Water had sounded good when he had requested it; now that he was faced with the prospect of actually swallowing it, he began to reconsider his request. Was dehydration really that bad? Surely he could survive a little longer without water...
He eyed the vial warily, not for lack of trust in Sirius or Hemingway, but for lack of faith in the exchange; would the relief he would get after drinking the potion be equivalent to the pain of actually getting it down? Debating with himself, he finally agreed to drink the potion, nodding his head slightly to show his consent.
Another moment passed as he realized he would have to move again, and he briefly reconsidered his decision before attempting to sit himself up by supporting his weight on his arms, the task of keeping his neck isolated more difficult than he expected it to be.