Warning: Graphic and accurate depictions of a seizure.
--Draco POV--
I nearly stopped breathing the second I saw Harry tense up, his entire body going rigid before he collapsed to the floor, overtaken by fits of twitching, his eyes stuck open wide. I ran over to him, my knees landing on the floor with a thud.
"Harry?"
Harry held his mouth open in an endless gasp. His eyes were still stuck wide, and I could see streams of red coursing through his sclera. I gasped, nearly hyperventilating, holding his arms as he thrashed around, side to side, like a boat rocking in the sea. After a while, he started making hoarse, short, ghoulish sounds.
"What- Harry!" I yelled, trying to get his attention, clueless as to what to do. His eyes were now rolling to the back of his head and his legs rocked and shook. His fingers seized, becoming claws, and they seemed to bloat and become pink, then red, with tinges of violet. I heard myself start to pant.
Harry's head stiffly went back, and his back arched so he was in a contorted, painful position. My breath quickened and tears fell from my eyes. I felt useless, mindlessly pawing all over him, trying to figure out what I could do. Everything seemed to make it worse.
Finally, his arms jerked out and locked beside him, his legs slowly raising upwards straight out. His entire face became red, as though an invisible hand choked him. Spittle came out of his mouth.
He wasn't breathing.
His movements stopped altogether, with his legs still extended in the air. He wasn't breathing.
A few seconds passed, and he still hasn't moved.
"H-Harry?"
He hadn't moved. He still wasn't breathing. I need to call someone.
With difficulty, I left Harry on the ground and rushed to my phone. I nearly tripped, but I grabbed it, and with shaking hands, called Ron.
Thankfully, he picked up. "Ron? Ron, are you there?"
"Hello? Draco? What's going on? You sound... Very unlike yourself-"
"Ron, listen to me. Harry fell, and he's not breathing, his- his face and his fingers are really red. I think he's having a seizure."
"Bloody hell, what- How long ago did it start? Did you do anything?"
"I didn't do a damn thing! Look, maybe your wife knows more about this. Please, I-"
I soon heard Hermione's cutting voice through the phone, probably asking Ron who it was, and what happened. I glanced back at Harry and ran towards him, my knees harshly hitting the ground beside him. He did not hold the same position, back now relaxed, but his face still looked dangerously red, his eyes bloodshot. I noticed the spittle now garnering on his cheek, and I bent over to wipe it with my shirt.
He was breathing now, but his breaths were few and labored.
How useful is wiping off spittle when he may be dying? How did this happen so quickly?
"Ron, are you still there?"
"Blimey. Yes. But I have to hand you over- over to Hermione now. Calm down! I'm giving you the phone right now," Ron said hurriedly, and Hermione took the phone with an indignant 'Thank you' right after.
"Draco? Hello, it's Hermione. Uh, if I remember correctly, you have to... You have to turn him over on his right side. Can you try that?"
"What? Why?"
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