Home

Ernie MacMillan

From the Diary of Ernie MacMillan

Advertisement

Ernie MacMillan

From the Diary of Ernie MacMillan

Previous Entry Add to Memories Tell a Friend Next Entry
I used to delight in going to work. Seeing my mums and bairns grow always made my days fly by faster than a seeker on a Firebolt. Now I'm in the middle of my surgical program and thank Merlin that it will end 1 February.




Starting in July I'm in the final year of my training, I'll get to see my bairns everyday as I work, learning the ins and outs of pediatrics.

Today, I look forward to 7 a.m. and 6 p.m.; five days a week, I get to see the witches in my life. One has the eyes that sparkle that all the stars in the heavens would pale against. The other has four legs black fur and tends to meow a lot. I swear they plot with each other to make my life interesting and worth living.

I'd only make one change in them if I could, but that change is still years away…I’ll gird my loins for the most titanic battle of my life; one I couldn’t bear to lose. Preparations are never for naught.

We’ve dated like two muggle university students, in many ways that is what I am, a student. But I am also a son of an ancient family; I want to court a daughter of an ancient family, I just don’t want to involve my parents or hers, I just want to tell her how I feel.

When we dined out, there was no repetition of her choices of meals that I can remember. I chose to observe her eyes and smile and what she said. So for my party, I’ll have to indulge my Slytherin side.

I’ll set up a shelter on top of Mount Stuart on the Isle of Bute, a sacred place to the MacMillans. Here was the site that Argus Ian MacMillan attacked English shipping as it was sailing towards Glasgow using his wand in 1650.

I’ll have my Paul talk to her Calla and get her likes and dislikes and recipes. I’d like to cook them for her myself, but that just isn’t possible. Every time I mention cooking, he says, “Youngest Master Ernie, I teached you to make a sandwich, right? That’s all my youngest master needs. Anything else, you call for Paul.”

Paul is a formidable little being, plus it is his kitchen so I do what he says. I just hope Paul would help me keep the food hot in the shelter—if he would let us, we’ll serve ourselves. I just wonder how formal I should make this? I don’t want to wear what I think of as MacMillanware, but for Susan, I’d wear the drafty kilt everyday for the rest of my life if it made her happy.

I’ll think on the situation more to refine my words so I can say what I need to say without saying it outright so there could be no misunderstanding, and hope that there will be no hurt feelings.

Till the night where ever I get to hold her under the starlight, my heart will remain in Diagon Alley while I dwell and learn in St. Mungo’s.
Powered by LiveJournal.com

Advertisement