Cornelius Fudge was a man of impeccable taste—both in his career and in his desserts. As Minister of Magic, his robes were always pressed to perfection, his bowler hat perched just so on his head, and his pockets stuffed with one of his greatest passions: fudge. His love for fudge wasn't just a quirk; it was practically his brand, It was in the name afterall
There wasn't a meeting in the Ministry where Cornelius didn't punctuate his sentences with bites of the sugary treat. "We must address the dragon regulations," he would say, unwrapping a fudge square. "But first, a caramel swirl." He claimed that fudge helped him think, though many suspected it just gave him a convenient excuse to avoid awkward silences.
It was a crisp autumn morning when Cornelius's love for fudge embroiled him in one of the oddest mysteries of his career. The enchanted fudge shipments from Sweet Sorcery, the most renowned confectioner in the magical world, had gone missing. This wasn't just any fudge—it was Ministry Grade Fudge, known for its magical bursts of energy and occasional glow-in-the-dark properties.
Cornelius was devastated. "This is an attack on all that is good and sweet in the world!" he proclaimed dramatically to his staff. His senior undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, rolled her eyes. She had seen Cornelius get this worked up before—like the time he ordered an investigation into why his fudge delivery was late, only to find out he had accidentally written the wrong address.
Still, a case was a case, and Cornelius insisted on taking it seriously. "Gather the finest investigators," he commanded, pacing in his office. "Call in the Aurors, the Hitwizards, and even that nosy tabloid reporter who's always lurking by the fountain. The people demand justice—and I demand fudge!"
The investigation began with a visit to Sweet Sorcery, where the owner, a frazzled wizard named Basil Ganache, greeted them. "Minister Fudge, it's an honor!" Basil stammered, wiping his chocolate-stained hands on his apron. "I swear, the fudge vanished into thin air! One moment it was here, and the next—poof!"
Cornelius squinted at him suspiciously, nibbling on the last piece of fudge he had managed to save. "Poof, you say? That sounds like advanced confectionary sabotage."
As the days went by, rumors swirled. Some said a band of rogue goblins had taken to smuggling magical sweets across borders. Others believed it was the work of jealous rival confectioners. But Cornelius had his own theory: the fudge had been enchanted to leave him because he wasn't eating it quickly enough.
"We must consider every possibility," Cornelius declared at a staff meeting, his voice muffled by the mouthful of fudge he had just bitten into. Dolores couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Including the possibility that you've finally lost your mind."
The breakthrough came when an overeager intern named Percy Weasley discovered a trail of fudge crumbs leading to the Ministry's archives. The room was locked tight, but Cornelius wasn't deterred. "Stand back," he said dramatically, pulling out his wand. "I'll handle this." With a flick of his wrist and the incantation, "Fudgify Unsealio!" the door creaked open.
Inside, they found a small, furry creature with fudge smeared all over its face and paws. It looked up at them guiltily, clutching a half-eaten block of Sweet Sorcery's finest. Cornelius gasped. "A Niffler!"
Nifflers were rare magical creatures known for liking shiny objects and sweets, especially those wrapped in shiny foil. This one had clearly been sneaking into Sweet Sorcery's storerooms and teleporting the fudge to its cozy hideout.
"Well," Cornelius said, crouching down to examine the creature, "I can't say I blame you. Fudge is irresistible." The Nibblesnatch chirped in agreement, holding out a piece of fudge as a peace offering.
In the end, Cornelius decided not to punish the creature. Instead, he struck a deal with Basil Ganache to supply the Niffler with a steady stream of leftover fudge in exchange for keeping it away from the main stock. The crisis was resolved, and Cornelius's beloved fudge was safe once more.
As he sat in his office that evening, unwrapping a fresh piece of caramel swirl, Cornelius couldn't help but smile. "Another case solved," he said to himself. "And all thanks to my impeccable leadership—and, of course, fudge."
Dolores Umbridge passed by his door, shaking her head. "Impeccable leadership, my foot," she muttered. But even she couldn't help but laugh. After all, Cornelius Fudge and his fudge-filled escapades were a reminder that sometimes, even the most absurd passions could lead to sweet victories.