Legacy

"Bloody doxies!" Farley's mother cursed as she cast a knockback jinx upon the ones who dared to try and attack her.

Anxiously, from his spot behind the shop counter, he asked, "Should I run to Mulpepper's for some Doxycide?"

Whirling around so quickly some of her hair came loose from the bun she wore, Mother hissed, "No. Don't be daft, Farley. This isn't Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley! It's Knockturn Alley! If I were to send you out - even just a few shops down - I'd probably never see you again."

He shrank back in the high-backed chair his mother had instructed him to sit in over an hour ago. "Why am I here, then?" he demanded petulantly. "You said you wanted me to help you clean up the shop, but I haven't done anything!"

Hands balling up in annoyance, his mother opened her mouth to begin what was surely to be a furious tirade, when a doxy zoomed over and bit her on the chin. Swatting the creature away with a scream, she spun back around and vanished the curtains.

Hands over his mouth to hide his shock and suppress his laughter, Farley whispered, "Mother…"

"Oh, I give up!" she yelled as she threw down her wand. "At this rate we won't open the shop again until you're thirty!"

Watching in silence as his mother stalked toward the shop's door and kicked over their bucket of cleaning supplies, Farley found himself afraid. What did he do? What did he say? Farley wasn't even sure he should move at this point. His mother's wand might be on the dusty floor, but Farley was not so senseless as to believe that'd stop her from hexing him if he did something she didn't like.

Finally getting up, Farley approached his trembling mother at a cautious pace. Once he was beside her, he took extra care not to look at her face as he reached down for her wand. Picking it up, he offered it to her.

"Thank you," she said, taking it.

Bobbing his head in response, Farley stared out at the occupants of Knockturn Alley through Trankleshank's grime-covered front window. There were a couple of girls lurking around the mouth of an alleyway. One appeared to be no older than Farley, but even from across the street, and through a dirty windowpane, he could tell what she was living a far different life.

The way the girl kept smiling at men who passed her by was more than enough to indicate what existence God had cursed her with.

Looking away from the bleak sight, Farley let his eyes follow a man who walked hand in hand with a girl of about nine. They were laughing, obviously having a good time together. Again, the scene caused Farley to feel poorly. He and his father used to walk around like that.

Sighing, he finally turned his gaze over to his mother and asked, "Are you okay now?"

Her stare was sharp when it found his. "I've been okay this whole time, Farley Goyle," she growled.

"Hm," Farley replied, hoping the wordless sound would show his mother that he was fine with letting it go - even if he didn't believe her.

Raking a hand through her disheveled locks, she told Farley, "After the war, with your grandparents dead, I tried to sell this place."

"Really?"

"No one would buy it," his mother continued with a low chuckle. "Everyone knew it'd belonged to them, to me, their would-be Death Eater daughter."

Farley felt his stomach begin to slosh, just like it always did when he was reminded of his parents unsavory past. "Mother-" he began, but, loudly, she cut him off.

"I was selling it for a quarter of its value then and, still, no one would even come look at it. That's when your father came. It'd been almost two years since I last saw him and there he was, looking around my family's shop. I asked him what he wanted, since people were still watching me, and all Death Eater children, for that matter, closely.

"As idiotic as always, he told me he was looking to buy my shop. I knew that wasn't true, Farley. He'd just gotten out of Azkaban a few months ago and running a business was the last thing he had the mind for. Even so, I didn't turn him away. I played along for a bit and then we got to talking.

"First it was about me. Then him. After that, Draco, who'd become something of a shut-in and that lead to his would-be Princess, Pansy, who was living and working in the muggle world while raising Draco's illegitimate daughter. Next it was about Theodore, who'd reconnected with his maternal grandparents. After him, we spoke about Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and even Vincent…"

"Finally, he told me I could keep my shop if I'd marry him. Your father told me he'd take care of me."

Farley, awed by the story his mother was telling him, asked, "Did you say yes right then?"

His mother's lips quirked in a smirk. "No," she answered. "It took a few more months. By then I was desperate enough for money to agree. No one had bought the shop, nor would anyone hire me. The last thing I wanted to do was become a common whore and I believed - still do, even - that working a muggle job would have been beneath me."

"Did you love Father at all by then?" Farley asked, curious.

His mother frowned. "I felt…appreciative. Friendly toward your father. For a time, I even admired his obstinance. I can't say I loved him. But my parents were never in love, either. They were excellent, excellent partners. They understood each other and knew how to work together, but as my own father explained to me once, they were more like coworkers than lovers."

Farley asked, worried, "Has anyone in our family ever married for love?"

Rolling her eyes, his mother replied, "Have you paid any attention to Missis Rachel and Mister Ephram? They're more in love than anyone I've ever met! It's rather disgusting."

This made him laugh, both in relief and at his mother's distaste. "That's right," Farley said with a grin. Pursing his lips next, Farley, changing subject, questioned, "Why are we cleaning up the shop now, Mother? You didn't want it after the war, but you do now?"

She shook her head. "Not especially," she answered. "But I'm going to open it for your future, Farley. Times are changing and with you being a Hufflepuff, we could probably earn ourselves a rather decent customer base. While the Goyles were not left penniless like myself, their fortune won't last either. Investing in this shop could do you and your descendants well."

Farley blinked. "Oh," he replied. While he felt pleased knowing this shop was being rebuilt for him, Farley also was upset at the realization that once again, his parents were trying to mold him to their wants. Hadn't they learned Farley wouldn't do that once he was sorted to Hufflepuff?

Evidently not.

Reaching over, his mother suggested to Farley, "Why don't you go get the rag and bucket we brought along today, hm? You can clean the windows while I start on the back room."

Nodding his agreement, Farley did so. As he started on cleaning the windows, he began to ponder just what his future might hold. Would he continue to disappoint his family by going against their wishes? Or would Farley conform to his mother's hopes and retain her affection?

Farley couldn't say. He wasn't very smart and he had no vision. He hardly knew what he wanted to do tomorrow, let alone five years from now.

Scrubbing thoughtfully at a stubborn stain, he supposed time would give him his answer.

(Just as it always did).

Another little scene between Farley and Millicent! How do you feel about it? What it reveals about Millicent's relationship with Gregory?

Also, remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to Growing up Goyle. I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.

Thank you all so much for reading and please review :)