Maggie was proud of Blaise for acting civil even when it was clear her father wouldn't. She silently prayed he would shake his hand, say "likewise," and let them leave. No such luck.
"Pleased to...! You can get your damn hands off of my daughter and get out of my house!" Brian Cartwright bellowed, grabbing Blaise by the collar of his suit and physically hauling him away from Maggie.
"Dad!"
"What are you playing at, Margaret?" he demanded, rounding on his daughter. He only used her real name when she was in trouble. "You know bloody well--"
"Stop it, Dad!" Maggie cut him off. "You're embarrassing me!" Why did they always have to fight when she was home? She missed her dad when she was away, she didn't want to spend her holidays like this.
"I'm bloody embarrassing you?"
"Yeah, coz you promised and you wouldn't be acting like this if you'd kept that promise!" Blaise was temporarily forgotten in the midst of the bigger problem. "What about Peter, huh?" They were both gesturing wildly as they spoke, as though each wanted to get through to the other in a way there could be no misunderstanding.
"Peter's fine! But you! You bring him under my roof--!"
"Mags?" Maggie only looked around when her father did to see a little boy of about seven or eight standing on the stairs. "Maggie you're home!"
The blonde broke into a smile as the mousey-haired boy ran over to hug her and she mussed his hair. "Hey!" She gave her father a glare over the boy's head. "You're almost as big as me now. I'll have to put you in a closet, put bricks on your head to make you stop growing. You have to stay little forever, kay?" She turned to Blaise, side-stepping her father, and pushed the boy forward gently. "Blaise, this is my little brother Peter. Peter, this is my boyfriend Blaise."
"I'm not little!" Peter argued. Maggie rolled her eyes.
"Excuse me. This is my younger brother Peter. Just say hi, twit." She tweaked his ear playfully.
"Nice to meet you, Blaise," Peter said politely, sticking his hand out to shake. Brian pulled his son back by the shoulders.
"Oh no you don't!" This seemed more directed at Blaise than at Peter. "Margaret, I want him out of my house."
Maggie pursed her lips. "Fine. C'mon Blaise, we're leaving. I'll write you Peter, okay? Maybe I can even come visit on Christmas Day." But their departure was stopped both by Peter hugging his sister around the waist and her father pulling her back by the shoulder.
"I don't think so, missy," Mr. Cartwright growled. "You're not going anywhere with him."
"Don't go, Maggie!" Peter begged at the same time. "You're better at making dinner. Dad burns everything!"
Maggie had been looking down and Peter, and so her father repeated to her in sign language that she wasn't going anywhere with her boyfriend. An anger boiled inside of her which wasn't often seen at school. She knew that by telling her she was better at making dinner, Peter was actually saying that he'd been foraging for himself. He'd promised both of his children at the end of the summer he'd stop drinking and Maggie had had to trust that he meant it. She'd been proud of him; he'd been sober a full two weeks when she'd left again for school. Taking several deep breaths, she closed her eyes and looked down at her little brother.
"Pete, didja do what I told you to?" He nodded. "Good. Accio bottle!"
Maggie waved her wand and bottles came flying from cabinets and fridge, the living room, upstairs, and even one in the bathroom which the shattering sound told everyone except her that it had been hidden in the toilet tank. The bottles arranged themselves neatly on the island, the labels advertising a wide variety of drinks. Some of it was innocent enough, like juice or soda, but most were beer bottles though there were also three half-full bottles of vodka, some gin, and a little bit of rum left at the bottom of its brown jug. Taking a deep breath, Maggie looked up at her father, who looked guilty, the issue of Blaise once again temporarily forgotten.
"Dad..."
"Maggie, it's not what it looks, I--"
"No. I'm done." She waved her wand again and the suitcase she'd told Peter in a letter two weeks ago to have ready just in case came thumping down the stairs. "C'mon Blaise, we're leaving." She grabbed Blaise's hand with one of hers and Peter's hand with the other, their luggage floating along side him. She turned toward the fireplace, but the pot of floo powder disappeared as she let go of Blaise's hand to reach for it.
"Oh no you don't!" Brian moved himself between them in the fireplace. Maggie snorted in frustration.
"Fine!" She turned to the front door and started dragging the other two with her. Again they found their path somewhat blocked.
"Margaret, if you walk out this door with that man don't bother coming back," he threatened. "You know how I feel about his kind." Maggie stopped and stared at her father for a moment, tears springing into her eyes. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Then you know where to find me when you're ready to be a decent human being, Dad," she returned in a calm tone. They were out in the snow before Mr. Cartwright could stop them, and at a tug of her hand from Peter she turned and aimed a jelly legs jinx over her shoulder to prevent him from following them. "I'm sorry, Blaise," she said, shaking her head. Tears of anger and frustration ran freely down her cheeks as they trudged through the snow. "I'm really, really sorry. I knew this was a mistake. I thought he could actually change. I thought he actually cared more about us than himself." She sniffed, trying to save the sobs for later when she was alone. She looked down when Peter tugged on her arm.
"Where're we going?" he asked, signing as he spoke.
"The Lovegoods live just over the hill," she replied, speaking aloud just as much for Blaise's sake. She was proud of him for learning sign language and knew he tried really hard, but sometimes he could get confused if she didn't say the words aloud for him. "They'll let us borrow their fireplace, then I'm taking you to Nana Cath's. Blaise invited me to spend Christmas with his family so I'm gonna be there. Kay? Sound good?" Her brother nodded and took her hand again. She squeezed both of the hands in hers as they trudged the mile or so toward then up and over the hill. The Lovegoods' home could be seen in the valley below.