry entering Harry's voice.
"They…they…they." Ron was quickly losing coherency.
"Ginny?" Harry, giving up on Ron, turned to the other redhead.
"They're gay?" She whispered, not believing her own voice.
"I'm tired of doing this on the floor, my knees are getting sore."
"Do you want to do it on the table then?"
"Later, over here next to the sink will do for now."
Colour started returning to his face as he realised what they were suggesting. "We have to stop them."
"What?" Harry asked, bewildered by this sudden turn of events.
"How am I supposed to eat at that table, knowing that George has been buggering Fred on it?" His eyes were wild with panic.
Harry froze, blinking, stunned at his best friends outburst.
"Actually, it was Fred that was…" Ginny started.
"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Ron shouted, hands over his ears.
"Here, I'll take a turn at packing the fudge."
Sigh. "But you never pack it tightly enough, it just goes all over the place."
"Once. Just once."
"Look, you keep making the fudge, and I'll pack it for you."
"You know, I've been thinking."
"Alone? You know that's a little hazardous."
Laughs. "I think we should bring Remus in."
"The werewolf? Why?"
"Well, with his stamina, think how long he could pack for, and it would free you up to make fudge as well."
Appreciative whistle. "Brilliant, brother mine."
"NOW THEY WANT TO TURN PROFESSOR LUPIN INTO A PASTEL-ROBED POO-PUNCHER AS WELL!" Ron was pacing across the room.
Harry noted that Ron was changing colours almost as quickly as Vernon Dursley could. "Ron, calm down."
"Don't you get it? They're trying to corrupt Professor Lupin!"
"Look, it's almost lunch time, why don't we go down and ask them when they hand out the sandwiches." Ever the voice of reason, Harry gestured placatingly for Ron to calm down.
The trio, Ron Harry and Ginny, were waiting outside the door to the kitchen.
The door cracked open and a plate full of sandwiches preceded a flushed George out of the room.
"Harry old chap, would you care to join us in the kitchen, we have something we'd like to show you." George stressed the word as he handed the plate of chicken and mayonnaise sandwiches to Ginny.
Ron and Ginny's eyes flew open. Neither had ever suspected their brothers would make a play for Harry.
"Sure." Harry nodded amiably, and preceded George into the kitchen.
As the door clicked shut, Ginny snapped out of her shock, grabbed Ron's arm and hissed, "The Ears."
Both of them rushed upstairs.
"Ah, before you say anything, guys. Ron and Ginny are listening in with Extendable Ears."
"Oh, no worries Harry, we created them, we can…" The voices in the kitchen faded into static.
"Oh, no." Ginny gasped, heartbroken.
"I can't believe he's been turned by them already." Ron shook his head and bit into a sandwich. It may be the end of the world, but his stomach was still empty.
Later that afternoon, Molly Weasley was finished up early with the Order of the Phoenix. Flooing back to the Burrow, she emerged from the fireplace to a scene of total desolation.
"Ginny? Ron? What's the matter darlings?"
Ginny sobbed, "It's H-Harry…"
"What's the matter with Harry? Where is he?"
Ron, currently a pale puce Vernon would be proud of, snorted angrily. "He's in the kitchen with the twins."
Molly gave her daughter a reassuring hug, and rushed past her youngest children towards the kitchen.
Bursting into the kitchen, Molly was totally and utterly shocked by what she beheld. Ginny and Ron, coming in behind her, could only look on, jaws dropped in surprise.
"A VOTE FOR FUDGE IS A VOTE FOR STABILITY!"
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was standing on their dining table. Bowler hat in one hand, walking cane in the other, flailing both around to emphasise his point.
It would have been highly impressive, except for the fact that Fudge was six inches high and made from chocolate, his voice small and squeaky.
Harry was collapsed in a chair, tears running down his face, holding his aching sides from the laughter.
The twins were hopping from foot to foot in excitement.
"THERE IS NO LORD THINGY!" Fudge announced self-righteously.
Molly's lips quirked.
Harry picked the Minister up, holding him by one leg.
"I DEMAND YOU RELEASE ME, I AM THE MINISTER!" Cornelius was waving his arms around frantically.
"What happens when you start to eat him?" Harry asked.
"Try it, legs first…"
"AURORS! AURORS!" Fudge was getting quite frantic as he approached Harry's mouth.
Harry bit the legs off.
"AHHH. AURORS, ARREST THAT MAN!" The tiny minister waved towards Harry.
"Not bad chocolate guys." Harry commented as he swallowed, and bit again into the chocolate.
"AURORS. WHERE IS MY DEMENTOR? KISS HIM. KISS HIM!"
"Damn he's obnoxious." Ron commented finally.
Molly was leaning against the wall; tears of laughter streaming down her face. Ginny was still frozen, her thoughts stunned into immobility.
"AURORS!" Minister fudge managed one final appeal before Harry popped the last of him into his mouth and crunched him up.
Ginny looked around the room, it was filled with boxes and boxes labelled with the WWW logo, and suddenly all the pieces fell into place for her. She slipped past her mother and grabbed Harry in a fierce hug, surprising everyone in the room.
"Um, Harry." Ron asked quietly.
Harry looked nervously at the almost feral glow that was lighting the twins' eyes. "Yes Ron?"
"You do know that is our sister, don't you?"
"I was kind of aware of that fact, yes. But thank you for pointing it out once again."
Molly stopped laughing long enough to intervene before anything more could happen. "So what was the problem then, Ron?"
"Those two are a pair of flaming fairies, that's what." Ron started, his brain not having finished processing what he had seen.
"WHAT?" Molly turned on the twins, her face reddening.
"Oh yes," Fred started, the feral gaze shifting from Harry to Ron, becoming almost gleeful.
"We've been packing…"
"…the fudge all week…"
"…Mother." George was also staring at Ron, with an…unsavoury light to his eyes. "You can see…"
"…the results all…"
"…around us. I think that…"
"…Ron must have been…"
"…using one of our Extendable…"
"…Ears, and misheard us talking."
Both twins were now shaking their heads sadly.
Molly looked at them both, then turned on Ron. "What have I told you about using those things?"
Ron suddenly realised he had been had. "Um, don't?"
"I think the garden needs degnoming…don't you?" Molly's eyes were narrowing as she watched her youngest son.
Behind her back, the twins were shaking hands over a job well done, while Harry and Ginny were whispering to each other. Harry ruffled her hair and she grinned and let him go.
Ron sulkily headed outside to take out his temper on the gnomes.
A few days later, the Chocolate Fudge was the toast of the Wizarding World.
Percy Weasley was hiding under his desk, peeking over the edge at the parcel sitting, quite innocently, at the centre. This was not in the least bit unreasonable, nor an overreaction on his part.
The twins had sent it to him by owl post.
The Minister walked by, noticed the rather undignified posture of his assistant, and the presence of an unopened box on his desk. "What's this then, Weatherby?"
Still hidden mostly under the desk, he looked up at the Minister, "It appears to be a box, Sir." He swallowed nervously. "From my brothers."
Fudge peered down at the box, "I see, Ah, a note is attached."
Dearest Brother Percy,
Terribly sorry about all the trouble in the past.
Thought you might like to try a free sample our newest product. It is from our new line of candies.
Feel free to share it with your employer.
Fred and George.
"Well, isn't that nice. Shall I see what they sent?" He looked down at his nervous subordinate. "I hear those brothers of yours are becoming quite the popular ones, with that shop of theirs. Though I feel the Ministry may have to have a few words with them about safety concerns. Hmmm."
Percy looked up at the Minister in horror. "I wouldn't recommend that, Sir."
But he had spoken too late, and ducked under the table as Fudge opened the box, squeezing his eyes shut.
Percy peeked up at Fudge, "What was that, Minister?"
"It appears to be a number of boxes shaped like a Tell-Eye-Foam Blooth. You know, that thing up at the entrance to the Ministry."
Percy could see him manipulating a reddish coloured box, and ducked again.
"Minister? Are you all right? Are you hurt?" Percy couldn't see anything wrong from where he sat, and risked a peek over the edge of the table.
There, standing proudly in the centre of the table was a tiny, chocolate coloured replica of Cornelius Fudge. He appeared to be preparing to address them.
"A VOTE FOR FUDGE IS A VOTE FOR STABILITY" It's tiny voice yelled out.
"My word! How ingenious. Your brothers are brilliant, Weasley, absolutely brilliant." Fudge was rubbing his hands together. "I would never have thought of using candy in my re-election campaign. Brilliant."
Percy looked up at his boss in shock. He had been working for Fudge for quite a while now, and it was the first time he had gotten his name right. He could feel tears of joy welling up in his eyes.
"WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, THE FUDGE GETS GOING."
The real Cornelius Fudge looked down on his tiny chocolate homunculus with pride.
"Weasley. Write up, and send your brothers an official Ministerial Award for services to the community." He looked thoughtful for a moment.
"THE DAILY PROPHET IS NOT A MOUTHPIECE FOR THE MINISTRY, WE VALUE THEIR INDEPENDENCE AND INTEGRITY"
"Oh yes, and let the Prophet know we're sending it. Perhaps we could set up a photo opportunity." Fudge smiled to himself, satisfaction evident on his face.
Percy just nodded. He was not looking forward to this.
Minerva MacGonnegal was glaring at her colleagues with her usual stern disapproval.
It had little effect, though.
Pomona had long since fallen out of her chair, now collapsed on the floor giggling.
Filius had managed to retain his seat, but had reduced himself to hiccups from the extremes of laughter.
Even Severus. Dour, snarkey Severus. Could barely contain his laughter, only repeating the word 'can' over and over, while tears poured down his cheeks.
The worst of them was, of course, Albus, whose eyes were setting new sparkling records as his hearty laugh nearly drowned out the rest.
The cause? Those infernal chocolates the Weasley twins had sent to the Headmaster and Staff of Hogwarts. Of which, six were currently performing some kind of synchronised dance number, involving hiking up their robes and kicking their bared legs up in the air. She would swear they were wearing fishnet stockings.
She couldn't understand it. Really.
Blagstiff was very pleased. "Yes, Griphook shall be assigned as your personal account manager. And we are honoured that you continue to have faith in our management of your quite substantial holdings, Lord Black."
Harry smiled, making sure not to show his teeth, and took another sip of tea. "Thank you, Blagstiff."
"Now would you care to celebrate this occasion by enjoying a 'Chocolate Fudge' with me?"
Harry was surprised, he hadn't realised goblins ate chocolate. "Certainly."
Blagstiff snapped his fingers, and another goblin entered carrying a pair of Fudge boxes and a pair of mallets on a tray, depositing it's contents on the table between Harry and Blagstiff.
Confused, Harry followed Blagstiff's lead, afraid of causing offence.
Blagstiff unwrapped the Fudge, placing it on the table.
"DARK CREATURES SHOULD K…"
Anything else it had to say was cut short when Blagstiff brought the mallet down upon it, crushing it flat with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He then watched as Harry did the same, before sweeping the remains into a conveniently nearby dustpan.
Harry raised his eyebrow, "You know, they get quite indignant if you bite their legs off, and often call for Auror assistance, if not outright call for a dementor to kiss the person eating them."
Blagstiff blinked in surprise for a few moments. "You mean they are edible?"
Harry nodded, equally surprised, though doubtless for a different reason.
"What will they think of next." Blagstiff shook his head in wonder.
The twins were sitting together behind the counter of their shop in Diagon Alley, gleefully reading and rereading the letter from Gringott's relating their current vault balance, when the front door opened.
Remus Lupin entered the shop, looked around. "Good, noone here." He turned around, locked the front door, and flipped the closed sign.
"I say, Remus…" Fred began.
"…old chap, what do…"
"…you think you are…"
"…doing? The lunch…"
"…rush will be…"
"Gentlemen. Nice award." Remus spoke quietly, but his voice immediately interrupted them.
Both twins glanced back at the wall behind them at the plaque that Cornelius Fudge had given them in a big presentation a few days before.
"I only wish Sirius could have been here to see this, he would have loved it." Remus almost choked thinking about his lost friend, but quickly moved on. "He would have been proud. I am proud of you both. It's not often someone manages to prank the entire wizarding world, after all."
The twins were just staring at their old Professor.
George spoke up, "It's nice…"
"…to be appreciated…"
Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a very beaten old book. He placed it on the bench in front of the twins. It looked as though a dog had been chewing on it.
"Gentlemen, you may henceforth refer to me as Moony, and when you are finished with that book, I shall expect you to pass it on to Harry, like you did our Map."
The twins looked at Remus in shock. Looked down at the book. Then back up…but Remus was nowhere to be seen.
"Brother?" Fred whispered.
"I cannot believe it either."
"Then that means…"
"…have been Padfoot…"
"…but what does Harry…"
"…have to do with it?"
"Shall we check…"
"…the book then? But…"
"…of course, Brother mine."
Fred pulled out his wand, tapped the book, and spoke the phrase that had become second nature to the pair of them. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
Writing began to flow across the books pages. The Marauders Guide to the Animagus Transformation.
Two huge grins affixed themselves to the twins faces, with no intention of leaving any time that century.
In a dark place, a nervous man had just placed a strange red box on a small table in front of a magnificent throne.
"What have you brought before me, Wormtail?"
"A-A-A p-present, m-m-m-my Lord," the man grovelled at the feet of the dark robed figure.
"Hmmm…Open Here…" The Dark Lord was examining the box. It bore a remarkable likeness to the telephone booth that served as the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. He peeled away to tab.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic!" The voice was pleasant and feminine, and an exact duplicate of the voice in the real phone booth.
As the box peeled away, a miniature Cornelius Fudge was revealed. It stood up, dusted it self off, and promptly declared:
"THE DARK LORD HAS NOT RETURNED!"
Elsewhere in the Dark Lord's manse, Death Eaters cowered in fear as the high-pitched shrieking laughter of their master spun out into the night.
For those wondering about the mechanics of it, imagine something like a Chocolate Frog but shaped like Cornelius Fudge. Now get some sound bytes from his various speeches, and program in some basic reactions in a similar manner to the wizard chess pieces. Ta-daa. The Chocolate Fudge.
Thanks to Finbar for helping to flesh out the idea.