It can be the most wondrous of escapes.
/
Harry sat at the piano, playing one of the set pieces for a competition he was to compete in in three weeks. It was a relatively simple piece—Bach's Minuet in G Major.
He had been playing for roughly six months, and Miss Lissa had finally said that he was ready to join a competition. She was running him through his paces, however, keeping him after school for an hour or more sometimes in preparation for the competition. When he had asked her if it was really alright, she had just laughed and brushed it off, saying that she was happy to teach him.
His life at the Dursleys had gotten better; ever since Miss Lissa had started teaching him piano, Aunt Petunia had been giving him more food—he'd actually gotten a piece of toast with jam on it, the other day!—and he had been punished less for things that before had been major infractions, such as singeing the bacon a bit.
Not only that, but Aunt Petunia had actually installed a light bulb in his cupboard so that he could read the sheet music Miss Lissa gave him!
Harry felt his face tighten as one of his fingers slipped, hitting an F natural where he was supposed to play an F sharp, but he ploughed on; Miss Lissa had told him that he was practicing performing the piece right now, so he couldn't stop and go back to correct his mistake. All he could do was to grit his teeth, mark where he made the mistake, and keep going.
It was really hard, Harry thought, to do that. He instinctively wanted to go back and correct it, to make it clear that it was a mistake, but he couldn't do that.
It was like Miss Lissa had told him: "Don't stop. Even if you make a mistake, don't stop. Keep smiling, and don't stop. The only people who are going to know, are you, me, and the Judges. And maybe a few people in the audience who know a bit about the pieces. Don't stop."
And it made sense—keep going, pretend it never happened, and most people won't even notice it did.
When they finally stopped, Harry's hands ached horribly, and Miss Lissa walked him through some exercises to help with the ache. She smiled down at him, and sent him on his way.
Harry nearly skipped all the way back to Number 4, exuberant.
He wouldn't give this up, not for all the world.