Friday, 4th August

Harry arrived at the café twenty minutes early the following day. He hadn't slept well, his mind too consumed by plans and theories and all the possible ways this could go so terribly, horridly wrong.

As soon as the sun rose, so did he and he spent the morning rereading the notes he'd made on Dumbledore over the years, trying to remind himself that he wasn't going into this blindly, that he did know his opponent - if not personally, then at least by reputation.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Became Viscount Warwick at seventeen after his father's death. Currently the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry although he'd once been its Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and later its Transfiguration professor. Holds the Order of Merlin, First Class, for Grand Sorcery. Became the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot after the last war. Previously the unofficial leader of the Progressive Party and still outspoken about his pro-Muggle leanings. Believed by many to be one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived - divine and righteous and in-fucking-fallible.

Harry might not know the man, but at least he knew what to expect.

And so, as soon as it became a more respectable hour, he grabbed his new cloak and started to wander the streets of Diagon Alley, taking the long way down to Remus's café.

He wasn't the only one that had arrived there early.

Sirius was sitting in the same place as yesterday, fingers tapping a mindless rhythm on the table in front of him, his leg jittering up and down, and four… five… six empty mugs in front of him.

Slowly closing the door behind him, Harry gave his godfather a curious look.

"Have you, uh… been here long?"

"No" Sirius replied immediately.

"Yes" Remus corrected, giving his partner a knowing look, "And he's already had almost two litres of coffee, so please feel free to ignore whatever comes out of his mouth".

"Uh, rude!" he protested, "And I only had, like, one and a half litres of coffee and that was because you refused to let me drink firewhiskey!"

"It's nine o'clock in the morning!"

"I have feelings!"

Remus rolled his eyes at him before standing up and turning back to Harry.

"Thank Merlin you're here, pup... Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Have you had breakfast yet? You probably haven't had breakfast yet. I can make you breakfast-"

"I actually already ate" he interrupted carefully, "But thanks, anyway. What time is Dumbledore going to be here?"

"I'll put on a pot of tea anyway - and he shouldn't be too long now" Remus called back over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen, "We're lucky it isn't term time or he wouldn't have been able to make it at all".

"More's the pity" Harry muttered, pulling out the chair opposite his godfather who gave him a confused, curious look for the remark but didn't comment on it, "How much did you tell him?"

"Not much" Sirius replied, draining the last of his seventh cup which, now that he thought about it, was probably well over half of the café's mug collection, "I guessed you'd want to keep your return quiet for as long as you can so I only said that Moony and I needed to meet him as soon as possible. I was probably being too paranoid by not telling him the truth but… oh well. Better safe than sorry, yeah?"

"Definitely" he agreed, although his mind had stalled on the man's nickname for his partner because now, knowing what he did… "Wait. Do you call him Moony because… because he's a werewolf?"

Sirius grinned and all but threw himself halfway across the table as if to tell him some grand, great secret.

"Fitting, right? We all had nicknames - your dad included. Remus was Moony, that traitorous rat was Wormtail, James was Prongs, and I was Padfoot. Called ourselves the Marauders".

Harry snorted. "Subtle. So Pads is short for Padfoot, then? But you're not a werewolf, so where did that nickname come from?"

His grin, if possible, widened even further, his grey eyes almost silver with their mischievous glint. Sirius opened his mouth to reply before suddenly stilling. A split second later, his gaze snapped to the side just as Harry heard it too - the tell-tale whoosh of the Floo being activated.

Dumbledore.

Although Sirius stayed sitting, Harry got to his feet. He still hadn't decided on how to greet the man, or how much he would tell him of the past few years. The thought had kept him awake half the night but didn't appear to have an easy solution, which meant that now he felt… tense. Uneasy. Jittery, even - similar to his godfather after seven cups of coffee, it would seem.

"Albus! You're early!" he heard Remus exclaim.

"Sirius's letter sounded urgent; I did not wish to waste any more time, my boy. Has something happened?"

"You… could say that. Perhaps it's best if I just… show you".

Harry braced himself. He heard two sets of footsteps approach, one slower than the other, and then suddenly, there he was, the great Albus Dumbledore, his expression concerned but composed. As he stepped into the room, brushing off the soot from his robes, he glanced up, a greeting for Sirius no doubt on the tip of his tongue and then-

And then he saw Harry.

To be fair to the old man, his advanced years hadn't impacted his instincts at all, and in one swift motion, he'd pulled out his wand and cast a Stunning spell. The red burst of light shot towards Harry, but his own reflexes were nearly just as impressive, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he'd cast the Shield charm, deflecting the spell effortlessly.

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock and the boy stared back at him, raising a solitary eyebrow and giving the man a terribly unimpressed look - duelling one of the greatest wizards to ever live had not been on his bingo card for today.

Before the Headmaster could react further, Sirius and Remus lunged in between them, both wearing matching expressions of surprise and outrage.

"Albus, stop! It's Harry!"

"He's not an imposter! We know it's him!"

Harry, for his part, felt a grim sense of satisfaction. He had been debating how to treat Dumbledore - politely and formally as the Viscount he was, or coldly and indifferently for being the bane of his entire fucking existence. The Headmaster had left him with the Dursleys, after all, never checked on him, kept the truth about his heritage a secret, lied about his whereabouts, failed to find him… The list of Dumbledore's transgressions was long, and now, after that little attack of his, Harry had an even more valid excuse not to hold his tongue.

The old man's eyes flicked between Sirius, Remus, and the boy half-hidden behind them, suspicion and wariness etched deeply into his features.

"Impossible. You must know that an imposter would target you both" he said, quietly yet firmly, "They would target those closest to Harry, appealing to your emotional sides".

Sirius's expression hardened. "We know it's him, Albus. This isn't a trick!"

"But how are you so certain? Forgive me for saying this, my boy, but you would be very very easy to fool in this regard because it's what you so desperately wish for".

Before his godfather could reply, Harry stepped forward. "I can make a Vow if you like, if that will settle your doubts-"

"No, Harry" Sirius cut him off sharply, his steely gaze still on Dumbledore, "You don't have to prove anything to him. If the Headmaster doesn't believe us, then that's his problem… We invited you here as a courtesy, Albus, but we are under no obligation to make you a part of Harry's life".

The silence that followed was heavy and thick with tension. Dumbledore studied Sirius closely for a moment, before doing the same to Remus who looked just as unwavering and determined. After another minute, he slowly nodded and reholstered his wand.

"I see" he said, softly, "Well then, if you both vouch for him, then I must trust your judgement… Hello, Harry".

"Headmaster" he returned cooly, because if the old man wasn't going to call him Lord Gloucester then he sure as hell wasn't going to call him Lord Warwick.

Sirius stepped away from Dumbledore to stand by his godson's side instead, placing a protective hand on his shoulder and something warm and satisfied unfurled in his stomach at the simple action.

Glancing between them all, Remus forced a tight smile and then turned back to the kitchen. "How about I finish making that tea?"

The three of them sat down at the middle table, Dumbledore pulling up a fourth chair while Remus briefly disappeared back into the kitchen. The tense silence from before had returned, although this time it appeared to be caused by Sirius's defensiveness rather than the fear that a wand was going to be drawn at any moment.

Dumbledore was staring at Harry in a… strange way. It wasn't with suspicion - he genuinely did seem to take his godfathers' word that he was who he said he was. Instead, he looked almost… cautious, like he was expecting him to freak out or break down or even start crying at any moment.

Harry wondered just how much of his life at the Dursleys the man knew about.

He had spoken to them after he didn't reply to his Hogwarts letter, after all, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume that a wizard as intelligent and as powerful as the Headmaster would have figured out - if not outright been told - about the cupboard and the beatings and the chores and the starvation and-

The worst part was, Harry couldn't even ask him what he knew since, best case scenario, the man would take that as an invitation to talk to him about it, and worst case scenario, the man would pretend not to know anything only to get Harry to tell him himself. Either way, he would lose.

So instead, he decided to stay silent on the matter and hoped that, as time went on, the Headmaster would stop seeing him as a scared, abused child, and let the topic of the Dursleys drop completely.

Let sleeping dogs lie, and all that - or, well, sleeping lions, in this case.

"Here we are then" Remus said, just a bit too cheerfully as he returned to the front of the café with four tea cups balanced somewhat precariously on a tray, "Biscuits, anyone?"

They all shook their heads.

Harry watched as Remus added a splash of milk into his own cup. Sirius took it black like he had taken his coffee, and Dumbledore scooped a truly terrifying amount of sugar into his cup. Well. At least Harry now had a fool-proof method of murder if it ever came down to that - cyanide powder looked oh so similar, after all, and who would ever check for a muggle murder weapon?

He took a sip from his own tea - heavy on the milk but with only a pinch of sugar - and waited for someone to speak. Unsurprisingly, it was the Headmaster who broke the silence.

"It is... truly remarkable to see you, Harry" Dumbledore began, "I have spent many years searching for you. Your disappearance was... most troubling".

Troubling. As though he'd chosen it. Harry's jaw tightened. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but it still rankled that Dumbledore was treating him like a runaway child finally found. He was supposed to be one of the greatest wizards to ever live - if he'd truly searched for him, he'd have found him.

"When you didn't respond to your Hogwarts letter, I grew worried-"

"Did you?" Harry cut in, "That's funny. You didn't seem worried at any time during the ten years previous".

Dumbledore slowly stirred his overly sweetened tea, his blue eyes fixed on him as though trying to unravel a particularly difficult puzzle. The boy could feel Sirius bristling beside him, his posture rigid, but who his annoyance was directed at, he wasn't sure. Even Remus, normally calm and composed, seemed to be watching the exchange with bated breath, as though ready to step in if things turned sour again.

"... I should have" the Headmaster finally replied, "I can see that now, of course - hindsight truly is a cruel mistress. I should have checked on you, my boy, and I deeply regret the fact that I did not".

Oh, well, in that case!

Although… There was something in the back of his mind starting to itch - something that Harry never thought about before, but now that he was… There was one thing in particular that no longer made sense to him.

"What did you do when I didn't reply to the letter?" he asked curiously, because surely he was wrong, surely the man hadn't been that stupid.

"I sent a trusted friend to collect you from your relatives' house; a staff member at Hogwarts who could give you your letter personally, and when he realised that you were… no longer living there, I paid a visit to the Dursleys myself" Dumbledore explained, "I must admit, my boy, I never expected your aunt to have… made the decisions that she did".

Your aunt. Not "your uncle" or "your relatives" but "your aunt". Had this complete and utter fool truly…?

"You mean leaving me at a young offenders institute and forging my papers so that they could forget I ever even existed?"

Next to him, Sirius jerked. "Wait, what?!"

Remus's gaze had sharpened as well. "A young offenders institute? I thought it was a boarding school?!"

"It was. Sort of. For me, at least, since I've lived there twenty-four-seven for the past four years" Harry said, "But if you'd truly searched for me, Headmaster, then you would have already known that".

Dumbledore looked beyond confused, his brows furrowed, his fingers tightening around his cup as he thought.

"... I'm afraid I don't quite understand, my boy".

"Of course you don't. Tell me, what exactly did you ask Petunia?"

"I… well, I asked her where you were, of course!"

"And when she inevitably refused to answer?"

The old man blushed ever-so-slightly. "I'm not proud of this, my boy, but I will admit that I used... a form of mind reading on her in an attempt to learn where she had brought you".

Harry could feel his anger starting to boil over but he kept a firm clamp down on those furious, rolling, broiling emotions because hey, would you look at that? The great Albus Dumbledore really was that stupid!

"And what did you find?"

"... I saw her last memory of you" he said, quietly, "I saw a small, skinny boy with clothes far too big for his frame... I saw your father's hair and your mother's eyes... I saw your face, your fear, as your uncle said he planned to get rid of you".

Across from him, Remus flinched, and Sirius's expression darkened to something dangerous. Harry, on the other hand, almost laughed, the bitterness rising in his throat as he put down his cup with a clatter and leaned closer to the old man.

"And tell me something, sir". His voice was sharp, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. "Did you ever question him?"

Silence.

"You know" Harry continued, green eyes sparking, "The man who actually got rid of me? You questioned Petunia, who had nothing to do with it, but you didn't stick around long enough to question him as well? The only person who did have even the vaguest idea of where I was?!"

Dumbledore had paled drastically, his cup hitting the table with an angry thud, tea sloshing over the edge and staining the wood. Sirius, who had already been gripping the table so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, now looked positively livid.

"You didn't even question his uncle?" His voice was a mere whisper but it pierced the very air around them. "How could you not have questioned his fucking uncle?!"

Dumbledore, to his credit, didn't immediately try to defend himself. He looked at the three of them for a moment instead, his gaze pausing on Harry for the longest. When he spoke, it was with a quiet, remorseful tone, but it did nothing to ease the building tension in the room.

"I… made an assumption" he murmured, "When I used Legilimency on Petunia, her fear and desperation were… overwhelming. She truly believed that Vernon had left Harry in the middle of nowhere - abandoned him at the side of the road far, far away from Surrey. I believed that to be the truth rather than an erroneous theory on her behalf... I didn't question Vernon Dursley because I assumed that he had no idea himself as to where he left the boy".

"You assumed?" Sirius's voice cracked as he suddenly leapt to his feet, fists trembling at his sides. "You made an assumption? You believed the twisted words of that vile woman over actually doing the bare fucking minimum and double-checking?!"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but Remus was faster. His calm facade was gone, replaced with pure and utter fury that simmered just below the surface, his eyes a deadly rich molten gold.

"Albus, whether you thought Vernon knew or not, you still should've asked him! You were too proud, too arrogant, too- too bloody sure that you were right to question it further, and because of that, you didn't follow the one lead that could've led us straight to Harry!"

Dumbledore blinked, his composure cracking under the growing tension. "I see that now. In hindsight-"

"Hindsight?!" Sirius exploded, his voice booming around the small café, his magic lashing out and making the mugs rattle, "For Merlin's sake, this isn't about hindsight! This was common sense! You left him to rot in a- a fucking prison for years! While you sat in that damned castle on your golden throne, Harry was left there, abandoned, suffering, and you just-"

His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, shaking with barely contained rage.

"... You know, when Harry said that he wasn't sure if he could trust you to have his best interests in mind, I defended you. But now… now I'm starting to see where he was coming from".

"You failed him, Albus" Remus said quietly, his eyes burning, "You failed all of us".

For a long moment, the only sound was Sirius's heavy breathing. Dumbledore, looking impossibly old, kept his gaze on the table, the lines of his face deeper than they'd ever seemed before. The weight of guilt pressed down on him visibly, but Harry wasn't ready to offer him any relief from it.

"Actually, you didn't fail" he said, his voice steady but cold, "Because you never even tried".

The Headmaster flinched. The shame in his expression was unmistakable but he knew that he had no real defence, nothing to say that would justify his actions, nothing to do that could ever make it right again.

Dumbledore let the silence stretch out, the weight of his mistakes, his hubris pressing down on the room like a suffocating blanket. His hands, once steady and graceful, trembled ever so slightly as he finally spoke, his voice raw and laden with regret.

"You're right, Harry. I didn't try hard enough. I failed you, and for that, I offer no excuses. Only my deepest apologies". He looked up, blue eyes dulled with the burden of his mistakes. "I hope that, in time, you might find it in your heart to forgive me, though I know that is not something I deserve at this moment".

Harry studied the man before him - this wizard so revered, so powerful, yet so utterly human in his fallibility. Forgive him? No, not yet. Maybe not ever. But making an enemy out of Albus Dumbledore, one of the most influential figures in the wizarding world, wasn't a luxury he could afford right now either.

"I… appreciate your apology" he finally said, "But I'm not going to forgive you just like that. This isn't a wrongly graded essay or- or a spilt potion, Headmaster; this is my life! A life that I've already missed out on because of you and your mistakes!"

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I understand, my boy. I will not presume to have earned your forgiveness so easily, but perhaps, in time, I can make amends".

Remus shifted across from him, his jaw clenched, anger still simmering just beneath the surface. Sirius stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his posture rigid. Both men were still furious, but they had also said their piece - for now.

"Your… sudden appearance does complicate things" Dumbledore continued carefully, "I am incredibly grateful to see you alive and well and in our lives once more, but I hope that you can also appreciate that your return will need a… delicate touch".

"Because I'm the Boy Who bloody Lived?" Surprise briefly flashed across his face and Harry couldn't help but smirk. "I'm not a lost, scared child, Headmaster, and I'm not a fool either. I already know far more about the wizarding world and my place in it than you could ever expect".

"... I see". He looked rather thrown. "Well, in that case, let me cut straight to the point - Lord Voldemort isn't dead".

Harry raised an eyebrow, though he had some sense of where this was going.

"I do not wish to burden you, my boy, but it would be remiss of me not to inform you of recent… developments in our world. It is widely believed that on the fateful night he attacked you and your parents, you somehow managed to vanquish him… It pains me to say it, but I fear that he's back".

Dumbledore glanced up at him as if expecting a reaction. Harry didn't give him one.

"... What do you know about Lord Voldemort, Harry?"

"Enough" he replied evasively.

"And of Wizengamot? Peerage titles? You are set to inherit one yourself if I'm not mistaken".

He was - and three more besides, but Harry wasn't going to tell him that.

"I've read a few books on the subject" he said instead, keeping his answers vague, "But what does this have to do with Voldemort's return?"

The old man seemed pleased that he'd used the Dark Lord's "real" name and Harry was beyond grateful that Rowle had once told him that most of the wizarding world referred to him as You-Know-Who rather than the Dark Lord which he'd grown accustomed to saying.

"Because he has returned in the form of a young man" Dumbledore explained, "Lord Thomas Slytherin".

Oh. Now wasn't that interesting? Just how on earth did Albus Dumbledore know the truth about him?

"You believe that Lord Slytherin is actually Lord Voldemort?"

"I know it". Dumbledore's gaze was distant, glazed over with old memories. "Unfortunately, however, proving that thus far has been… a challenge".

The Dark Lord had covered his tracks well then.

"But if there's no evidence then how do you know for certain?" he pressed, leaning forward in his seat and only half paying attention as Sirius finally retook his, the cups of tea in front of them all long since gone cold.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to take my word for it, my boy, but rest assured - there is absolutely no doubt in my mind as to Lord Slytherin's true identity".

"Alright, well, far be it for me to defend the great-great-whatever of Salazar Slytherin himself, but from what I've heard, the man hasn't put a foot out of line yet" he said slowly, "In fact, he seems to even have a few good ideas that Wizengamot would be fools not to listen to - and that doesn't sound a whole lot like Voldemort to me".

It wasn't a lie. Voldemort or not, Lord Slytherin hadn't done a single suspicious thing since appearing on the scene - at least, nothing that they knew of, anyway.

Harry could see Sirius and Remus consider his words, even as Dumbledore looked more than a little bit miffed, and he couldn't help but feel amused; especially since Rowle had already told him exactly who Lord Slytherin really was whereas Dumbledore seemed to just be working off of a hunch.

"I'm just saying, he seems like a smart bloke and not at all murderous" he finished, sitting back with a shrug, "And besides, even if he is Lord Voldemort, what's that got to do with me?"

The headmaster looked oddly… conflicted, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. After a moment or two, he seemed to make his decision and he steepled his fingers beneath his chin as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Harry, many years ago, during Voldemort's first reign, I founded an organisation called the Order of the-"

"Albus!"

"Don't you dare!"

Harry flinched back, startled, as both Sirius and Remus snapped at the man, matching looks of fury and disbelief on their faces.

"The boy deserves to know-"

"That boy is only fifteen years old, for Merlin's sake!"

"Are you honestly going to sit there and tell us you're justified in trying to- to recruit him?!"

And-

Huh.

Now that right there was a lot to unpack, wasn't it?

Harry felt oddly touched that they knew how old he was, especially since his birthday had only been a few days before, but he was even more touched by the fact that they seemed to care about his safety, given that they didn't want Dumbledore to initiate him into this Order of whatever.

It would have been nice to have had that same care while he was being shoved down the stairs and forced into a cupboard at the Dursleys, and even nicer still to have been rescued from the hellhole that was a secure boy's home for young offenders, but given that he'd been enrolled there under a different name and they didn't have the first clue where to look - or that he was even still alive - he decided to let it slide.

"He is as involved in this war as any of us" Dumbledore replied, "Perhaps even more so. I understand your reservations about telling him-"

"Do you?" Sirius interrupted sharply, "Because something tells me that if you truly did understand, Albus, then you wouldn't even consider saying those words to him! He is fifteen years old and he hasn't even been back in the wizarding world for two weeks! He doesn't have any Hogwarts education, he knows nobody outside of the three of us, and he sure as hell doesn't have enough information about this so-called war for you to decide his place in it for him!"

Harry blinked, surprised by his godfather's vehemence, and even Remus seemed caught off guard.

"We all know what happens to your child soldiers, Albus" he finished quietly, "And I refuse to allow you to manipulate Harry into being another one of your pawns. I already lost him once and I am not going to risk losing him again!"

Harry suddenly got the most ridiculous urge to cry.

It was the first time in living memory that someone had stuck up for him. The Dursleys had turned everyone against him over a decade ago and although he'd been friends with Rowle at St Brutus, there had always been this unspoken element of fighting your own battles there which had prevented the older boy from stepping in whenever Greg or Lawrence or the others attacked him.

Put simply, Harry was a survivor - he'd had to be, after all, given his upbringing - so for someone to stand up for him like this, for someone to try and protect him against a danger that he didn't even know of yet, it was… incomprehensible to him.

He'd made the right choice in seeking out his godfather. He just knew it.

"He does not have to join the Order" Dumbledore said quietly, "I would not ask that of him, not now. But Harry does need to understand the dangers and risks that he'll be facing once his return becomes public. There's no harm in knowing of the Order's existence and perhaps he might even learn a few things by sitting in on the occasional meeting… All I wish to do is to ensure his safety".

"Safety? Ensure his safety?!" Sirius spat, unable to keep his anger in check even as Remus quickly placed a hand on his arm to stop him from drawing his wand, "And just where was your concern for his safety before?!"

Dumbledore met his furious gaze for a moment but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Harry.

"I'm not attempting to control you" he said carefully, "But I do want you to be protected. Voldemort's reach is wide, now more so than ever, and since you've returned... you must be careful. I genuinely believe that the best place for you right now is at the Order headquarters in Grimmauld Place".

"My mother's house?! No bloody way!"

Harry ignored Sirius's outburst, although the man's remark had spiked his curiosity because if this Grimmauld Place had belonged to the Black family, then the library there must be… wow.

"It's the safest place we currently have" Dumbledore replied, calmly yet firmly, "Harry has… He has already been through enough, and I take much of the responsibility for that. Ensuring his safety is the least I can do right now. The house is heavily warded and charmed and there are Order members almost constantly going in and out. He'll be safe there".

He felt Sirius bristle beside him, his godfather clearly torn between his own desire to protect Harry and his new vendetta against Dumbledore. Grimmauld Place was safe, though, he couldn't deny that no matter how much he wanted to.

Harry didn't appreciate being treated like a defenceless child, needing to be locked up in a gilded cage, but it was the Black ancestral home and it did, presumably, have a truly spectacular library and he couldn't keep renting rooms in shady Knockturn inns for the rest of his life so…

"I think it's a good idea" he said, surprising them, "For now, at least. It's definitely not a permanent solution and I will leave if I want to, wards be damned… but it's a good temporary fix, isn't it?"

"It is" Remus replied slowly, his voice cautious as he glanced at his partner, waiting for his response.

Sirius, still fuming, shot Harry a look, his grey eyes filled with concern and anger, but also a hint of reluctant agreement. He didn't trust Dumbledore completely, not anymore, but he seemed to at least trust Harry to make his own decisions.

"... Alright, fine!" he finally snapped, "But it better be temporary, Albus! I'm trying to get the kid to like me, not scare him off with cursed bloody heirlooms!"

And just like that, the tension burst, and Harry snorted as Remus laughed and even Dumbledore gave a somewhat strained smile.

"Shall we meet back here tomorrow morning then?" he asked, "I presume you need time to adjust to all of this, my boy, but the sooner we get you somewhere safe, the better".

Yeah, Harry thought bitterly, the sooner you can keep me under watch, you mean.

"Sounds good to me" Remus said brightly, starting to gather their half-full cups of tea, "But for now, I think we could all do with a break".