Who: Georgi Draganov, Ernie Macmillan. What: Nadezhda has been and gone with updates about the Draganov curse. Now it's time to talk about it, and make plans for moving forward. When: Wednesday, 11 April 2000, late afternoon. Where: Around and about the Leannan Boathouse, Dundee. Warnings: Curse talk, some sadness, some mushiness.
Almost before the flames had died down from Nadezhda's Floo departure, Georgi had turned to Ernie, his expression as blank and still as it had been since she'd delivered her news. "Will you take a walk with me?" was all he'd asked.
As they walked the familiar path around the water's edge, hand in hand like they had so many times before, Georgi kept his eyes on the toes of his boots. He was a little in shock, he supposed, but he'd spent so long worrying about the effects of the curse in the past few weeks that finally knowing was almost a relief. Relief was good: it almost masked the hole that had opened in his chest again the moment Nadezhda had said the words, the deep emptiness left behind by the idea that he would never have the one thing he'd always assumed he would one day achieve, the thing he'd always wanted without even knowing it. He didn't know how to talk to Ernie of all people about it; he thought it would hurt him to know how deep this hurt cut. But there was no one else he wanted to talk to about it, either.
"The cursebreaker was right," he said instead, keeping his head bent. "We would need to get the Draganov family scroll to have a chance at breaking this curse. And as long as my--" He stopped himself, took a deep breath that didn't come close to filling the hole. "As long as Nikolay is head of the family, that isn't possible."
Ernie has been quiet for most of the trip, occasionally squeezing Georgi’s hand to feel the squeeze back. What words were there to say to his boyfriend? There was no kind way of looking on this and Ernie was never one to offer lies anyway.
“Perhaps he will die an incredibly painful death soon,” Ernie replied darkly as he kicked out a rock. “And then it’ll be in the hands of your sister. Wouldn’t it?”
Georgi nodded, though he didn't look up from his boots. "Yeah, Silviya is next. Draganov family has always let daughters inherit, because we are descended from Nerida Vulchanova, the most famous Bulgarian witch. But he's not old. He could live for eighty years." He shook his head; he didn't wish his father was gone, curse or no curse, even if Ernie did. "So I think… I have to live with it."
He was trying to convince himself as well as Ernie when he added, "It's not so bad. At least it won't hurt me. Or you." He squeezed his hand carefully, glancing sideways at him. "When we read about the Draganova woman many years ago who was cursed to lose her heart's desire, I thought it might do something to you. I'm glad it's not that, Ernie. And I can still play Quidditch."
“I almost wish it had cursed me,” Ernie said with a soft scoff. “I don’t think my family would have taken it too lightly if I’d been cursed by association, even if it’s for a reason that they may not necessarily agree with. I would have taken them to court and don’t think I wouldn’t.”
He fell silent for a moment. “But you’re right. I think you will have to live with it.” He still wasn’t altogether sure what that meant - Nadezdha’s English was more precise and concise than Georgi’s, but the spellwork wasn’t altogether straightforward. But he thought he knew the big aspect that hung sorrow so heavy on Georgi’s shoulders that they collapsed, and he squeezed his hand again to try and pump them up some.
“But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t other alternatives.”
Georgi slowed down at that, and then stopped right there in the middle of the path, turning to face Ernie. "Yes. But…" He reached up to fix Ernie's hat for him, frowning a little; it had been spitting rain earlier, and knowing the weather here, it could start again at any moment, and he wanted Ernie to stay warm. "I don't want you to think that I'm thinking about, you know, marriage and family, that kind of future. I'm not thinking about any future that I don't have you, Ernie, please believe me. I just…" He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I guess I never thought I would not have kids of my own one day, until today, when Nadezhda told us I probably can't have kids. And it just." He pressed his free hand to his chest where that empty ache still lingered, dropping his eyes to the ground again. "Hurts. I'm sorry."
“You don’t have to be sorry.” Ernie put his hand over where Georgi’s hand was placed and leaned in, trying to catch his downcast eyes without completely spilling his own hat off his head. “I am, I must admit, interested in what your plans were to squeeze a child of your blood out of me.” It was said in a jesting tone, with a hopeful smile that dissolved as he released the hand at Georgi’s chest for his shoulder and said more seriously. “Would it be the worst thing in the world if they were Macmillans and not… are you going to keep the Draganov surname?” Ernie asked, interrupting his own thought process.
Truth be told, he’d never thought of having children. Up until this year, however, he thought he would spend the rest of his life alone, doting on the children of his friends and cousins. It was so hard to imagine that person he’d been - the expectation that he would not feel love or passion or spirit and just be shy and strange and supportive to everyone else. How could he be anything else than what he was just now?
Georgi stared at him like he had an extra head, unsettled less by Ernie's teasing than by the impossibility of what he'd suggested next, apparently seriously. "I don't know," he answered distractedly. "I could use my father-name Nikolov, like Miro, but you know, I'm known already in Quidditch as Draganov, and I don't think I want to have Nikolay's name in mine. And -- Ernie, I don't think I understand what you are saying. You want to have kids? But… you're not… how?"
“What - no, I’m not physically going to pop out a sprog. Where’d I put it? I just mean… I mean, ultimately lets say that this goes to some sort of finish where we’re… you know. Together. Permanently. We could talk someone into having the baby for us. Granted, it’s not exactly appealing the whole… you know… process of doing that, but I’m sure for one night only I could get things to work for a woman,” he said, a little skeptical of his ability there as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh," Georgi answered, looking at Ernie with barely less bewilderment. "I never heard of something like that." He shook his head, startled enough to forget his sadness for the moment. "Do you want that? To not be married but have a child someday?"
Ernie’s eyes got wide and nervous as he thought about how to answer that. “I mean… I took care of you for a week and managed not to kill you. That’s a start, right?” he suggested with a nervous, slightly pompous laugh. “Of course not right this second. Or. In the next years but… I suppose… I suppose someday… I don’t know. I never thought about it. I purposefully never thought about it. But I like kids. I like my nieces and nephews.”
"Yeah," Georgi answered, smiling without meaning to. "I do, too." He dropped Ernie's hand, but only to slide his arms around his waist and pull him in for a careful hug. "If that would happen, one day, in many years," he said, "you would be a wonderful father. And I would love your child." He pressed a soft kiss to Ernie's cheek. "Thank you."
Those genuine smiles were hard to come by these days and he felt chuffed that he'd gotten one out of Georgi. “Many years though, right? Because I was thinking… when the season is over, that we could go somewhere. You know. On holiday. Get away from all this for awhile.”
"Yes," Georgi agreed without thinking about it. "I'd like to. Before all of this, I was thinking I would be back in Bulgaria this summer, training with the national team. But now, because of my father, I don't think I will be called up. So I'll have time." He sighed and hugged Ernie a little tighter, then released him to take his hand again, a signal that they should keep walking. "If we go away for a while, would you tell your family and your friends about…" He squeezed Ernie's hand. "This?"
“I would. Will.” He paused a beat, feeling a few butterflies flutter in his stomach at the sudden thoughts coming to mind. “I’ve really liked staying with you. Not having to worry about running off in the morning, having dinner with you.” Ernie snuck a look over at Georgi before looking back at his steps over the path. “I think… I think that I can make a deal with my Nan that may outweigh her personal concerns about my ethics and lifestyle. But even if I can’t… it’s just that every step we seem to take together leaves me wanting to take another. Not go backwards.”
Georgi smiled over at him, feeling warm all over. That emptiness inside of him wasn't so empty now, thinking about the future he could have instead of the one he couldn't. "Ernie," he said, after just a minute of consideration about steps forward and not backwards, "I should be very clear, I don't know where I will be next season. Coach and Shona have been so kind and say they want to keep me on the roster if they can, but of course no one knows what will happen. Maybe there won't be a place for me on Montrose if the old Beater comes back, but then I would try to get a place on another team in this league. I'd try very hard to stay here in Britain. Or even in France, where it isn't so far away, and of course I would have to learn French very quick, but… if it's possible, I want to stay here. And I want you to live with me. I know my little house is very small, but it's big enough for two, or we could get a bigger place if you like. We could go closer to your family so you can still work in the Shed very easily, or we could go somewhere else, wherever you want.
"Ernie, I just…" He tightened his grip on Ernie's hand, meeting his eyes. "I want to go to sleep with you, and wake up with you, and cook for you, work with you, make you laugh, take care of you if you're sick, learn with you, and celebrate all your success with you. If there's any way that it's possible, I want to make my home with you. If this is what you want, too."
Ernie smiled up at him, those butterflies in his stomach much happier at the ask - now he didn’t have to impolitely invite himself to live at the boat house in Dundee that had become so beloved in his heart. “I can speak French. And Portuguese. I mean, I used to - I’m sure I can figure it out again with some daily exposure.” Reckless, Ernie pointed out to himself, but couldn’t every great step he’d taken be described as such? Maybe it was too soon and maybe it would all fall apart - possibly in a foreign country - but it was hard to be afraid of that when everything felt so right in his heart. After all, he could invent anywhere, couldn’t he?
“But you have a few more matches, you know. To make yourself utterly invaluable. You know. To someone other than me. And who knows… maybe you’re not so dead with the National team as you think,” he added mysteriously, biting down on a small smile.
"Maybe," Georgi answered, politely doubtful, but still smiling; he'd already resigned himself to not playing for Bulgaria again, and he wasn't going to cling to whatever bit of hope there was about that, not when he had so much hope for other parts of his future now. "Of course I want to stay here if I can. I'll try very hard. I don't want to take you away from your family and your friends. And I… once you tell them, I'd like to know your friends. And your parents." That warmth from the idea of having Ernie with him all the time even if they had to leave the country faded a little into worry; fresh from his own family trauma, he didn't want Ernie to go through even a little of the same hurt and sorrow if they could avoid it. "If you think it would be okay," he added carefully. "I want your parents to know they can trust me to take care of you, just like if we were a normal couple, but I understand this must be hard for parents."
Ernie thought quietly about that. Logically, they had little to complain about - Georgi was loving and respectful, with a secure job and his own wealth. They’d just talked about having children, by some means, so they shouldn’t altogether be annoyed at the potential lack of grandchildren. And he’d be happy, which, all things considered, he hadn’t really been in some time. But he could almost feel the stress they’d feel at having their son once again turning left instead of right. It would be disappointing if only because they’d now have to once again be on the defensive (potentially with his father, definitely with his mother) with their respective sides of the family.
“I think… I think my father will be somewhat secure in the fact that I have someone who is looking over me while he is in Belize. And perhaps my mother will join him once she doesn’t think she needs to be available continuously.” Ernie pursed his lips, then leaned into Georgi’s shoulder some. “I think I’m at a slight advantage in that I’m the only child they have.”
Georgi draped his arm over Ernie's shoulders, drawing him closer as they walked. "Yes," he agreed seriously, "but also, that's a lot of expectation on you. I'm sure they hoped a lot of things for you, and what they hoped for was not a foreign man without a family." He sighed a little, squeezing Ernie closer. "And your cousins, too. You know, I think all of the Macmillan and Yaxley cousins like me when I'm the Montrose beater. I don't know if they'll like me so much when I'm the one who has, uh, seduced their youngest cousin." Georgi pinked up at the word, predictably, but he was honestly worried about how Ernie's cousins, many of whom he counted as friends, would react. So many worries, piling up like pebbles in his mind -- but even the thought of losing the respect of people like Mel, whom he liked and admired, wasn't enough to make him want to keep this secret for much longer.
Ernie stopped abruptly at the thought. He looked at Georgi for a moment with surprise that slowly morphed into something much sharper, much more self-righteous, his lips tightening into a concentrated frown. “I think your parents have done you so far for a loop that you’re scared of something that couldn’t patently be true. They will continue to think you’re amazing because you are; hell, they’ll probably consider you for sainthood dealing with me! Lex married Micah, her first cousin, and no one dropped them off a cliff. They’ll be fine just like your brother was fine.” He paused a moment, the look shifting again to something thoughtful. “But. Aunt Una… that’s going to have to be handled a little delicately. I don’t want… I don’t think it’ll jeopardize your spot but… I know. I’ll tell my parents first. They’ll meet you and fall in love with you because of course they will. And then… I’ll ask Dad what to do about Aunt Una. And once I know what to do there… the rest of the family.”
Having a plan was fortifying even if he was still nervous about it all. Georgi nodded his agreement. "Okay," he answered, resolved to do whatever was necessary to keep the good regard of Ernie's family. "If it helps with your aunt, Lex has told me she wants to keep me with Montrose. And she has said some things that -- I think she won't be very surprised, and I think she would fight for me if she needed to." He worried his lip between his teeth for a moment, thinking that through. "Then Micah will know when Lex does," he added, softer, "and I… I can tell my friends on the team? Roger and Kal and Ada? And I should tell Coach, in case it causes problems, and Alex the PR man." Georgi shook his head, already a little stressed just making the list, let alone working out how to say what he needed to say. "And… I think I need to talk to Peggy sometime. I think it would be unkind not to tell her before she finds out from someone else. Or the newspaper."
“Are you sure she won’t put it in the newspaper?” Ernie replied acidly as he saw the familiar worried expression that seemed to be non-stop on Georgi these days. He set his hand on his shoulder, then let it slide off to squeeze his bicep comfortably.
“Just because some people will know doesn’t mean everyone has a right to know or be notified. If you don’t want to tell the team, don’t. You don’t owe them your whole life.”
"No, of course not, but they're my friends," Georgi answered, and smiled to reassure Ernie that this, all of this, was okay. "You are such an important part of my life, and I don't want that part to be separated from the rest of me. I know it will be hard, but once people know, then we can just be together and not be so careful. I can take you out when the team goes to parties and things and not have my friends introduce me to girls. We can have a party for my name day in my little house next month and invite my friends and yours, if you want. And we won't have to worry about not touching or looking or smiling too much because someone might see." He leaned in to kiss Ernie's temple, holding him close with an arm around his shoulders. "If people we care about know about you and me, we can be more free. That's what I want."
He was leaving aside any remarks about Peggy; Ernie was being unfair to her, he thought, but he wasn't about to say so. His former courtship was still a sore subject, and he wanted to focus on the positive if he could.
It was, on the whole, what Ernie wanted too.
“I don't know about touching. I know what you like to touch and I don't think a party is necessarily the place for that.”
For the first time in much too long, Georgi laughed out loud, a real laugh that cracked his jaw. "You know what I mean," he said, and lifted his free hand to cup Ernie's cheek, smiling down at him. He'd started this walk in quiet, distraction, and silent hurt at having the possibility of a family ripped away from him; now he was content, hopeful, and genuinely happy, the ache of loss eased away and replaced by new possibilities, new dreams. That was all because of Ernie.
He leaned down to kiss him in gratitude, taking his time to be thorough, and when he broke away he was more serious, his thumb brushing over Ernie's cheekbone again and again. "You make my life better," he told him solemnly. "You make me better. I'm so glad that you are you, Ernie."
He turned red, because that was what one did when they were complimented, the butterflies in his stomach cascading anew. Ernie hoped he never got used to Georgi openly praising him because it was a surprise that made him shy and happy all at once. He leaned in and kissed him back.
“I am very glad that you are you. And that you were gallant enough to run away to Scotland so that your cousins could marry. And that you… that you listened to me when I told you to blow up your life. We’re going to be happy, you and I. Whatever else. Okay?”
"Okay," Georgi answered, his heart soaring at those words. With all this hope bubbling up inside him, there was no room for that emptiness or those phantom spell pains. He gathered Ernie close, hugging him tight, just as the threatening rain started to pelt them again. "I love you," he said against Ernie's hair. "This will be worth everything in the end."