Harry Potter didn't need to be told twice that he was dismissed, he was out the door and halfway down the hall before Snape could say another word. He darted between two hulking boys (was that Crabbe and Goyle?), and was up to Gryffindor Tower lickety split. Entering the Common Room, the Weasley twins descended upon him.

"Oi! I thought"

"You had detention."

"I did," Potter responded.

"Back a bit early, mate," one twin said,

"What'd you do?" the other said.

Harry shrugged, and said, "Nuffin much."

"Liar. That's Snape you had detention with."

"Yeah, so?" Harry responded.

"So he'd not let you go without a good reason."

"Yeah, he hates Gryffindors." the other twin responded.

Neville, looking up, said, "I don't think he likes you very much, either."

Ron piped up saying, "He's got it in for you, Harry."

The twins continued, "So it doesn't make sense that you didn't do anything to get detention canceled."

"Oh," Harry said, shrugging, "It's not canceled. Just rescheduled."

"Well, that makes more sense." Ron said, while his twin brothers asked, "Who died?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Nobody. I just finished the pots."

The twins mouths dropped open, as they exchanged a look, "You - you finished the Towering, Nearly Toppling Pile of Cauldrons?"

"Yeah?" Harry asked, a bit confused, "Is there something -" And Harry paused, finally working out from their faces just exactly how stupid he had been. With a sigh, he looked down at his feet, cursing to himself, before looking up again. "Nobody's finished them before, have they?" Harry asked with a sigh.

"Not that we know of." one twin said.

"And we've had detention more than anybody."

"Charlie woulda said something, if someone had -"

"His words were that it was our fault we were sentenced to the interminable pile of uncleanable cauldrons."

"Oi! That wasn't Charlie that was Percy." the other twin said.

Ron piped up, "Yeah, Charlie wouldn't know inter-nable if it jumped him." Harry stiffled a laugh at Ron's obvious inability to pronounce the word. Across the room, he saw Granger doing the same thing. Hmm... Granger, he thought, I bet she could get into the restricted section...

Later, Harry thought to himself. For now, he thought as he flopped on the couch next to Ron, I am going to curse exactly how much of a confounded fool i've been. Who got the idea to finish all the cauldrons? What was I trying to do - Impress Snape? That seemed unlikely even at the best of times, and scrubbing cauldrons well wouldn't impress, well, anyone except perhaps my Aunt. Harry still wasn't sure he quite believed that she hadn't meant him ill, like her husband and son clearly had. Even with the 'accidentally' busted chips, and broken bread that she had shoved in his face (Harry was never allowed to eat what everyone else was eating - just the broken things).

[a/n: The predictably Slytherin solution to 'how do I get a permission slip?'

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