Once the contestants had finished brewing Charles examined each one, his face impassive until he came to Mr. Lecuyer's cauldron. There was a suspicious bubbling going on and the color was a sickly orange color which definitely wasn't right. Amused by he was by the other man's failure, he waved his wand and got rid of the substance before it potentially became volatile. He wouldn't be gloating if he spent the rest of the week in St. Mungo's with half his face melted off.

When he came to Miss MacFusty's potion he was filled with immediate dismay. He couldn't possibly justify dismissing her from the competition when Mr. Gladstone's looked far too thick and rather untrustworthy. It would surely be an insult to Mr. Gladstone's pride as a Healer-in-Charge. Silver linings.

At least of the two healers who ran wards one of them wasn't under performing. If he had to be admitted to hospital any time soon he rather hoped it was due to a poisoning and not a magical disease. "My commiserations, Mr. Lecuyer, Mr. Gladstone." He turned to the remaining pair. "Mr. Fisk and Miss MacFusty, you will now brew a Wound-cleaning potion." With two healers brewing this one it was probably for the best it wasn't between Mr. Fisk and Mr. Gladstone, how would he have decided between two flawless potions then? "Merlin help us all if they're not perfect," he added wryly.

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