Head in his hands, Cedric tried desperately to regain control of his temper. As he finished his silent count, he took a deep breath and looked up at the young prince sitting across from him.
"How is it possible that you can't do this?" he asked Henry, quite pleased with himself for keeping most of the frustration out of his voice.
Henry sat up as if affronted, spine straightening, and he blinked his eyes.
"How am I supposed to know?" he asked in return. "Aren't you the teacher? You tell me why I can't do it."
That was it! Cedric was tired of the attitude and the number of times the boy foisted the blame for his lack of prowess onto someone else.
"Look," Cedric stated, "I don't care if you're going to be my king one day, and I don't care if you're supposed to be some sort of prodigy destined to save this wretched kingdom. I WILL NOT be spoken to this way any longer."
Cedric stood and began to pace along the length of the table that was thankfully between him and his student.
"I have no idea how you're supposed to amount to anything let alone a saviour with untold magical ability," he spat brutally, hoping to shock the boy into better behaviour. "If you can't even cast a pair of second year spells by this point, you're not only dooming this kingdom, you're likely going to get yourself killed. And with an attitude like you've been throwing around, good riddance!"
As soon as the rant left his mouth, Cedric was sorry for saying the words. It wasn't that they weren't true, but Henry didn't really need to hear all of Cedric's thoughts and concerns laid bare like that.
Henry blinked rapidly a few times, pushed himself up from the table, and fled the room.