Moments

36. A Lesson in Idiocy Pt 1.

A/N This is a two part story (next part: Another Opportunity in Public Relations, coming next...)

(1000 words)

The trainee Aurors walked into the open plan office with Robards just as Auror John Dawlish was mouthing off again. None of the other Aurors saw fit to inform Dawlish that both his boss and the subject of his bombast were stood behind him...

'...how can we fucking trust him?' he ranted. 'I know he was acquitted and all that, but that might be a fucking ruse. He might be running off to all his little Death-eater friends and having a good fucking laugh at our expense as he feeds them all our secrets. I mean, honestly, whose fucking bright idea was it to let him in the bloody Aurors in the first place. A fucking Death-eater...'

Malfoy cleared his throat loudly.

Robards raised an eyebrow but like Harry, he wasn't going to interfere; neither Robards nor Harry could fight this battle for Malfoy. But Harry could make it clear that he stood by Malfoy's side and, from the looks of things, all the other trainees agreed. Their black PT combats and tight t-shirts only served to accentuate their elite physicality and they made an intimidating wall of support behind Malfoy.

Malfoy stepped forward. His demeanour relaxed, bar the brief clenching of his fingers.

Dawlish paled as he turned, not just from having to face Malfoy but from a distinctly unimpressed audience that included his boss.

'Is me being here as bad as having women in the Corps? You've been quite vocal in your opinion of that too,' Malfoy drawled. Harry recognised the dagger edges lying beneath the surface.

He watched as heads of various Aurors appeared above low carrel walls in eager anticipation of some entertainment.

As Dawlish didn't answer, Malfoy asked, 'what's your reasoning there, again? Something about a liability in the field...'

It was like diamonds to a Niffler. 'Well, we all know women aren't as physically able as men, they're smaller and weaker...'

Distaste lingered around the spectators.

'Well,' drawled Malfoy. 'I'd certainly like to see you in a fight with Sakura...'

'She doesn't count,' Dawlish snapped.

'Are you saying she's not a woman?' Malfoy said slowly, as if confused.

'Of course she is, you imbecile, she's different... she's a ninja-whatsit...'

'Oh!' Malfoy conceded. 'What about Laura or Peanut?'

'Well, not them either, they're different too,' Dawlish was starting to falter.

'Right. What about Cho or Angelina?' he nodded to their female colleagues.

'Well, no, I respect them.'

'I see,' said Malfoy. 'So, you don't respect other women, just those who don't count because they're different, not real women.'

Dawlish definitely faltered, 'yes.'

Harry saw Angelina roll her eyes.

'Do you have children, Dawlish?' Malfoy asked politely.

'Yes, a sixteen-year-old boy and a fourteen-year-old girl.'

'And your sixteen-year-old son. I suppose he is a dutiful boy, follows what his father says like all good boys should?'

'I'd knock some bloody sense into him if he didn't.'

Malfoy nodded. 'Yes, my father was the same, believed in knocking sense into me too...'

'And look where that got you.'

Harry tried not to smile; Dawlish didn't know he was partaking in a strategic game.

'Hmmm... Admittedly, not into a good place. I have a question. Do you have friends who think like you do?'

'Well. Like minds stick together...'

'Yes. Tell me, what would you do, for example, if one of these friends came to you and said, "could I stay at yours for a bit, I haven't got anywhere else to go?" Would you let him?'

Dawlish shrugged, clearly not sure where this was leading. 'Of course, anything for a mate.'

'Hmmm,' said Malfoy. 'Sure. And what would you do if this mate of yours started to feed your son ideas about how women were different to men because they were less strong, less powerful, less intelligent, too hormonal? In general, inferior and with no value to add to society.'

Dawlish shrugged again, 'well, a man's allowed his opinions, right?'

Malfoy frowned but nodded his head as if in agreement. 'Yeesss. It's funny, isn't it, we're not born with these opinions, we're all born equal, but these opinions are nurtured into us, just like your sixteen-year-old son who unquestioningly follows your beliefs and those of your immediate peers.... Tell me, what would you do if, in the future, your daughter had boyfriend who didn't respect her; ignored what she had to say; treated her like she was substandard; didn't listen when she said "no"?'

'I'd fucking kill him...'

'Interesting. I wonder why it is different for you and your son to treat women like shit yet not alright for daughter to be treated in the same way. But,' he shrugged, 'that is not the point. The point is you and your friends think women are lesser than men and it's alright for you to treat women—your fellow humans—as inferior.'

'But they're different to men, it's a fact...'

'Hmmm. We're all different, that's the joy of the diversity of humans, we're on a spectrum. To say otherwise sounds dangerously like the rhetoric of Voldemort, only he used the terms purebloods and muggles instead of men and women...'

'...That's different...'

'Is it?' Malfoy asked coolly. 'Why don't you ask the women here if they think there's a difference, that is, the women who you think shouldn't be in the Ministry, just as Voldemort said muggle-borns shouldn't be in the Ministry.'

He turned and walked back through the door they'd just come through. And despite the controlled air, Harry could see the carefully suppressed rage.

Harry watched as the other Aurors, all of them, filtered out of the door after Malfoy, many of them shaking their heads in disapproval at Dawlish. He was being openly shunned.

After watching the mass exodus, Robards stepped forward, 'I think we need to have a word in my office, Dawlish.'

'What just happened?' he stammered.

Harry turned on his heel too, the last to leave the office.

Where are you? He searched using his Legilimens connection.

In locker rooms.

On way.

*****