I Don't Need a Man

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Harry chooses a university career after his years at Hogwarts. When he signs up for a course (while doing a Master's in Emancipation — and Queer Studies), he runs into the most unlikely person one would think of encountering on university grounds, namely Malfoy. But why is Malfoy there?

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He stamped his foot on the ground angrily — like a little child that wasn't getting his way. He huffed.

"I can't stand you! I want to be in this class and you just can't bloody well kick me out!"

He stared at the other man, glaring daggers in the direction of where his heart should be located. If he even owned such an organ.

"Mister Potter, I am not responsible for who gets into my classes or not — it's just a question of luck."

"But I've been looking forward to these classes for over a year!"

He saw the other man smirk.

"— the subject, I mean. I didn't know they'd hire someone like — you."

"Well, you'd have to take up this issue with the secretariat."

He huffed again. "No! Don't be such an ass — I know you can let me attend your classes, but you just won't!"

"We're rather back where we started, aren't we?" The other man sighed and walked up to his desk.

"Damn — I need this class! I won't get my Master's degree if I don't take it. Please!" He almost whined.

"I was just about to ask why you are taking this course. I thought it would be something for you." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well," Harry huffed," you're the one teaching it — suppose you got lots of experiences in the field, then?"

"I only stepped in for professor Cook, he's on sick leave. Someone has to teach these numb students about the horrors in the so-called 'free' world."

There was a short knock on the door.

"Yes?" the man behind the desk responded, brushing some of his blonde hair out of his face.

A girl stood in the doorway, looking rather lost.

"Sorry professor Malfoy, but — I really wanted you to take a look at my thesis," she asked shyly. "It's not getting anywhere."

"Sure, give it to me and I'll get back to you in a few days — if that's okay?"

The girl nodded and handed over a little binder. "Thanks," she muttered and walked out.

Harry scanned the document — The Purple Triangle: Homosexuality During World War Two it said.

"Looks interesting," he admitted.

Draco scanned through it and nodded. "Indeed." He leaned back in his chair and held his hands above his head in a casual way. "So, tell me – Harry, why are you still studying?"

"I just like it, I guess." He shrugged. He wouldn't want to show his enthusiasm for learning to Malfoy — professor, ugh — of all people. How he had gotten his BA's in English literature and German and was now starting with a Master's in Emancipation, with Queer Studies as his beloved pet project.

"Maybe you'd care to tell me where the hell you got creditials for teaching subjects on gay rights?"

Malfoy grinned.

"Oh, you wouldn't even believe me if I told you, dear Potter." He let Harry's surname roll on his tongue, making his voice sound too velvety for its own good.

Harry growled and hit Malfoy's table with his fist.

"Don't even think of physically assaulting me Potter," Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow. "I might not look like a big pile of muscle, but I've got hidden talents that I am not afraid to use."

"I see the years haven't changed the way you adore yourself," Harry muttered.

Malfoy grinned and lit himself a cigarette.

"Now, Malfoy. I know how we have this history of rivalry and hatred. But, seriously, please let me take your course! I need it!"

Draco blew circles of smoke and appeared to be pondering Harry's question with zeal.

"Hmm, I don't know. I am not convinced that your abilities and intelligence are adequate enough for this course." Malfoy took a drag of his cigarette.

"Perhaps you should convince me, Potter." Draco smirked.

Harry's mouth opened and closed in astonishment resembling that of an oblivious weasel.

"What the hell are you implying there, Malfoy?" Harry managed to mutter, with one of his eyebrows raised.

Malfoy grinned. "Oh, no — Potter." He shook his head as if teaching a little child a lesson. "Do not fear for your prudence. I was merely suggesting you hand in two of your best and most relevant essays or papers. After assessing them, I might be able to make a choice."

Harry was clearly surprised. "Are you serious, Malfoy? Is that all?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, since you seem so adamant on doing something else — you could assist me with some filing, in order to convince me to let you partake in the course."

Harry blushed. Damn, why did he have to act so surprised? He could have just pretended that Malfoy's idea was something very normal.

"Euhm, sure, I guess."

"Great!" Malfoy smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I'll see you tommorrow, nine a.m. sharp."

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TBC.

Sorry for making it so short and cliffhanger-ish. I won't do that anymore, I promise.

I have had this idea for a long time and I only 'published' it now.

I hope the rest of the world likes the idea of Malfoy as a professor as much as I do.