A/N: Response time!

Gs33022, yes, Mr. Wonka is indeed getting involved! (He was on the character list, so it was bound to happen! :-D) He will make his physical debut very shortly, but not yet. Additionally, when I got this story all set up to upload the first chapter, I tried to select a fifth character to put on the list, but I was stopped because there is apparently a four-character limit for descriptions. It's just as well now that I think about it; it probably would have been a spoiler had I been able to add this person. Will it be one of the other tour-goers in canon (if so, which one?), or will it be an OC? Time will tell!

The Beauregardes reread the letter. Then, they proceeded to do so again. They skimmed over certain parts of the response to make absolutely sure that they were reading it correctly. Willy Wonka—THE Willy Wonka, who was so inventive that he could accomplish the impossible—wouldn't be able to help?! Violet may have to move in until who knew how long?! It was all so shocking.

Scarlett looked to Sam. "You know, we never did tell Violet why she undergoes her transformation. Do you think that now may be the right time?"

Sam sighed rather loudly, his eyes squinting in thought. "Perhaps. After all, she's been talking quite frequently about a few crushes at school, but she is worried that she won't be able to go out on proper date nights in a few years. She's old enough to know, I'm sure."

"I don't know about that, sweetie," Scarlett added. "After all, telling her how to break the spell might encourage her to go and try to make out with people willy-nilly in desperation."

Sam cringed. "Oh, yeah, thank you. I see your point." He raised an eyebrow in further thought. "We'll have to tell her SOMETHING, though."

"Well, I guess it's worth a shot, then." Scarlett's eyes skimmed over the last paragraph once more. "We can't go with Violet to the factory, though. I know that the letter says that this move will be temporary, but you still have a job at the car lot, and we both still need to pay the debts on the house. Just leaving it empty for an undetermined amount of time will cause more problems than we're trying to solve! Don't you also have a speech that you're supposed to give at a political meeting late next month?"

"I most definitely do, and I can't get out of it!"

The two looked over the last paragraph yet again. They caught this sentence: Even if you will have to leave her with me, rest assured that I will take very good care of her. They looked at each other, seriously considering the idea, but also nervous about the possible consequences.

"Well, I really don't want to do this—and I'm sure that you don't, either—but it looks like we might have to separate from Violet and just have her move in by herself, with Mr. Wonka as her caretaker! I mean, what other options do we really have?"

"You're right, Scarlett. I DON'T want to do this. Unfortunately, she can't go on in this house much longer. Still, the thought of this entire proposition: putting her in an exotic environment specifically because she has a hard-to-manage curse that won't go away until a lover's kiss, presumably not to come back home until the curse is broken—by golly, this sounds like a Grimm's fairy tale!"

Scarlett put her left hand on her husband's right shoulder. "Well, think of this as her going off to university really early. We would have had to part then anyway. Besides, I'm sure Mr. Wonka has a telephone service installed somewhere, even if he has been hidden for all these years."

Sam got up from the kitchen table, groaning. "I hope Violet hasn't already had a bad day at school, because our news may be about to make her day even worse." He and his wife walked through the living room and into the narrow hallway where Violet's bedroom was located.

...

The door to Violet's room was closed. Sam put out a fist and gently made the "shave and a haircut" tap on the door, with his knuckles.

"I'm pretty busy right now. What is it?" Violet could be heard calling out.

"Your mother and I have something rather important that we really need to tell you."

"Fine. Come in." There was a clear hint of annoyance in the tone of the response.

Sam opened the door very slowly, and he and Scarlett entered. Violet was sitting at the desk at the far side of her room, busy at a small typewriter. Although she wasn't facing her parents, she still could be heard chewing on a piece of worn-out gum.

Her parents approached her very slowly. They figured that she was more than likely typing an essay for a class (after all, that was why the second typewriter was bought recently in the first place). Obviously, this wasn't an ideal time, but there was no way that the talk could be put off.

Sam pulled out a nearby bar stool, offering it silently to Scarlett. She opted in silent gestures to bring over the high-rise beanbag chair from another part of the room and sit on that instead, so Sam took the stool for himself. They arranged the two seats side-by-side.

Sam began to talk. "Violet, as I'm sure you know, you have a unique problem where you fill up with juice every night and more or less turn into a living blueberry."

Violet was still looking at her paper, not even bothering to turn her head. "Yes, of course I know that, Dad! Now, if you don't mind, when you're finished restating the obvious, could you and Mother leave me alone again? I'm trying to focus on this English essay, and I'm not about to lose my concentration and have to white out yet another word!" She half-barked as she spoke, which had started to become more and more common within the past year.

Ignoring this rude reply, Sam went on. "Well, yes, it was more or less stating the obvious, but there are some details that we think you ought to know now. We've never told you the whole story, but your mother and I believe that it's time we did."

Violet groaned and rolled her eyes, biting her gum super hard. She turned her whole body in her chair to face her parents. "Okay, but be fast, please."

"We'll try, but we can't promise." Sam turned to Scarlett. "Do you want to start?"

Scarlett licked her lips, focusing. "It started the day before you were born. The weather was really miserable, and it rained nearly all afternoon. Fortunately, it stopped by the evening, but there had been enough rain to form puddles by the streets. Naturally, being in the early spring, I thought nothing of the weather. Your father and I were so excited about the new arrival to our family anyway, so I guess you could say that our focus was diverted to what were supposed to be happy thoughts. I just remember all of those dozens of times you would kick in my tummy! We had kept track of the months that had passed, so we knew that you would be coming very soon.

"As it turned out, we were right. The next morning, I started to go into labor all of a sudden. Now, as I stated, it had rained something awful the previous afternoon, but most of the water had evaporated, and the smell of the atmosphere and the fresh grass was quite pleasant. We had no time to focus on that, though, as your father had to shift his gears immediately to driving me to the delivery room of the hospital in time." Scarlett stopped and turned to Sam. "You know this next part better than I do because you were more involved. Do you want to pick up from here?"

Sam giggled very nervously. "Well, you see, Violet, this may look like it was my fault—I can already imagine that you're going to get angry with me—but your mother and I truly believe otherwise. After all, I was not the one who actually did this to you."

Violet squinted in half-confusion, half-annoyance. "What do you mean?"

"I'm getting there," Sam continued. "You're familiar with that open field area downtown that's popular for picnics, right? It's just a few minutes by car from your dentist, too. Well, on the way to the hospital, we happened to pass by someone who was setting up a pie stand in that location. She was unloading various pies from her car one by one, but because of the distance between her car and the stand, she had to walk next to the road on each trip over. As misfortune would have it, I failed to realize that there was a rain puddle that had remained from the icky weather the previous day. Without seeing the puddle, I drove over it and accidentally caused a wave that splashed her as she was carrying a pie."

Violet's jaw dropped, the look of which didn't last because she quickly went back to smacking on the bubble gum in her mouth. "Was she okay?"

"Other than getting drenched, she seemed to be. I pulled over to make absolutely sure, but she got really cross with me because some of the water had touched a pie that she had been carrying. We didn't see the big deal, but she was upset." Notably, all this time had passed, and Sam still didn't understand the issue.

Sam paused for a moment to sigh. He squinted his eyes, obviously dreading to explain the next part. "As it turned out, she was a witch. She punished us by looking at your mother's pregnant belly and casting a spell. The words still haunt both of us to this day."

"What words?" Violet asked nervously.

"By light of day, your form will stay, until the sunset at dusk is settled. New form take hold by night, until a kiss from your soulmate breaks the meddle." Sam recited, as if he were reading from a script. "Don't worry, we're not magical. I didn't do anything to you just now by repeating it."

Violet mouthed parts of the spell on repeat, trying to concentrate on its words. "What the heck is THAT supposed to mean?!"

Scarlett contributed to the discussion again. "Well, we both thought at first that she was mouthing nonsense. It wasn't until we discovered you as a blueberry that night that we realized that that lady meant business. Basically, what it's saying is that you will be stuck going through your normal form and the cursed one between sunset and sunrise, as you already know, but this curse won't be lifted until you receive a kiss from your soulmate—or, as they called it centuries ago, true love."

Violet's mouth flew open, her voice devoid of sound. This time, she did not bother to close her mouth to resume chewing her gum again.

"Oh, and we forgot to mention," Sam added, "it was a blueberry pie that got soaked. We presume that that's why the spell involves the form it does. Had it been, say, one of her cherry pies, you probably would be turning red and filling with cherry juice every night."

A tiny squeak emitted from Violet's vocal cords, her mouth still hanging open. Finally, she found her voice. Her tone was not amused in the slightest. "So…so…I have had to spend about half of my life as a blueberry because of a mess-up that YOU made just before I was born, and now I will have to find 'the one' before I can be normal 24/7?! Are you kidding me?!" She pointed sharply at her parents as she said "YOU" and made air quotes with her fingers as she said "the one", as if the latter was sarcasm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down!" Sam ordered. "First of all, please don't drag your mother into this. She was doing nothing more than riding shotgun. Secondly, while it is true that I triggered the witch's temper, this was truly her fault. Anyone can tell that what she did was an overreaction. If you're going to be mad at somebody, be mad at her. Heck, I've had fourteen years to recover, and I'm still mad at her. Thirdly, the presumption that you will be normal full-time after your kiss was mere speculation, but your mother and I think that that will be the most likely thing to happen."

Violet scoffed. "Well, I guess now that I may as well ask Jared in my history class if we can make it official. Or maybe Patrick on my bus. I barely know them, but they're both pretty cute."

Scarlett glanced at Sam, as if to say, You see? I told you that she would want to go date-crazy!

Their hearts heavy, Scarlett broke the other bit of news. "Well, sadly, honey, we don't think that that will work. After all, soulmates love each other mutually. If Jared or Patrick or whoever else—heck, I don't even know who they are—didn't share feelings for you, then trying to make out with them in order to stop inflating not only will not work, but it will drive them away. Then you will have lost a potential friend, too. You can be friends without being boyfriend and girlfriend, you know. But we had something else to tell you, too. As you also know, ever since this past month, you have started to outgrow your bed, and failing to get into your room in time has meant that you couldn't fit in at all."

Violet groaned again. "MORE obvious stuff?!"

"PLEASE let us finish, Violet!" Scarlett's patience was starting to be tried ever so slightly. "When your father was watching the brief morning airing of the news last week—you had just left for the bus stop—he saw a commercial for Willy Wonka's newest candy bar. A montage of his existing products flashed on the screen, and it occurred to both of us that, being the magician whom he is, he might be able to help us out and make accommodations that will suit you. We had our doubts, since he has been hidden for years, but we felt it worth a shot to write him anyway.

"Well, we heard back from him just this afternoon. Unfortunately, he was unable to make accommodations directly, but he offered for you to move into the factory for however long we may need to take the offer. He has a house built into the far corner of the building, where he said that you would be lodging until you…you know…didn't need the extra space anymore."

Violet gave her parents a long, suspicious look, giving her gum a good snap. "Are you telling me that you plan to have me sent off to old Mr. Wonka's in an arranged marriage to have my curse broken?! Go back to the sixteenth century!"

"No, honey, it's not like that!" Sam negated defensively. "Goodness, we're not trying forcibly to marry you off to a much older individual! That would be barbaric! What he has offered is to provide a living space that would suit you better than this house could for the time being. Believe me, we're not thrilled about this at all, but we needed extra assistance." As if to serve as a visual cue, Sam glanced over at Violet's mattress, which was now beginning to sag noticeably in the middle.

"We will call and write as often as possible. The move won't be today, of course, or even this week, so if you'd like, when we make final plans for heading out to London, you may hold a huge group party with as many friends and family members as you'd like as a sort of temporary goodbye. You'll also attend school at a regular, run-of-the-mill school in the area, so you won't be cooped up in the factory," Scarlett assured, although she really wasn't sure if this was a comfort at all.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Sweetie, we honestly had no clue that Mr. Wonka would respond how he did. At first, we kept this contacting incident from you because we thought that he merely was going to accept or decline help within this house, and we didn't want to get you too excited about, say, a wider doorframe in case it turned out that he couldn't help after all. I'm sorry."

"If we could move in with you, we would," Sam assured. "Unfortunately, your mother and I have too many things to do here to be able to tag along."

"No, you're lying!" Violet spat out irately. "You just want me gone because I'm now a nocturnal embarrassment, I bet! You didn't even contact Mr. Wonka at all; you're lying!"

"Scarlett?" Sam signaled vocally, gesturing opening a letter. Fortunately, she had it tucked next to her in the bean bag chair, the fancy envelope included. She passed the envelope and letter to Sam, who passed them to Violet. "See for yourself."

Violet snatched the envelope, looking it over. Willy Wonka was indeed known for wearing a purple waistcoat (the shade of which matched the envelope exactly) prior to his disappearance, and the solid gold seal in the shape of a W in his company's font looked quite genuine. Additionally, the mailing and return addresses definitely were not in either of her parents' handwriting. Nervously, she took out and unfolded the letter, reading over it very carefully. Sure enough, everything that her parents claimed to have read from him was typed in there.

She quickly tossed back them both. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

"I appreciate the apology," Sam said sternly. He and Scarlett got up and started to put both of their seats back where they found them in the room. "We'll make negotiations later about when this should take place. We know that you have things scheduled for school, so we will take those into consideration prior to arranging your transfer."

Violet had turned back fully to the English essay on the typewriter, not even bothering to answer further. She hit each key very hard, and a few seconds later, when the "Ding!" signaling the end of the line sounded, she shoved the typebar back to the left instead of sliding it gently. She was also chewing twice as fast as before. Sam and Scarlett felt it best to leave without any further words.

As they exited the room and closed the door behind them, Sam exhaustedly remarked, "I think we just spoiled her entire afternoon."

...

Sam and Scarlett, feeling guiltily nervous, were soon back at the household's other typewriter, reluctantly composing their answer to Willy Wonka's proposal.

To the office of Mr. Willy Wonka,

After some deliberation, we have decided to have our daughter move into the factory, per your suggestion. Sadly, we will not be able to join her. We have concerns such as jobs, meetings, and debt payments that would be complicated if we just left the house unoccupied, even if it was only temporarily. Violet is not happy about this, but we truly have no other choice. Fortunately, long-distance communication still will be open to us, even if it will be hard.

As you likely know, school has recently started in the United States. (As of this letter, it is late August, and Violet has been in school for nearly two weeks now.) Of course, this means that she has schoolwork and tests with which to contend right now, so in order to decide on an exact moving date, we will need to wait until it will be as unburdening as possible to make the school transfer. We are hoping that her workload will have eased up by the middle of September, if we will strike lucky.

We will be sure to update you on any changes to our decision or situation.

Sincerely,

Mr. and Mrs. Beauregarde