Phases (editing)

thirty three

AN- songs: Astronomy by Conan Gray and To Be Alone by Hozier

24th April 1996

Waxing Crescent

Draco POV

We were leaving the dungeons when it happened.

Potter gave out and fell to the floor like a stupefy charm, only no one had flicked a wand in his direction. At this point, it was essentially four of us in the corridor. I stayed back, moving slowly, considering lighting a bit of tobacco for the hell of it. That's when I spotted Potter's fall. He was walking with Granger and Weasley before it happened.

But the odd part of it was, he appeared conscious.

For some odd and apparent reason, I found myself rushing over to him. He itched my back, it would be proper of me to return the gesture. Then once I reached him, I noticed the saliva at the corners of his mouth and the slight distance in his eyes.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" Weasley barked at me.

I found myself already on my knees with my hands on Potter when I caught Granger and Weasley's fearful expressions.

"It's a seizure you dead bulbs," I spat back and began pushing Potter horizontally on the floor, then pushing him to his side.

I didn't have much experience in dealing with seizures myself, but I do know how to make it more difficult for them to harm themself in the episode.

"Well, if you're so bright," Weasley tested with his fragile confidence, "stop it."

Not a single particle in my body found a need to look at either of them in the eyes. I held out my right hand, while using my left to cushion Potter's head to prevent injury from the stone floor.

"Tie," I ordered, "one of you, now ."

My hand was empty a second longer than we had to bargain with, I looked back up and noticed hesitant hands at the knots of their ties.

"For the love of Merlin, I haven't the desire to strangle him," I spit out offended, "It's to ensure he doesn't break teeth or swallow his tongue."

Weasley looks at Granger attempting to find the answer to a potential trick that didn't live within me, but she refused to break her gaze from Potter's stiff figure. Rather, her trance breaking, the stillness in her hand resorts to undoing the tie and throwing it into my —still— outstretched hand.

I roll the crimson fabric in my one hand and begin gently separating his teeth to stuff the tie into his mouth.

"Has this occurred before?" I ask without looking at them.

"N-n-no," Weasley says as his voice becomes ridden with a quake, "never."

But just as my mind falls down rabbit holes of answers, Potter breaks from his spell and gasps for air.

"Sirius!" he shouts.

☽ ⋆ ☾

I feel vile.

Everything is red and old. Not the type of old that holds value in age, the variation of old that entails dust and dung flees. In my opinion, it's that of a comforting atmosphere. Luckily, classes are still occurring, so my reputation will remain intact as long as no one decides to sneak away for a wank in the Gryffindor dormitories.