Summary: Oliver Wood has a secret, he's in love with Lord Voldemort.
Cantil: Hello, if you are reading this then that means my story caught your attention. Yay! The only warnings I have before you read this is that probably everyone will be OOC including Voldemort, spelling/grammar mistakes, Voldemort/Oliver pairing and slash. If you do not like that then leave now. Enjoy. And the chapters will get longer most likely by chapter two or three.
When You Love Someone
It was a normal day at Hogwarts. The first years were enchanted by almost everything around them, the Slitherin's were sneering at anyone who dared to look their way, and the rest of the Great Hall was bustling with idle chatter. Yes. A normal day for everyone but seventh year, Oliver Wood who was silently picking at his food as he thought about his secret. He, Oliver Wood was in love and not just with anyone. He is in love with Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord, Tom Riddle. I think you get the point.
It had happened last year, Oliver had just sat down to breakfast and was gathering some eggs while thinking up who was going to make the quidditch team, when a daily prophet was thrown in his face by one of his friends. Oliver being curious as to why he was disturbed, flipped over the prophet to the front page. It was then that he froze. All he could do was stare. There in the picture was Lord Voldemort torturing Harry Potter at the Ministry. He was bald, had no nose and just looked all around snakelike however, all Oliver could think was that Voldemort was beautiful in his own way. It was then that he fell in love.
There were times Oliver wanted to go back to that day and never look at that prophet. To never feel the pain of loving someone who couldn't possibly ever love you back, but what's done is done. There's no going back. He's stuck. Hopelessly in love and wishing he wasn't. Which led him to his current situation. He felt lost. He couldn't possibly tell anyone his secret. No, everyone would surly hate him nor would they understand how he could love someone like Voldemort.
Oliver sighed as he stood from the Griffindor table and silently made his way to his first class, ignoring his friends and the many eyes watching him. The rest of the day progressed much the same way, right on until he was in his bed that night, tossing and turning.
"Dammit, this has to stop." Oliver muttered tiredly. He sat up, rubbing his tired eyes and grabbed a book off his nightstand. Eventually Oliver decided to try and sleep again. It worked however, even in his dreams he could not escape Lord Voldemort.