The Importance of Intent: After the Credits

Like Water For Chocolate Part 2

Fifteen minutes later they were seated by the lake, Neville's worried expression having returned due to her prolonged silence. Before she could begin he spoke.

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked, confusion lacing every word.

"No!" she quickly replied. "Though you may want to break up with me after you hear what I have to say...and I wouldn't blame you."

"What is wrong with you?" he angrily replied as if it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. "Just spit it out already so we can deal with it," he commanded.

So she did. She spent the next thirty minutes outlining her condition...the years and galleons her ancestors and her own parents had spent looking for a cure with no success. All of it.

She could tell he was grasping it but he deserved to understand the full weight her condition involved. She began explaining in terms that had resonated with her personally.

"Think about a glass of water representing a witch or wizard's life span," she continued. "Every wizard starts out with a full glass except for someone like Dumbledore...or Harry maybe. They start out with a bigger glass of water due to their power."

"So a bigger glass of water equals a longer life," Neville added, processing her words.

"Exactly," she continued. "Every normal day a bit of water is poured out until one day the glass is empty and they die. They may have physically or mentally stressful days that cause a little more water to be poured out than normal but that extra bit lost gets filled back up the next day once they rest and recover. If a witch has a child they have a lot more water poured out when they are pregnant but they can get the extra bit they lost added back over time. Are you following?"

She smiled to herself as he nodded intently, wanting her to continue.

"Because of the curse I started out with a glass that was only half full...and when I have a stressful day I lose more water than normal. But I don't get any poured back in...ever."

She could hear the sounds of the lake creatures in her periphery as Neville remained silent, processing her words.

"So how many years is your glass of water?" he asked.

"At best forty to forty five years," she immediately answered. He deserved to know the truth.

"And if you had a child?" he asked. This was it. He was the nicest person she had ever met and deserved to know the truth...regardless of its impact on their relationship.

"Subtract five to ten years based on how hard the pregnancy and childbirth turn out," she answered quietly, her eyes fixedly focused on the squid as it lazily splashed about...blissfully unaware of the drama and tension happening on the shore. "And the child may be cursed as well...there is no way of knowing until after they are born."

She had long ago given up on the thought of having a child and had been content with fussing over her nieces and nephews. She would be the exceedingly cool Aunt and she was okay with that. But with Neville...if everything worked out...it would be worth it.

As the silence dragged on she focused back on Neville, waiting for his response. He reached for her hand and began speaking.

"So my birthday...that was one of your stressful days. One of the days that you lost a bit more water than normal?"

She slowly nodded in confirmation.

"Why did you get mad at me when I brought the chair over?"

She felt so stupid at her answer. "I thought Daphne had realized I wasn't feeling well and had sent you over to help. It annoyed me."

"So Daphne worrying about you is bad?" he asked confusedly, making her feel like even more of an idiot.

"No...it's just...I know it's stupid but I hate it," she exclaimed. "I hate seeing my parents and Daphne upset about me so I try to hide it from them whenever I can. I can't help it," she finished angrily.

"But you deserve to know," she stubbornly continued. "You deserve to know what you are getting into if we become more serious. And I would totally understand if you want to break it off now before we get to that point."

Silence reigned once again as Neville pondered her response. She desperately wanted to speak but knew she had said enough. She had ten years to reconcile the implications of her condition and Neville deserved as much time as he needed to soak it in before responding. Finally...finally...he began to speak.

"What do you want?" he gently asked.

"What?" she asked confusedly.

"What do you want? Do you want to break up?" he repeated.

"Of course not," she replied softly. "I would understand but I don't want that. At all."

"And you promise not to try and hide it from me? That you will let me help you?"

She nodded her agreement immediately.

Her heart soared at the genuine look of relief on his face.

"The last month and a half...spending time with you...has been great...like I've spent seventeen years drinking water but now I get to drink butterbeer instead."

"So...I'm the butterbeer?" she laughed.

"Yes...exactly...and I don't want to stop getting to drink butterbeer."

She couldn't help herself and leaped at him...all of her pent up emotion releasing in one burst. Many minutes later she rested her head on his shoulder...her worries temporarily forgotten.

"We should probably head back or we will be late to class," she eventually informed him, getting to her feet and reaching for his hand.

"Let's skip class," he replied, pulling her back down.

"Neville," she admonished him half heartedly, "we'll get in trouble...lose points."

"Sod the points. I'm thirsty."