You think you could really go for some tea.
Nothing extravagant – you’d just like a simple cup of tea. Something to take you somewhere you already miss, somewhere you’ve left too suddenly, somewhere you need.
It’s the simplest desires that turn you mad.
You know, because you’ve been here before. You think, you’ve been dead before.
There wasn’t tea in Azkaban, either.
There – you can see the veil, fluttering. Just through it, on the other side, back there
, you think you can see a cup of tea.
The steam flutters the way the veil does – impossibly.
It’s the simplest desires.