Legilimency

Harry sat where he was for a while. Only after his emotions had completely settled did he begin searching for clues.

He picked up his wand and gave it a gentle flick.

"Revelio!"

Yet he found nothing. There was no trace in the Order of the Phoenix meeting room of his old friends having been there.

After searching the Room of Requirement in vain, Harry could only give up in the end.

He quietly slipped back into the Gryffindor dormitory and lay down on his bed again.

Ron was still sleeping soundly in the bed opposite, even smacking his lips. He had clearly dreamed of something delicious.

The next day, Harry did not get up until noon.

It was not just him. The other boys in the dormitory were the same.

"Good morning." Ron grinned at Harry.

"It's noon now." Harry pulled open the curtains and glanced outside.

Normally, breakfast was when the young wizards received their packages.

But since it was the weekend and everyone liked to sleep in, the owls made their deliveries at noon instead.

An owl swooped in through the doorway and accurately dropped a package right into Neville's arms.

"Ow!" Neville let out a muffled groan. "Carol! You always do this!"

After grumbling, he opened the package and took out a glass ball about half the size of a fist, seemingly filled with white smoke.

"Look, it's a Memory Ball," Seamus said cheerfully.

"Yeah, a Memory Ball." Neville pulled a miserable face. "Grandmother knows I'm always forgetting things—it tells you whether there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tightly like this, and if it turns red—oh!"

Neville's face immediately fell as the Memory Ball suddenly glowed bright red. "—that means you've forgotten something."

He desperately tried to remember what he had forgotten when Draco passed by the Gryffindor table and abruptly snatched the Memory Ball from Neville's hand.

"Malfoy!" Harry had already been in a bad mood. He rose to his feet. "Give Neville back his Memory Ball."

"Why?" Draco weighed the Memory Ball in his hand. "This fatty is so stupid that even a Memory Ball can't help him remember that he forgot to wear his school robes."

"Oh, right!" Neville suddenly realized. "I forgot to wear my robes!"

Draco sneered and slammed the Memory Ball onto the table.

"Next time, try thinking properly with that fat arse of yours, Longbottom." His face darkened. "The fact that someone like you exists is really..."

He suddenly fell silent, because Professor McGonagall, possessed of cat-like senses, had appeared beside them.

"What is going on?" Professor McGonagall asked sternly.

"Malfoy took my Memory Ball, Professor," Neville answered. "Harry and Ron were making him give it back."

Draco raised his brows provocatively at Harry and Ron, then turned and left the Gryffindor Long Table.

Harry, whose mood had already been terrible, felt even more furious after that.

He suddenly had the urge to fire a Legilimency spell at Draco's pale, gaunt face.

On one hand, it would serve as a small punishment for Draco. On the other, he could take the opportunity to see whether Draco had any memories concerning Cassandra.

"Well done, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley." A faint smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's prim face.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry and Ron said obediently together.

After History of Magic on Tuesday came Flying Lesson.

After such a dull and tedious class, a relaxing Flying Lesson was always enough to lift one's spirits.

Even the drowsiness caused by Professor Binns's hypnotic voice vanished in an instant.

Flying Lesson was a joint class for Gryffindor and Slytherin. Because Professor Binns had forgotten to dismiss them, the Gryffindor students nearly arrived late.

The Slytherin students had already been waiting there for some time and looked rather impatient. Twenty Flying Broomsticks lay neatly arranged on the ground.

"These brooms have been around for ages," Ron said to Harry. "I heard they were already in use for young wizards when Bill was at school, and they've never been replaced. Fred always complains that they shudder whenever they fly too high, while some of them can barely turn."

"They really should replace them," Harry replied casually.

Unlike Ron, who was full of anticipation, Neville and Hermione were both incredibly nervous.

Hermione kept muttering passages from a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages, trying to use lofty theoretical knowledge to drive away her fear of flying. Neville seemed to have found his anchor and stayed close behind Hermione, listening as she rattled off basic knowledge like a machine gun.

Before long, Madam Hooch arrived at the training grounds. She had short gray hair and bright yellow eyes, as sharp and lively as an eagle's.

"All right, what are you all waiting for?" she shouted. "Everyone stand beside a Flying Broomstick. Hurry up, hurry up, make it quick!"

Harry had no idea what she was in such a rush about.

"Stretch out your right hand over the broom handle," Madam Hooch called from the front, "then say, 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harry only said it once before the broom jumped into his hand. Hermione turned back to stare at him in astonishment, while her own voice was nearly hoarse from shouting and her broom still gave no response.

"All right, when I blow my whistle, push off with both legs and leave the ground. Push hard," Madam Hooch said. "Hold the broom tight, rise a few feet, then lean forward slightly and come straight back down. Listen for my whistle—three—two—"

Before Madam Hooch could blow the whistle, Harry saw Neville shoot up with a whoosh, soaring straight into the sky.

"Woooow—" Draco let out a loud exclamation. Shielding his eyes with one hand, he watched Neville fly high into the air before crashing to the ground with a thud.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Harry had no time to draw his wand. He merely pointed at Neville and cast a Slowing Charm.

But he was still young, and Neville was far too far away. He could only reduce the impact slightly.

"His wrist is broken." Madam Hooch hurried over and held Neville. "I'm taking this child to the Hospital Wing right now. None of you are to move! Put your Flying Broomsticks back where they were, or before you can even say 'Quidditch,' you'll be thrown out the gates of Hogwarts."

After Madam Hooch left, Draco picked up the Memory Ball from the ground.

"Isn't this Longbottom's Memory Ball?" Draco said with a strange laugh. "If that fat lump gave it a squeeze, maybe he'd remember to land on his fat arse instead of his wrist."

"Give it to me, Malfoy!" Harry stepped forward.

"No, I'm going to hide it and make that little fatty find it himself." Draco smugly mounted his broom and drifted lazily into the air. "How about the roof?"

Hovering in midair, he mocked, "What's wrong, Potter? Can't reach me?"

Without a word, Harry swung himself onto a Flying Broomstick.

"Harry! Absolutely not! Think about what Madam Hooch just said! You'll be expelled!" Hermione hurriedly tried to stop him. "Besides, you don't even know how to fly—"

But Harry had already mounted the broom and risen into the air with incredible skill.

Hermione stood there with her mouth open. She had never imagined that Harry could fly so well the very first time he got on a broom.

"That's so cool," Seamus praised from below.

"Give it to me, Malfoy." Harry's tone was hostile. "Or I'm going to teach you a harsh lesson."

As he spoke, his eyes stayed fixed on Draco's, while he still hesitated inwardly over whether to use Legilimency on him.

"What's this, Potter?" Draco tossed the magical ball in his hand. "Are you standing up for Longbottom?"

Harry was genuinely enraged. The helplessness of being unable to find his old friends and his fury at Draco's punchable face piled together.

He drew his wand and pointed it at Draco.