Nearly four years had passed since Severus Snape had prowled the hallways of Hogwarts, yet he found himself almost sickeningly comfortable as he made his way down from the Headmaster's office to his quarters in the dungeons.  Albus had informed him with unwarranted cheer that the House Elves had kept his rooms in top notch, awaiting his return.

He hated being so damned predictable.

The interview with the Headmaster had left him aching to curse someone, and he rued the speck of gratitude that made him refrain from making the elderly wizard the target of his frustration and annoyance.  Students roaming the school after curfew were another matter, however, and when he heard noises coming from a nearby classroom he would have thanked his lucky stars - if he'd had any.

Silently, as he was wont to be when sneaking up on unsuspecting little brats up to no good, he approached the inhabited classroom and listened carefully at the door.  He noticed that it was locked, but he'd never let minor details like that bother him before, and he wasn't about to start now.  Seconds later, the locking spell was disarmed and he was rolling his eyes as the ecstatic moaning made it obvious that someone in there - a male someone at that - was enjoying themselves immensely.

A considerable length of time had passed since he'd last had the distinct displeasure of interrupting developing relations between hormone-crazed teenagers.  Regretfully, an only minutely shorter period of time had elapsed since he himself had last been engaged in such relations.  Thus it was with a vindictive sneer and charged wand that he opened the door and prepared to embarrass the hell out of the student (or students as the case may be) within.

Only it wasn't a student.  Not a current student, at least.

He was sitting on the teacher's desk facing the blackboard, with his feet propped on the seat and back of the teacher's chair.  His robes had been pushed up past his waist, and one hand was pushing hard back against the desk while the other worked diligently on the erect prick between his spread legs.  His chest was heaving with sighs and moans while his head lolled back on his neck, angling his flushed face with closed eyes towards the ceiling in a despicably enticing pose.

He was bloody Harry Potter.

Snape paused for a moment as he fought a brief and bitter mental battle between snapping out a scathingly sarcastic comment and ogling the all too obviously well-developed physical attributes of the otherwise still scrawny shrimp of a Gryffindor.  Puberty had evidently been far more generous to the boy than his family had ever been with his meals.  Potter took control of the debate into his own hands - or hand as it so happened - by concluding his inadvertent performance with gusto, shouting out a quite unexpected name as he came.

Snape stood in the doorway gaping mindlessly for several long moments as his brain tried to process what he thought he'd heard.  In the end it decided that it needed verification, and conveniently bypassed his usually vigilant guards of wisdom and common sense on the way to his mouth.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" he demanded incredulously, causing Potter's head to whip round, his eyes widening in horror as he saw who was standing there watching him.  Face bright red, the young man shuffled his robes so that they once again concealed everything they were supposed to, doing his best to pretend that he hadn't just been caught wanking in the classroom.  Unfortunately for him, the mess left on the blackboard and chair was something of a giveaway.  A small portion of Snape's mind snickered at the sight, allowing him enough self-control to resume his habitually disdainful expression.  More or less.

"Er," Potter said, after fumbling for his wand and muttering a quick cleaning spell to eradicate the remaining evidence.  "Um.  Yeah."

Snape continued to stare at him, awaiting an explanation that was not forthcoming.  Potter fidgeted on the desk, not quite raising his eyes to meet Snape's.

"What on earth are you doing here, Potter?" Snape ground out.

"Uh - I teach Charms," the young man replied hopefully.  "Flitwick retired last year, didn't you hear?"  Snape wasn't about to be distracted so easily.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," the older wizard repeated, his voice still tinted with disbelief.  Potter squirmed some more, but this time actually offered up an answer on the subject.

"Er, I saw Star Wars last weekend with Hermione and Ron, and well..."

Snape closed his eyes, repressing a shudder.  Of all the people in that film...  Obi-Wan Kenobi?!  He shook his head slightly.  It didn't particularly help his mind cope with the concept of Potter finding the old Jedi Knight attractive enough to get off on.  The man reminded him of Albus, for crying out loud!  The Headmaster certainly wasn't on his list of people to have his jollies with!

A sickening image filled his mind of the Headmaster and his golden Gryffindor locked in a passionate embrace.  He couldn't completely suppress the shudder this time, even as the analytical side of his mind wondered how they would cope with Dumbledore's immensely long  - and most likely scratchy - beard.  He quickly decided that he was better off never knowing.

"I trust you don't make a habit of this," he managed to comment in dry tones.  Potter's flush darkened further at the combined warning and insult.

"The door was locked," he argued sulkily.

"You don't think perhaps that your bedroom would be a more appropriate place for such behaviour?"

Green eyes suddenly locked challengingly with his own as Potter slid off the desk and took a couple of steps towards him.  "I'll defer to your superior knowledge of wanking in this case, Professor."

Snape growled under his breath.

"Although," the irritating Gryffindor hesitated purposefully, "I am open to further education on the subject.  From someone experienced.  You wouldn't happen to know anyone like that, would you, Professor?"  He smirked, a devious glint in his eye, and Snape found himself once again overwhelmed by the appalling imagery of Dumbledore petting Potter's overgrown puppy for all he was worth.

Potter might call it 'experienced', but Snape had another word or three to describe it, at least when pertaining to Albus Dumbledore.  'Repulsive', for one.  'Obscene' for another; and you could never go wrong with plain old 'disgusting'.  The man was eight times as old as the boy - he should be well past his sexual use-by date!

"I think not," he sneered icily in reply, refusing to encourage the boy in such a venture.  For one thing, his youthful hormones - and not inconsiderable appendage - would be utterly wasted on that barmy old nutter, and Snape deplored waste of any kind.  "You would be well advised to exercise a little self-discipline instead!"

"Self-discipline isn't really my thing," Potter informed him, sidling closer to him with that demented smile fixed upon his face.  "But I think I know someone who could help me out there, don't you?"

This was too much.  Snape found himself choking both mentally and physically at the implications inherent in Potter's intonation, while whips and ropes and odd little clamps worked their way into his nightmare vision of the Headmaster and the Charms professor.

The classroom suddenly seemed much too warm.

Gathering himself together just enough to throw one last deadly (he hoped) glare at Potter, he fled the room, cursing Potter, Dumbledore and Alec Guinness in roughly equal proportions.

He'd never be able to enjoy watching Star Wars ever again.

Harry breathed a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment as Snape departed.  It wasn't the first time he'd been caught doing a 'Hand Solo' so to speak, but Snape, of all people! That he'd actually recognised the name 'Obi-Wan' was something of a shock, and then Harry had to go and flirt with him, with the all too foreseeable result...

He sighed again, more wistfully this time, at the thought of being disciplined by Snape.

Oh well.  If he was back for the Potions position as Dumbledore had predicted, then Harry would have plenty of time to convince Snape to have his wicked way with him.  In the meantime, there was always his trusty hand and the memory of Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan...
 

*** *** ***

Secondary disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas (duh!)
The title comes from Obi-Wan's line in Return of the Jedi:
    Obi-Wan: So, what I told you was true - from a certain point of view.
    Luke: A certain point of view?!

One last note: 'Hand Solo' and 'petting the puppy' came from the list of masturbation synonyms collected at this site: The World's Largest Collection of Masturbation Synonyms  Some of the listings are quite amusing.