Draco's Revival || Draco Malfoy

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Chapter 6

ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ

Charles Wyner was a unique kind of person who puts himself before others. He was a charmer with a smile that could light up everyone's world. With thick, curly chestnut hair and dimples sinking into his cheeks, he was always swooned over by the girls.

He stood a towering height of six foot-two inches and was not too skinny. Charles was a chaser on the Gryffindor quidditch team. One of the best chasers in Araceli's opinion. Charles was an ambitious man, always throwing a fit if he couldn't succeed in a goal he had.

The eighteen year old man who stood before Araceli was not Charles Wyner anymore. His bright green eyes had faded, his smile no longer existent, and his charisma no longer held the power it once had before. The war had changed him, especially losing his girlfriend and his best friend during it.

"Hello Araceli." His lips twitched, attempting a smile but it's forced. Araceli could only stare into his eyes, wishing that a light would turn back on behind them. A month had gone by since her breakdown in the hallway, then, he seemed happier but now — now something was different about him. As if he just realized the reality of the event that took place back in May.

"Are you alright?" Araceli questioned feeling confused. She took a seat in front of Charles at the Gryffindor table. He had sent Araceli a letter this morning asking to speak to her at dinner. Smoothing down the front of her sweater she folded her arms upon the table waiting for an answer.

"I want to speak about what happened with Milah McAndrew and Travis Bunderbelt." Charles speaks in a hushed tone, leaning into the middle of the table. His brown curls fell into his eyes, Araceli refrained herself from fixing it.

"Why are you saying their names like that?" She sat back rubbing her forearm feeling her anxiety crawl through her veins. "They were our best friends. You say their names as if they're strangers."

"We need to talk about what happened that night at the Battle of Hogwarts—"

"Shh!" Araceli lurched forward putting her hand over his mouth to keep him from talking. A few heads turned at the mention of the Battle of Hogwarts, younger teens who had not faught in it.

"You faught in the battle?" One third year Gryffindor squeaked out, a look of admiration on his face. This caused Araceli to scowl. The kid looked at them as if they were heros.

They were not.

"Yes we did." Charles muttered pushing Araceli's hand away. His eyes cast down on his full plate of food, pushing away his green beans with his fork. The young Gryffindor scooted closer to Charles, his face full of excitment.

"Tell me about it! Was it wicked with spells and curses flying all over the place? Did you help fight with Harry Potter? The one who destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Did you kick some Death Eater arse?"

"It wasn't romantic kid. War is not something to get all excited about. People died all around you, their blood mixed in with your own. It was terrifying, fighting against a Death Eater who killed your girlfriend. You become numb once you kill your first person, becoming a monster yourself for taking an innocent life who only believed in the things you disagreed with." As Charles told this, the boy's face dropped suddenly becoming uncomfortable not expecting something so harsh.