I didn't mean to end up writing fanfic for this show. I didn't even mean to start watching it, or get attached. It's just that Cedric really hits me in a character archetype soft spot – bad guys who are bad at being bad… and magicians who are bad at magic. I don't know how many (if any) of you know of the Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle, but one of the main characters is Schmendrick the Magician, a sorcerer who can barely do card tricks, and I see quite a few parallels between him and Cedric. Constantly made fun of for lack of skill, holding out hope that one day they will be great, and having someone come into their life to help them along the way. The quotes at the beginning and end are from the Last Unicorn book, which I highly recommend. It's a fantastic, beautiful read.

"What can I do? What can I do, with my magic? Hat tricks, penny tricks, or the one where I scramble stones to make an omelet? I'll try whatever you suggest, for I would certainly be happy to be of some practical use."

Cedric stamped out the last of the flames and sank into his chair, head in hands. He had less than a day to get this blasted concoction right before the something-or-other jubilee that evening. It had been a long time since he'd bothered keeping track of what all these parties were for. The King, for whatever ungodly reason, wanted something that could make fireworks stay exactly the way they were after exploding. Cedric had said, "Yes, of course, Your Majesty," and promptly went to his room (adjoined to the workshop) and screamed into a pillow.

Oh, in theory, it was easy enough. Brew a potion, dab it on the rockets, light the fuse, and voíla! Frozen fireworks.

The problem was Cedric didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to dealing with explosives. He'd been up all night trying to get this potion right, and at this point there wasn't much in the workshop that didn't have scorch marks on it, especially himself. He wasn't entirely sure he still had both his eyebrows. (Wormwood had long since decided to be in another part of the castle, the coward.)

Half-heartedly, he rolled his chair over to where his spellbook was open on its stand. The recipe was on the complex side, but he'd dealt with worse, and he was sure he was getting the ingredients and measurements right. The touch of magic he needed to add had to be where he was going wrong. Typical. Magic, hard as he tried, had a habit of slipping away from him. He could blame his wand or the weather or whatever other external distractions all he liked, but he knew that at the heart of it, it was all him.

He slouched further into the chair. Who am I kidding, he thought miserably. I'm not a royal sorcerer; I'm a royal joke.

Can't do magic, can't do jack. And his best (only) human friend was an eight-year-old girl. He dragged his hands down his face, leaving smears of soot behind. Pathetic.

There was a knock at the door, and a familiar voice called, "Mr. Cedric?"

"I'm not here!" he shouted back.

There was a giggle, and the door creaked open. "You're silly," Princess Sofia said as she entered the workshop.

Cedric waved a tired hand, and the door closed behind her. "What is it you want this time?" he asked wearily.

"Nothing," Sofia replied. "I heard an explosion and wanted to make sure you were okay." She looked around, and her eyes widened. "What happened here?"

"Dear King Roland," Cedric said, acid dripping from the name as he spoke it, "wants a rather volatile party trick potion. But I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint him once more. I can't do it."

"Why not?" Sofia asked, wandering over to straighten some beakers that had been knocked around.

"Because I can't," he repeated emphatically.

She looked at him curiously. "But why not?"

Exhaustion and frustration congealed into something nasty, and he was suddenly on his feet, towering over her. "Because I'm not good enough," he snarled.

The moment the words left his lips, his mouth went dry. For all the times he'd thought the phrase, he'd never actually said it. Sure, he hinted at it all too frequently, but always with a tone that implied that he really was better than that. He'd never admitted it with such conviction behind it. It appalled him that he was comfortable enough around the girl to let his deepest insecurity slip out.

Sofia's eyes were huge as she stared up at him, and she seemed almost frightened, but now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. Years of pent up rage and hurt were leaping in his throat. "I've never been good enough! I'm barely tolerated and openly mocked, and then I'm expected to do things perfectly anyway!" He began to gesture wildly. "Cedric, do this! Cedric, do that! Oh, Cedric, now look what you've done! And the worst part?" His hands clenched into fists. "The worst part is they're right! I bungle the simplest of spells, trip over the most basic of runes, and blow myself up on a regular basis!" This last was emphasized by a sweep of his arm to indicate the state of the room around him, and then, as suddenly as it had come, the fight drained from him. He turned away so Sofia couldn't see his face and ran his fingers through his hair, shoulders slumped. "They make no mistake when they call me second-rate," he finished softly.

There was a moment of silence, and then a small hand slipped into his. He looked down in surprise to see Sofia smiling gently up at him. "Mr. Cedric, you're the best sorcerer I know," she said.

"You don't know many sorcerers," he replied dryly, but he made no move to pull away.

She shrugged. "Maybe not," she said. "But you've helped me with so much, and you do mess up sometimes, but it always turns out alright in the end. I think you just need to believe in yourself more."

Cedric pursed his lips, staring down at her, and he couldn't help but notice how well she'd grown into the role of princess. A natural air of leadership surrounded her, and she was compassionate, patient, and very brave. She would make a fantastic Queen one day, if a throne was ever opened to her. (The twins, obviously, had dibs on Enchancia.) He realized with a rather sickening jolt that if she were the one in charge, maybe he wouldn't mind his own role in the castle so much. That was a dangerous thought to have if he ever hoped to take over the kingdom, but now that he'd had it, he couldn't quite shake it. He snatched his hand from hers as if he'd been burned. "I should get back to this," he muttered.

Sofia's face lit up into a huge grin. "So you're not giving up on it, then?"

"If that's what it takes to get you to leave me alone," he grumbled as he turned back to his spellbook, "then yes."

Sofia clapped her hands and hopped up onto the chair to get a better look at what he was reading. "Can I help?"

"Absolutely not," Cedric replied. "Your father would have my head if you were so much as singed."

"It's okay, Mr. Cedric," she said. "I trust you."

"Well, you shouldn't," he snapped. Her amulet glinted in the corner of his eye.

"Aw, c'mon Mr. Grumpy-face," she teased, poking his cheek and earning a small "don't" from him. "You let me help you all the time!"

"In case you haven't noticed," Cedric replied, "this task is a bit riskier than most."

"Can I at least take a look?" she pleaded. "Maybe I'll catch something you missed."

Cedric caved under the weight of her beseeching blue eyes. "Fine," he said. "But just one look."

Sofia grinned and leaned over to read the book. As she scanned the page, he explained, "I've got the right ingredients, and I'm sure they're mixed in the right way. It's the spell I'm having trouble with." He wasn't really sure what she expected to do. This was advanced magic, way beyond what they were teaching her in school. And yet… she had been spending quite a lot of time up here in his workshop lately, constantly asking questions. It had annoyed him at first, but he began to mind less and less as she soaked up every scrap of information like a sponge. She had a natural talent, that much was clear, and she seemed determined to learn as much as she possibly could.

Her face was scrunched up in concentration, and he could practically hear the gears in her head whirring. Then- "A-ha!"

Cedric nearly jumped out of his skin. "What? What?"

She tapped her finger on the line about titrating the fire poppy extract. "You're doing this wrong."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you," she answered, bopping him on the nose, and he went cross-eyed for a second. "You're absolutely terrible at titration."

He put his hands on his hips. "I am not!"

Sofia rolled her eyes. "You're too impatient," she said. "You need the exact drop that changes the mixture, and you always go past it because you're trying to get it done faster. And without titrating it right, you don't know the concentration of the extract, and so you don't know what the right amount of it to put in is!"

Cedric glared, unable to deny that she was right, and she deflected his baleful look with a triumphant grin. "See? It wasn't the magic that was going wrong, after all!"

"How do you know it wasn't both?" Cedric asked, but he felt a tiny spark of hope.

"Well, why don't we try it and see? And I'll titrate."

"Alright," Cedric conceded grudgingly. He paused. "You're very bright, you know. Most kids your age wouldn't even know where to begin with something like this, let alone correct mistakes."

"You're just a good teacher, that's all," she replied simply, climbing down off the chair.

He couldn't figure out a proper response, so he left it at that and began to reorganize his equipment.

Creating the potion felt like less of a chore with Sofia beside him. She hummed as she worked, and he found himself humming along with her, until at last it was done. It had taken a bit longer than he'd have liked it to, what with Sofia breathing down his neck about precision, but it was worth it – at least, he hoped it would be.

Then came the hard part. "Stay behind me," he said as he lifted his wand. Sophia nodded, holding onto his free hand – not for her sake, he realized, but for his. Cedric took a deep breath, and Sophia's words came back to him. You just need to believe in yourself more.

Taking life advice from a child, he thought wryly. This must be a new low.

But he could feel her tiny hand in his, strong for her age, and thought that if she believed in him, maybe he could too.

He flicked his wand and said a few words that crackled, then touched it gently to the surface of the potion in the small cauldron. Squeezing his eyes shut, he waited for it to explode.

It didn't.

"Mr. Cedric, look!"

He cracked one eye open, then both went wide. The potion was the exact fiery shade of red-orange it was supposed to be, and small yellow sparks danced over the surface.

"It worked!" Sofia exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

Cedric had to force back his own excitement, and he put a hand on top of her head to still her. "We don't know that yet," he replied. "Be a dear and grab one of those rockets in the corner."

Sofia raced to bring it to him, and he dipped the tip of it into the potion. Once he'd done that, he crossed to the window and opened it, propping the rocket on the windowsill so it pointed up and away. "Would you care to do the honors?" Cedric asked, offering the wand to Sofia.

"I would indeed," she replied, taking the wand and tapping it on the end of the fuse to light it. They both stepped away as the fuse burned down. Then a bang had them clapping their hands over their ears, followed by a long whistle and punctuated by pops and crackles. Scrambling to the window, they looked out to see the blooming shimmer of the fireworks' sparks suspended in pristine condition.

"It works," Cedric said numbly. A slow grin spread across his face, and he looked down at Sofia. "It works!"

Sofia squeaked in surprise as she was hauled up off her feet and spun into a hug. Before she could hug him back, she was on the ground again. Cedric took her hands and waltzed her around the room, singing, "It works, it works!" as she giggled with delight.

Suddenly, he came back to himself and halted so abruptly Sofia lost her balance and nearly fell over. He stepped back and coughed into his hand. "I mean," he said haughtily, inspecting his nails. "Of course it works. I am the greatest sorcerer in the world, after all."

Sofia hid a smile. "Of course," she replied playfully.

Cedric looked down at her again, and his face softened. "Thanks," he said.

She beamed at him. "Anytime!" she replied, and then recollection crossed her face. "Oh, I can't believe I forgot! I promised Baileywick I'd help him with some of the setup. I've gotta go, but I'll see you later. Maybe during the celebration? We could dance again."

Cedric looked away, trying not to turn red. "Oh, no, no, I don't do well at parties, and I'm no good at dancing."

"If you say so," Sofia said, giving him a skeptical look. "You should come anyway. You might end up having a good time! And you have to at least show up for the fireworks."

"I can see the fireworks just fine from here," he replied.

"That's silly," she said. "After all the hard work you put into this, you should enjoy them properly."

He could tell that this was an argument he wasn't going to win. "Fine, fine, just go away," he griped. "I have a lot to clean up now."

Sofia flashed him a grin. "Great! Bye, Mr. Cedric!"

Cedric waved after her as she disappeared out the door, then let his hand drop to his side. The workshop, for all its clutter, suddenly felt far too empty in her absence. He wandered back over to the window and looked out at where the firework still hung in the air. For once, the constant scheming in the back of his head was blissfully silent as he watched the glittering display, and he thought instead about how grand this would look at night.

And for the first time, he was happy about the magic he'd done, not because it had forwarded some plot or task, but simply for the sake of having done it.

"You have magic. Maybe you can't find it, but it's there. You have all the power you need, if you dare to look for it."