A/N: Rated T for language and mature situations. I'm going to do a small, hopefully funny "Professors" series, focused on Michael Corner and Daphne Greengrass. This is independent of any previously existing work--I just really want to write something funny and fluffy (and a little sexy) with them. I might add other characters too and have stories centered around them. I will say though: cocky Michael is fun.

This is #2 in the series. The first is the newly named "Professor Insufferable". A very quick thanks to Rita for giving me the idea for a fun little series like this.

In the teachers' lounge of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Daphne Greengrass sighed and took another sip of her coffee.

"Well, at least it's a decent picture of him."

Daphne raised her eyebrow at Susan Bones, Hogwarts' newest Ancient Runes professor. "But he didn't have to actually frame and autograph the damn thing, did he? And to hang it up in our sanctuary of all places!" She waved at the article and accompanying picture exasperatedly. The image of Michael Corner winked at her, slowly waving at the imaginary crowd that he thought must be surrounding him. "The lounge is our escape from the insanity of teaching, and he brings in his own special brand of insanity in here. Merlin, he's going to be unbearable tonight!"

Susan grinned. "Not that you mind though, right Daphne?"

She glared back at Susan — and an arm slung over both their shoulders; Daphne caught the familiar scent of spice and soap, causing her to roll her eyes.

"'Ello, ladies! And I wondered why my ears were burning. Admiring my profile, eh?"

Daphne only shook her head as Susan laughed at him. "Congratulations on the article, Michael. The Prophet really, um, captured you."

Michael Corner nodded and shrugged, trying to appear humble; however, a smug smile was plastered to his face. "Well, they did have quite a lot of information about me. Enough to really give the public a well-rounded view of my accomplishments and my newest job here at Hogwarts."

Daphne snorted. "Yes, because getting you to talk about yourself is so difficult." She tried to hold back a smirk as he clutched his chest, feigning hurt.

"You know something, sweetheart—"

She smacked him, ignoring Susan's giggling. "What did we say about that 'sweetheart' business at school?"

He pressed on, nonplussed. "I wanted to present my story to the world. Give the impressionable youths Sorted into my House someone they could look up to that isn't a Gryffindor, as flashy as those braggarts are."

Daphne and Susan both snorted. Daphne put her hand on his chest. "Right, because Gryffindors are the only ones that can be flashy and braggarts?" She laughed.

"Look, I'm a Ravenclaw. I'm known, mostly, for my wit and intelligence—"

"Funny. I'd never have guessed," she said, smirking playfully.

"But I fought at the Battle of Hogwarts," he continued, despite her little teasing grin. "I was awarded Order of Merlin, Third Class, I became the first non-Gryffindor Transfiguration Professor since 1935, and, according to Witch Weekly, I was selected as one of 'the most eligible bachelors in England', from 2001 to 2007." He straightened himself up and grinned lopsidedly at her. "You see? I'm a role model, a real hero for Ravenclaws everywhere, from this year and on and on—"

"And on and on and on . . ." Daphne said, her head practically rolling backwards.

"Into the future." Michael said, twisting his head around, seeing Susan look down at her copy of the Daily Prophet, trying to not grin at the pair of them. He brought his attentions back to Daphne. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and swayed both of them gently together. "Admit it, Miss Greengrass."

"Professor Greengrass," she chided him softly, desperate to not grin.

"Potions Mistress Greengrass," he purred, leaning his head towards her, "I'm practically the perfect bloke."

She wanted to do nothing more than take the Mickey out of him, to deflate his sense of self-importance. . . .

Unfortunately for her, nothing turned her on more than a man with an inflated ego. And a man with the ability to engage in a game of verbal badminton.

She kissed him and spun around. "I'm sure I'll see you later, Professor," she said, giving him a look over her shoulder.

He bowed his head. "Oh, I'm sure you will . . ."

"Prat," she whispered under her breath, pushing the door to the hallway open.

-.-

Later on, there was a knock at her door to her quarters. Daphne opened it, staring at Michael, who was leaning against the doorframe, grinning in the way that made her want to both smack him and shag him until he couldn't walk.

"You're 'practically the perfect bloke'? Hah!" She beckoned him into her room.

Michael walked into her room, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Face it, Daphne, I am. Look, I'm funny as hell." He took off his robes, draping them over a chair.

"Humour is so subjective."

He loosened his tie, looking at her with a roguish grin. "I'm bloody smart, or else I wouldn't be teaching here."

"Well, so is Longbottom. Maybe I should go shag him?"

Michael unbuttoned his shirt, starting with his cufflinks. "And, as you can see," he said, letting his shirt fall off his body, smiling as he saw Daphne's face blush. "I'm damn handsome."

Her lips pulled to the right side of her face as she placed her hands on his bare waist, moving them up his chest. "You're not bad."

Michael blinked. "Just 'not bad'? I'm fit and you know it."

"For the love of Morgana, you're so full of yourself!"

He leaned down to kiss her, first on her lips and then her neck and shoulders. "It's less about being full of myself and more about simply being honest. And honestly—"

He guided her backwards onto her bed

"You're perfect?" she asked as he hovered above her.

"Now you're getting the hang of it, Daphne." And he smiled, dipping down below to kiss her again.