Summary: Their wedding plans are well on their way, but could certain events prolong everything?
Cantil: Well, here we are guys. The sequel to When You Love Someone. It took me a while to publish this because of writers block, but I promised a sequel. By the way in later chapters, the wedding, reception, honeymoon and song suggestion came from VoldiverOllimort. All credit goes to them. Enjoy!
I Wont Give Up
It was almost time. Their wedding plans were complete. The only thing left was for them to write their vows. Oliver Wood was truly excited as he went over the plans in his head. Voldemort was gone for the week, having taken the position of minister last year. Voldemort wanted to make sure everything was in order before the wedding.
Oliver had been upset at first, but got over it when Voldemort promised make up sex. He simply couldn't pass that up. It had been two years since they had won the war, two years of waiting to get married. Oliver and Voldemort took some of that time to work through some issues in their relationship. Those two years were the longest years of Oliver's life. He just wanted to spend the rest of his life with Voldemort already.
Voldemort had gotten over his unease of confessing his feelings and now said them almost everyday, and even let Oliver top during sex. Well, okay only on special occasions for the sex, but still. It was something.
Oliver had changed as well. He became more possessive of Voldemort, became jealous more easily, easy to anger when it came to the Death Eaters, and practiced dark magic a lot more.
Oliver sighed tiredly. He had got sick a lot recently too. For two days in a row he was sick with the flu. He only hoped that it would go away before Voldemort returned. He didn't want him to worry and postpone the wedding that was set for two weeks from Friday. Which was today.
Oliver sat up slowly to avoid getting dizzy. He got up, went over to the wall across the room, took a quill and crossed out the day. July 5th. Day Four of Voldemort being gone. After that, he decided to sleep without dinner, since he didn't sleep last night.
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Day five.
Oliver awoke to a house elf delivering breakfast. Oliver looked at the bowl of oatmeal in hunger. He had forgotten to eat last night. Oliver sat up, surprised that he didn't feel sick. He shrugged as he ate. Must be getting better. Oliver thought with a smile.
He spent much of the day in their library, trying to figure out why he had gotten sick. Their library. It felt amazing to say that. Oliver didn't get sick that day, and for that he was grateful.
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Day six.
Oliver had dark circles under his eyes. He was dressed in a pair of black silk pajamas that he took from Voldemort's side of their closet. It smelt like Voldemort, and this comforted Oliver. Oliver never strayed too far from the bathroom this day. He had gotten sick three times and it wasn't even the afternoon yet. He knew this day would be hell. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
He missed his lover greatly. Perhaps I should call a healer. Oliver thought solemnly. He wouldn't though. Not until Voldemort got back. He hated healers. He had always been afraid of hospitals and anything to do with them. He didn't know why though.
I just hope this goes away before it comes to that.
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Day seven. Midnight.
Oliver awoke to something stroking his hair. Mm, Voldemort. He sighed in content. He suddenly bolted upright, only to lay back when he became dizzy. He looked next to him. There he was. In his silky, black flowing robes. Voldemort. He was back.
Oliver threw himself in Voldemort's arms. Voldemort smiled slightly, but his face had a worried look upon it.
"The house elf's told me you were sick. Is this true?" Voldemort asked worriedly. Oliver nodded. "How long?" Voldemort continued in a controlled voice.
Oliver looked away. "Two days after you left." Oliver said guiltily. He knew he was in trouble for not telling Voldemort, but he didn't want to worry him.
"Why didn't you call for me?" Voldemort asked, angrily. He knew Oliver wouldn't call a healer unless he was with him. Oliver flinched slightly at Voldemort's tone.
"Because I didn't want you to worry, plus I thought it would go away." Oliver muttered quietly.
"Oliver, I'm your lover. It's my job to worry about you. Next time just call, okay?" Oliver nodded. Voldemort sighed, pulling Oliver into a hug.
"I'm sorry I got angry." Voldemort said apologetically. Oliver smiled up at Voldemort.
"It's okay. I love you." Oliver ran his hand through Voldemort's hair.
"I love you too." Voldemort said tenderly. "Come, it's late. Let's get some sleep. We'll call a healer in the morning." Voldemort lay down, pulled Oliver so his head rested on his chest, and stroked Oliver's hair gently until he fell asleep.
Voldemort placed a chaste kiss on Oliver's forehead, before he fell asleep.
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Cantil: There you go. Chapter one. I was going to do the wedding in this chapter too, but I didn't want to move to fast into that. I'm trying to build up to it a bit. It won't be long from now though. Tell me what you guys think. Love it? Hate it?
