It is the soaring heights of joy…
/
Harry grinned as he sat tiredly on a bench outside of the concert hall. He was waiting for the results to be posted, relaxing and hoping for the best. His jacket was laid neatly beside him, and he leaned back as Miss Lissa sat down beside him, smiling broadly at him.
"You did wonderfully, Harry!" she congratulated him. He grinned bashfully back at her.
"Thanks, Miss Lissa!" he said, ducking his head to hide his reddening cheeks.
He thought back to when he had been on stage: it had all come so easily, the notes had spilled from his fingers, flowing out and away like water, and he had been lost in the music, unaware of the crowd and feeling so…connected with everything.
It was like someone had reached out and taken his heart and mind and opened them up, letting him feel everything around him.
He wasn't sure he really had the words to describe it, and when he told Miss Lissa, she had merely smiled down at him and said, "I know what you mean, Harry. I know what you mean."
They just sat there for a while, quietly enjoying each other's company, before a voice sounded over the sound system.
"The results for the first round are now posted. The results for the first round are now posted."
The voice was static-y, and resounded sharply against Harry's ears, but he didn't care. He was up in a moment, and immediately moved towards the board where the results had been posted. He waited for the crowd around the slip of paper to clear before he stepped up to it, and looked for his name.
"What's the news?" Miss Lissa asked, standing beside him.
He grinned up at her, feeling so light and happy and everything seemed brighter all of a sudden.
"I made it to the second round!"