Who: Graham Urquhart and Georgi Nikolov Draganov What: Georgi asks for permission to court Peggy When: January 19, 2000 (backdated like whoa) Where: The Club Warnings: Old Fashioned Mating Rituals of the Rich and Wizardly
Georgi's father went to a club just like this one at home in Malkograd: full of dark wood panelling and spotlessly-shiny silver and silent, deferential elves. He'd visited there with his father a few times, and being surrounded by that much somber tradition always made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to uphold the dignity of his family's illustrious name.
He'd introduced himself at the door as Graham Urquhart's guest, and he stood ramrod-straight as he was shown into the private room to meet Peggy's father. He was a little bit terrified, but he hid it pretty well as he offered his hand. "Mr. Urquhart, sir," he greeted him. "I am very pleased to meet you."
Graham had folded his copy of The Prophet when the door open. He stood and reached forward to take the young beater's hand. Graham had shaken hands with a lot of quidditch players and he could tell things just by the grip and the callouses. "Mr. Draganov, the pleasure is mine. So good of you to come all the way to London. I trust the journey wasn't too arduous?" Graham wore business robes, appropriate for almost any occasion, and had a briefcase by his seat. "Aetherton will get you anything you'd like to drink while they're preparing our meal. Please let him know any allergies or food preferences you have."
The elf, taller than most of his kind, and impossibly thin, nodded at Georgi, encouragingly.
"Water, please," Georgi told the elf. "And I can eat anything." He smiled down at him, meeting those huge round eyes with much less trepidation than he had Peggy's father's. "Thank you."
lHe stepped forward as the elf melted away, taking his seat and folding his hands in his lap so he wouldn't fidget with anything. His high-collared, traditionally-embroidered Bulgarian robes were carefully pressed and charmed not to wrinkle, but he didn't want to seem nervous or impatient. "I have not been in London very often since I've come to Britain," he mentioned. "Peggy told me Wizz Hard offices are here, and of course her newspaper office." Georgi nodded at the paper on the table. "Do you also spend time working in Portree with the Quidditch team?"
Graham nods. "I do, but I am not a managing owner like some European teams have. London is also our capitol and much larger than any of our scottish cities, so it's more convenient for most of what I do. How are you adjusting to Scotland, yourself? It must be quite a change from Malkograd."
"Some things are very different," he acknowledged carefully. "The language, of course. My English wasn't very good when I came here, but everyone has been very kind and helped me learn. The food, the clothing," he gestured to his elaborately-decorated robes with its bright embroidery in illustration, "some of the customs. But wizards and witches are the same everywhere, and my teammates and friends have helped me to get comfortable here."
He hesitated, not sure what else to say without giving the impression that Peggy might have a difficult time in Bulgaria. He didn't think that was true, but he didn't want Graham to think so either way. "Have you visited my home town?" he inquired. "I know that you have traveled in Europe."
Graham smiled. "The first time I traveled on the continent, I went to Nurmengard with Albus Dumbledore, although it took us a bit to get there. All of my trips since have been for pleasure or business. I've been to Sophia and Varna, and a number of places in between, but it's been thirty-five years, so I don't know how it's changed since then. I'll be very interested in seeing 21st century wizarding Bulgaria. So much history there.
"And of course, Wizz-Hard publishes quite a lot of wizarding travel books, so sometimes I know more about places I haven't visited than places I've been to. Have you had much of an opportunity to travel, Georgi?"
Aetherton returned with a pitcher of water and a glass for Georgi. He poured the water into the glass and left the pitcher. "Food should be here in five minutes. Today's special is the Dover Sole. I hope you like fish."
Georgi smiled at the elf in silent thanks. "You eat more fish here than we do at home," he commented, turning back to Graham. "It makes sense -- you are on an island."
He sipped at his water. "When I played with Vratsa, I have traveled often, of course, and last year for the World Cup. I've been to many countries in east and west Europe to play matches. And my whole life I've traveled with my mother and my grandfather for Hristov business, to inspect workshops and meet suppliers and so." He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "One day I will own Hristov Kompaniya, so this has been important to my family. But this is only the second time I came to Britain. I was here in '94 to see my cousins, Viktor Krum and Alexei Levski, play in the final of the World Cup. Did you see that match?"
"I did. One of my friends was on the Ireland team, so we had a good show. It was such a close match, which is what you want as a fan but not as a partisan. I also saw you in 98'. That hand switch trick was quite impressive." Aetherton arrived and served the food. The fish was delicate to the point of paper thinness and the vegetables were perfectly done.
Georgi flushed with surprise and pleasure at being remembered from his first Worlds tournament, and ducked his head. "Thank you," he answered. "I'm very honored to play for Bulgaria. I hope to again in another two years."
"I always thought the paper business was fascinating. Tell me, do you magically accelerate the growth of your trees or do you wait 20-30 years between harvests? The book business doesn't plan nearly that far in advance."
He shook his head. "No, Hristov is not in the business of lumber. We have many partners in forestry," he explained. "Our suppliers are in Romania, Transylvania, Russia, many countries. I've been to see some of the forestland where Hristov sources wood for our products, and most is natural. They have a system for rotating where they harvest to keep the yield satisfactory. Of course, I am not an expert on trees." Georgi smiled apologetically. "If it interests you -- and Peggy -- I would be happy to take you sometime to see the forests and speak with the witches and wizards who care for them."
Graham smiled. "I'm not a young wizard anymore, so I take opportunities to learn new things as gifts. I wouldn't have thought they were different, but it makes sense, since papermaking is specialized and there are lots of demands for lumber. So, some time, I'll take you up on that. Books are a funny business. One the one hand, the goods we're selling are products of the mind and require authors and sometimes art. On the other hand, we're running an industrial process to put words on paper and bind them. And our arithmancers have to figure out how many of each title to print at a time to meet demand without making too many.
"Quid is the same way. It's an art with performing artists, but it's also a business. It was a good fit for me when I got into the business side. I hope my children can work both sides."
"But tell me more about your family. Peggy tells me you're related to absolutely everyone in Bulgaria. I'd scoff, but Scotland is the same way. For example, Una Macmillan's brother is married to my wife's aunt, so we're rivals, but also kin."
Bit by bit, Georgi was relaxing. Peggy's father was kind, and not nearly as scary as his stern father. This wasn't as terrifying as he'd thought it might be.
"I didn't know your family is related to Macmillans," he answered. "I like them; they've been very kind to me." He smiled. "And it's true, my family is very prominent in Bulgaria and other countries. Romania, Macedonia. I even am related to the Minister of Magic in Greece. Not close," he added. "Just by marriage. But my father's family is very old, and Draganovs are very famous in my country, and married every other famous family. We are in every part of wizard society: politics, business, sport, newspaper. Sometimes it seems like any person I can think of is my cousin."
He took a bite of his fish, which was tasty (though, as usual, he wished British cooks would use more spice). "My mother's family is less old," he mentioned. "But still, of course, very respectable. Hristovs go back many generations as well, but only my great-great-grandfather has been prominent since he began the company. But now they're well-known across Europe, and my mother's relatives also are in many businesses."
Graham nods. "The Macmillans are an old and respectable family, going back to and before some of Scotland's greatest wars with England. Your family tree is like my wife's cousin Fraser Macmillan. It's an interesting story. His grandparents were very upset when Bertie married Arugula. Her family wasn't as prominent, or as we said, back before the war 'their blood wasn't pure', because a bunch of wizards mistook prominence, tradition, and marrying only other pureblooded wizards for virtue, and got very wrong ideas on the basis of that. Anyway, what was so surprising and amazing about Cuthbert was that he stood up to his family and married Arugula against their will, even facing the possibility that he would be disinherited. He even named his son 'Ross Fraser' after his mother's families.
"He took on everything he'd grown up being taught, for his wife. The happy ending was that his mother insisted that they not disown him, or her grandson. There were those in Britain who thought less of the Macmillans for that." Graham dug into the vegetables that came with the fish. The English were amazing with fish, but by Godrick they didn't know what to do with a potato. He wondered what Bulgarian house-elves cooked, and gave Georgi time to think about what he was saying.
Georgi did think about what he was saying, very seriously, and he was quiet for a moment, his eyes on his plate. "It was brave for him to marry anyway," he said at last, carefully. "Many wizards would not. In Bulgaria also, many old families like mine have… opinions about tradition." He clicked his tongue softly. "My father has a cousin who married a Muggleborn wizard, and her parents were not so forgiving. Some things change slower in Bulgaria than here in Britain, maybe." He glanced up at Graham again, his expression solemn. "Blood ties are still very important in my country."
"Britain didn't change willingly, for what it's worth. And as long as it doesn't come to the kind of war we just had had here, there's room for differences of opinion. Urquhart isn't as famous a name as some. We aren't listed in the Pure-Blood Directory, but that doesn't matter very much in Scotland. In a lot of ways, Peggy is more traditional than I am. I want her to marry well, but more importantly, I want her to be happy."
Georgi nodded, in total agreement there, though his cheeks were already a little pink at the topic of marriage and Peggy, the reason he was here in the first place. "I think that's very good. And I also… would want her to be happy." His mouth was a little dry with nerves; he took a sip of water to try to fix that before he could go on.
"Sir, I like your daughter very much," he said, sitting up very straight and meeting Graham's eyes squarely. "I hope that you will approve of her spending time with me, to find out if marriage to me would make her happy and help her do what she wants to do in life. I know many young witches and wizards here are dating without asking their parents for permission, but to me and my family, marriage is not just about two people but about the families. And Peggy feels the same, I think." He cleared his throat. "If you permit it, I would like to court her formally."
"You have my formal permission, and both Agnes and I will be pleased to meet your family and get to know them as part of your courtship. Please understand that I consider Peggy an adult member of the family and thus she's going to be making her own decisions, with our advice and guidance. She's the one who you have to convince.
"One thing I would say, is that I hope you all want to and take the opportunity to return to Scotland frequently. Urquhart Castle will always have a place for Peggy and whatever family she creates, and even if she's not helping me run our family businesses, I hope to hear her voice in the house for the rest of my life, at least occasionally."
Graham chased down the last of his fish. "That reminds me, if your training schedule allows, I'd be pleased if you joined us tomorrow at Rannoch Moor for Portree's next match. Ballycastle should be something."
Georgi almost sighed in relief, losing some of the tension from his shoulders. With permission from Peggy's father, he really could go ahead with figuring out whether he and Peggy would be able to make a marriage that would be a good fit for both of them. "Thank you," he answered. "I know that the distance makes this complicated. Peggy and I have discussed a little already about this, and I am very happy to spend some years here in Britain. I hope it will be many years before I own Hristov, and if we marry we could live here for some time. I do like Scotland very much." He smiled at Graham hopefully. "And I am very happy to watch Portree's match with you. Thank you, sir."