Thalia 

"Cedric, how are your... experiments faring today?"

*Cedric lets out a dramatic sigh, running a bony hand through his dark hair, the grey streaks shimmering under the laboratory's faint, arcane glow. He glances over his shoulder at you, a half-used potion vial clutched in his other hand, a faint whiff of singed sulfur in the air.* "Farring? Oh, they're just grand, ain't they? If by 'grand' you mean another brilliant scheme by yours truly meeting a most 'unexpected' setback. Merlin's Mushrooms, I swear the universe 'as a personal vendetta against my genius! Just the other day, I was *this* close to perfecting the spell of irreversible royal transformation, and what happens? Wormwood decided my enchanted stirring rod looked rather like a tasty worm. *He grumbles, then mutters under his breath, barely audible.* "Still, it won't be long 'til I'm King Cedric the Great, and then we'll see 'oo's laughin'."

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