Harry sat for a while, waiting until his emotions were completely settled before he began searching for clues.
He picked up his magic wand and waved it gently.
"Revelio!"
However, he found nothing; in the Phoenix Society's meeting room, there were no traces left by his old friends.
After a fruitless search in the Room of Requirement, Harry eventually had no choice but to give up.
He quietly slipped back to the Gryffindor dormitory and laid back down on his bed.
Ron on the opposite bed was still sound asleep, even smacking his lips, clearly dreaming of something delicious.
The next day, Harry slept until noon before getting up.
Not only he, but several of his dorm mates were the same.
"Good morning," Ron said with a smile to Harry.
"It's actually noon." Harry drew back the curtain and glanced outside.
Generally speaking, breakfast time was when young wizards received their parcels.
But because it was the weekend, young wizards liked to sleep in, so the owls delivered at noon.
An owl flew in through the door, striking a parcel accurately into Neville's lap.
"Ouch!" Neville grunted, "Carol! You're always like this!"
He complained, tore open the package, and took out a glass ball the size of half a fist, seemingly filled with white smoke inside.
"Look, it's a Memory Ball," Seamus said with a chuckle.
"Yeah, a Memory Ball," Neville said with a bitter little face, "Gran knows I'm always forgetful—it tells you if there's something you forgot to do—see, you hold it tightly like this, if it turns red—oh!"
Neville's face fell immediately, as the Memory Ball turned a bright red, "—you've forgotten something."
He desperately tried to remember what he had forgotten, and just then, Draco walked past the Gryffindor table and snatched the Memory Ball from Neville's hand.
"Malfoy!" Harry, already in a bad mood, stood up: "Give Neville back the Memory Ball."
"Why?" Draco weighed the Memory Ball in his hand, "This little fatso is so dumb that even a Memory Ball can't help him remember he hasn't worn his school robes."
"Oh, right!" Neville suddenly realized, "I forgot my robes!"
Draco sneered and put the Memory Ball on the table.
"Remember to use your fat butt to think next time, Longbottom," he said sinisterly, "For people like you to exist, it's really..."
He suddenly stopped talking because Professor McGonagall, with her cat-like senses, appeared beside them.
"What's going on?" Professor McGonagall asked sternly.
"Malfoy took my Memory Ball, Professor," Neville answered, "Harry and Ron were urging him to return it to me."
Draco raised his eyebrows challengingly at Harry and Ron, then turned and left the Gryffindor table.
An already bad-tempered Harry felt even angrier after this encounter.
He now had an urge to give Draco a mind reading on his pale, thin face.
Partly to give Draco a small reprimand, and partly to see if there were any memories related to Cassandra.
"Well done, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall's stern face showed a slight smile.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry and Ron said obediently together.
After Tuesday's History of Magic class, it was time for Flying Class.
After the boring class, the ensuing relaxing and pleasant Flying Class always lightened people's mood.
Even the drowsiness caused by Professor Bin's hypnosis-like speech vanished instantly.
Flying Class was a joint class for Gryffindor and Slytherin, and due to Professor Bin's forgetting to end the class, Gryffindor students were almost late.
The Slytherin students were already waiting there, looking a bit impatient, and twenty Flying Brooms were neatly lined up on the ground.
"These brooms are quite old," Ron said to Harry, "I've heard they've been used for young wizards since Bill was in school and haven't been replaced yet. Fred always complains that when they fly too high, some broomsticks shiver, and others aren't responsive."
"They do need to be replaced then," Harry replied casually.
Unlike Ron's anticipation, Neville and Hermione were both very nervous.
Hermione kept muttering about a library book called "Quidditch Origins" in an attempt to dispel her fear of flying with profound theoretical knowledge, while Neville clung tightly to Hermione, listening to her rapid-fire recitations of basic knowledge as if he'd found his anchor.
Before long, Madam Hooqi arrived at the training ground, her short gray hair and keen yellow eyes like an eagle's.
"Alright, what are you all waiting for?" she said loudly, "Everyone stand next to a Flying Broom, hurry, hurry, time is tight!"
Harry didn't know why she was in such a hurry.
"Extend your right hand, place it over your broom handle," Madam Hooqi called from the front, "then say: 'Up!'
"Up!" everyone shouted.
With just a shout, the broom flew into Harry's hands, causing Hermione to turn back to look at him in astonishment, but her voice was nearly hoarse, and her broom didn't respond.
"Alright, when I blow the whistle, you kick off hard and leave the ground," Madam Hooqi said, "kick hard. Steady the broom, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly, and land vertically. Wait for my whistle—three—two—"
Before Madam Hooqi could blow the whistle, Harry saw Neville suddenly shoot straight up, soaring into the sky.
"Wow—" Draco exclaimed loudly, shading his eyes with his hand, watching Neville soar and then plummet to the ground with a thud.
It all happened in a flash; Harry didn't have time to pull out his magic wand, just pointing a finger at Neville, casting a cushioning charm.
But being young and with Neville so far away, he could only slightly alleviate the impact for him.
"Wrists broken," Madam Hooqi went over and got hold of Neville, "I'm taking this kid to the hospital wing immediately. No one moves any brooms back to their station, or else, before you can say 'Quidditch', you'll be thrown out of Hogwarts."
Once Madam Hooqi left, Draco picked up the Memory Ball on the ground.
"Isn't this Longbottom's Memory Ball?" Draco said with a snicker, "If that chubby remembered to squeeze this Memory Ball, maybe he would've remembered to land on his fat butt, not his wrist."
"Give it to me, Malfoy!" Harry stepped forward.
"No, I'm going to hide it so the little chub has to find it himself," Draco said mischievously, mounting a broom and floating up: "How about the rooftop?"
He hovered in mid-air, sneering: "What's the matter, Potter? Can't reach it?"
Without a word, Harry mounted his Flying Broom.
"Harry! You mustn't! Remember what Madam Hooqi just said! You'll get expelled!" Hermione hurriedly tried to stop Harry, "And you don't even know how to fly yet—"
But Harry had already mounted the broom, flying up with incredible proficiency.
Hermione gaped; she never expected Harry to fly so well on his 'first' time mounting a broom.
"That's so cool," Seamus admired from below.
"Give it to me, Malfoy," Harry said with a hard tone, "or I'll have to teach you a lesson."
As he spoke, his eyes were fixed on Draco's eyes, still debating in his mind whether or not to use mind reading on Draco.
"How about it, Potter?" Draco was tossing the Magic Ball, "Are you standing up for Longbottom?"
Harry was really furious, the powerlessness of not finding his old friends, and the anger towards Draco's annoying face combined.
He drew out his magic wand and aimed it at Draco.