"Well, this certainly is a most peculiar development", the Headmaster muttered, with some sort of grimace that was probably meant to be a smile. Harry was not in the mood for joking around.
"What just happened?!" he demanded.
Dumbledore leaned back in the chair, taking slow breaths, eyes closed, his expression weary and pained. In a mournful, low voice, he said something that chilled Harry to the bone.
"Ronald… refuses to wake up."
Madame Pomfrey had clapped her hand over her mouth. Harry stood numb, his heart throbbing painfully in his ribcage… Suddenly a burst of indignant fury surged through him. Just what was Dumbledore implying?!
"Refuses to wake up, or did you fail and blame him?" he spat. The matron gave an outraged gasp but the old wizard smiled sadly. Harry's heart kept pounding. "What does it mean?"
The venerable wizard gave a weary sigh, and turned his head to take a look at Ron's closed eyes.
"He managed to push me out of his mind."
For a second, the last Potter waited for Dumbledore to jump out of his seat and scream "Psych!" but his elder was still gazing at the redhead with a sad expression. It slowly dawned on Harry that this wasn't a stupid joke or a practical exercise. The look on the Headmaster's face proved it.
"But… You are a master Legilimens!" Harry couldn't help but blurt out.
"I am very flattered by your trust in my abilities, Harry", Dumbledore said as his eyes twinkled a little. "Occlumency can however take many forms, and Ronald's method is… particularly effective."
Harry was dismayed. Ron, a master Occlumens? You could read Ron's mind more easily than a preschool book, because his every thought wrote itself on his body for the world to see. Pink ears meant embarrassment, crinkled long nose meant sarcastic comments were imminent, wide lopsided grin meant laughter to come… Ron wasn't complicated. He didn't keep secrets. He was open and honest and true.
And now Dumbledore was telling him that Ron, carefree and blunt and even insensitive Ron, could force an expert Legilimens out of his mind while being unconscious, but Harry had spent the better part of his fifth year failing at it even though he was perfectly awake?
"How is this possible?" he asked, feeling suddenly bitter. What kind of effective method was Ron using anyway? And couldn't he have taught Harry instead of letting him waste his time with Snape?
Dumbledore seemed to catch on Harry's train of thought – maybe he was just that transparent, he thought sourly – because the old man managed a faint smile. "A critical situation may sometimes cause one to lash out. Many wounded creatures attack those that approach them, in fear of being hurt more. It is quite a natural and comprehensible reaction…" he trailed as his gaze rested on Ron's still body once more. "I was not expecting it to be so… virulent."
Pomfrey gave a little cough that drew the Headmaster's attention, and he seemed to snap out of his contemplation. "Poppy, please fetch Severus. Maybe he'll be able to… resist this onslaught better than I did." Harry opened the widest eyes as the matron nodded and disappeared to her office.
"Snape, professor?" the last Potter protested. "Can he really do something about this if you couldn't?"
"Professor Snape and I have different ways of using Legilimency, my boy", Dumbledore said gently but with a touch of warning. "We are merely trying to find the key that will open the lock Ronald has put on himself."
Harry still wasn't very happy with the idea of Snape probing around his best mate's unconscious mind, but if these were Dumbledore's orders, he'd have to resign himself to them. He just hoped the greasy git wouldn't poke his oversized nose where it didn't belong. Harry suddenly started. He knew Ron was always the first to shake him awake when he had nightmares… Whenever it got too awful, he often found himself woken up by a concerned redhead with an expression of worry on his freckled features. He was privy to most of Harry's best-kept secrets. Oh, please, don't let Snape look at these particular parts of Ron's mind…!
Speaking of the overgrown bat, the sinister teacher just entered the hospital wing, his face closed and unreadable as usual. Dumbledore stood up, strode to the former Potions master and spoke in a murmur. Even as he did his best to crane his neck and analyse Snape's face, Harry couldn't find anything that betrayed emotion. Well, maybe Snape had raised his eyebrows at one point, but honestly, everything about Ron's current situation was raised-eyebrows-worthy.
Eventually, Dumbledore gave the teacher some space. The former Death Eater brandished his wand, muttered "Legilimens" and Harry mentally begged Ron to resist the greasy bat's spell. Not only for Harry's ego, but also for his friend's own privacy. Harry dreaded what Snape might do with the knowledge of his best mate's humongous crush on a certain know-it-all.
The tendril of light burst forwards to connect with Ron's forehead, and the reaction was immediate. Pale, freckled arms tensed, revealing discreet muscles, covered by the intricate rosy and silvery curls of his scars. His big hands curled into fists, and his jaw clenched. The light faded in less than a second and Ron immediately relaxed, while Severus Snape's body slumped forwards, his beady eyes wide and his mouth agape, sweat covering his forehead and his legs looking ready to buckle underneath him.
The ex-Potions master was looking so dumbfounded that Harry had to remind himself that Ron had risked death to stop himself from collapsing in giggles. Still, he made a mental note to get his best mate a box of Honeydukes' finest chocolates to thank him for the beautiful spectacle that was a flabbergasted Snape. Too bad Colin hadn't been there to take a picture!
Madam Pomfrey was at the Professor's side immediately, even though Snape seemed to want nothing more than elude her grasp. After a brief struggle, Snape accepted to drink a potion, looking murderous as he did so. The matron glared at him before escaping to her office.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked gently. Harry crossed his fingers.
The ex-Death Eater glared at Ron, who ignored him superbly. Of course, he had the advantage of being comatose.
"Blocked", Snape uttered, gritting his teeth.
"I assume you felt…" Dumbledore's gaze briefly shifted to Harry, then back to Snape.
"Obviously", drawled the irritated Potions master. "Hotheads like Weasley cannot keep their thoughts to themselves."
Harry was confused now. Had they managed to read Ron's mind in the end?
Dumbledore gave a weary sigh as he lowered himself back into his seat, and pensive silence ensued. The Boy-Who-Lived was getting really uncomfortable, and to be honest, annoyed with all these non-sequiturs. Were they all supposed to stay quiet until divine inspiration deigned to come to one of them?
"So?" he asked loudly, startling the two teachers out of their reveries. "What happened in there? Did you enter his mind or not?"
Snape pursued his lips into an ugly snarl, glaring daggers at Harry, who wasn't intimidated.
"You said you felt his thoughts… sir."
That did the trick. Snape, livid, rose from his chair.
"As a matter of fact, Potter, it doesn't take a genius Legilimens to read the mind of most children. You may imagine you can conceal your thoughts effectively, but truth be told not many of you have the discipline, the wisdom nor the intelligence required to practice Occlumency."
"Severus", Albus interjected softly, seeing the last Potter bristle.
But Snape only got closer to Harry, shoving his greasy nose in the Boy-Who-Lived's personal space, still speaking in a silky, dangerous voice.
"Be grateful for your friend's predicament, for he has just demonstrated the most useless form of Occlumency to you: a mental defence that bares the mind in a foolish attempt to push away the attacker."
"But it worked, didn't it?" Harry replied almost without thinking, lips twitching in an involuntary smirk. "You couldn't get to him."
If it was possible, Snape got even more livid. "Don't get smug, Potter. Or do you wish Weasley to sleep forever?"
Harry felt his jaw twitch, and at the moment he was about to bellow in Snape's face, the door was flung open, letting an absolutely dishevelled Hermione enter, her face flushed and tear-stained. The hospital wing went quiet once more, as the young girl dazedly scanned her surroundings. Her brown eyes finally fell on Ron's unconscious form, and she gave a choked gasp, her hand flying up to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes once more, and Harry felt even more helpless than before as soft keening sounds left her body.
"Oh, do keep quiet", Snape snapped, cutting Hermione's sobs short. That was it, thought Harry furiously as he turned back towards the greasy git…
Dumbledore, luckily, intervened once more. "Weeping will not bring Mr Weasley back among us, I fear. He was rather clear about his feelings."
Harry looked at his Headmaster as though the old man had just admitted to be particularly proficient at dancing the boogie on ice-skates.
"I am glad you joined us, Miss Granger, for you and Harry are the ones Ronald might… possibly… open his mind to."
