After the troll episode, Harry's relations with Professor Snape were much more amicable (or, at least, as amicable as Professor Snape could manage; seriously, Harry often wondered if it would take a few overpowered cheering charms to put a smile on the dour man's face). Classes otherwise continued as normal, and soon, the signup sheets for staying for the holidays began to be passed around in the various houses and posted in the various common rooms, and the children began to talk about Yule and gift shopping at Hogsmeade (although it was Harry's personal opinion that it was rather too early to be talking about Yule already).

Harry, having signed the signup sheets for both of the houses that he was a member of, just to make sure; he didn't really know which one he should do, and it wasn't like he was going to go and ask his current acting head of house even if he was now on more friendly terms with the man. He otherwise went on as normal, once Professors Snape and Sprout had told him that he was staying, and didn't have to go back to the Dursleys for Christmas. Merlin, that would have been horrible.

As the days grew progressively colder and frost patterns began to trace the windows and outline what few leaves that remained on the trees of the Hogwarts grounds with false crystal, the classes grew harder, but as if in consolation, it seemed that most of the Slytherins had at last warmed to having the "Chosen One" in their house, and he had even made a few friends, although Malfoy was still being a prat and Crabbe and Goyle followed his lead. He and Blaise, however, were both study partners and very good friends, almost to the point that Harry wanted to show him Jewel (although he hadn't yet, and wouldn't until he knew that the boy was both not in the Death Eater camp and relatively trustworthy). Susan Bones and her friend Hannah Abbott were the other two friends that he had in his year, although Susan was considerably closer. In the other houses, though, he had a number of acquaintances (good and bad), and two other friends, Padma Patil and, of course, Neville.

It was on one of the days that he had stopped by Hagrid's place (with Blaise and Susan in tow) that he learned of the breakout at Gringotts, and the fact that the thief seemed to have been going after the little paper package that the half-giant had picked up on "'Ogwarts business." He was, naturally, curious (how could he not be) but Hagrid did not seem to be very forthcoming, and Harry stuffed the knowledge in the back of his brain for the moment, wanting to focus on his grades (Merlin, there was so much that the regular introductory books just didn't tell him, especially about Potions). But Hagrid had mentioned something about a Nicholas Flamel. Where had he heard that name before?

~When the tall dark boy wass helping you go over your passst-sstudy,~ Jewel commented unexpectedly in his ear, and he realized with a start that he had spoken aloud. Thankfully at that same moment, a particularly sap-laiden branch which Hagrid had added to the fire had let out a hiss of smoke and a few crackling sparks, and so the hiss was not heard by any of Harry's companions. Jewel was particularly quiet, after all. Hmm. Harry might have to figure out some kind of spell so that her hisses were only audible to him, as well as something that could hide her more easily than his Slytherin scarf. Who could he ask, though? "Excuse me, I need a spell to be able to hide my supremely venomous and technically illicit familiar...but make it so I can hear her so we can chat." That would go down well... Harry sighed and stroked a finger down her smooth back, under the guise of rubbing his neck.

Nicholas Flamel. What had she said? Oh, about his history study period last week with Blaise. They had talked about goblin rebellions (that was all Binns ever put on the tests; not that he could write new ones now... It seemed that he had a hard enough time grading with a quik-quotes pen, as often, even the most sloppy and poorly written of Harry's essays would come back with an "O" scrawled on the top, even if he had gotten literally everything wrong. Not that he did that often, but still!) They had also talked about other, more interesting things though; Harry remembered Blaise complaining that he had actually liked history before Binns, and Harry, having only ever taken European History in primary school, besides History of Magic, asked what it was like, and how he could enjoy a few hours a week of dry facts and useless dates of useless battles. Blaise had stared at him.

"You actually think that's what history is supposed to be like?"

Harry had shifted uncomfortably. "I don't exactly have much experience now, do I? How would I know?"

"Oh my- here, I'll teach you the way it's supposed to be," Blaise had said, dark eyes beginning to sparkle. "History is not just battles, it's magic, love, hate, drama...it's like the best suspense book you'll ever read! Stories about best friends, enemies, traitors to the crown...there's Abe no Seimei, who was this really powerful Japanese wizard sort of like our Merlin, and there's Merlin himself- did you know that a witch named Nimue (or Vivian) who was apprenticed to Morgana Le'Fay herself dosed him with a love potion to get her to teach her his particular brand of magic and then trapped him in a tree with a ritual he had taught her? And then there's Barnabas the Barmy, who tried to teach trolls ballet and ended up getting clubbed to death; the poor guy shouldn't have tried to teach trolls... There's Dr. Dee, who practiced Demonology; really nasty business, that, and then there's Nicholas Flamel- he created the philosopher's stone!"

"What's that?" Harry had a feeling that he should have known that and, if he had been wizard-raised, he probably would have.

"It's a chunk of minerals and potions sediments held together by literal crystalized magic, and you can use it to brew a potion that, if you keep taking it, makes you live forever. Plus, you can literally make gold from it. Like, not transfigured gold or leprechaun gold, I mean the real deal. Permanent gold."

Harry had stared at him. "Whoa."

Now, sitting by the fire in Hagrid's hut with Jewel tucked comfortingly around his neck and listening to Hagrid's stories while Blaise and Susan drank their tea and made an effort to gnaw on the rock cakes, he realized that he already knew what had been in that little brown package. The philosopher's stone. The question was, who exactly had made an attempt to steal it (Harry had a feeling that there were a lot of wizards who would if they could, but there evidently weren't many who could break into Gringotts, if the tone of the yellowed newspaper article was any indicator) and why, exactly, was it "'Ogwarts business?"

Harry put the thought aside after careful consideration, and then forcibly focussed back on the kindly half-giant, who was telling yet another story, about an Acromantula ("a giant spider," Blaise filled him in) which he had kept when he was a student and, when he had been expelled (he wouldn't say why, but Harry decided it might have to do with the killer spider the size of Uncle Vernon's company car) he had let it go into the Forbidden Forest, where it had been his friend ever since, reporting to him a lot of the gossip of the forest, like when to steer clear of the Black Lake because the merfolk were having a fight with the Giant Squid, and who had deposed who in the centaur political circles and when the percutis pox was sweeping the thestral herds.

But he as soon as he had left the hut and the buttery light of the fire behind, the wonder and worry about the philosopher's stone returned full force, and, although still managing to make the correct little noises at the correct times in order to seem as though he was listening to his still-chattering friends, he was still off in his own world. The philosopher's stone. The philosopher's stone! Hagrid had collected it from Gringotts. It seemed that he had taken it to Hogwarts, because Gringotts was unsafe. It logically followed that it was what was on the third floor that no one would enter, although honestly, Harry knew a lot of boys who would be curious and ready to rush of and see exactly what was in that corridor, so it didn't seem like it was very safe at all. And why was the thing hidden in a school, anyway? Why had Nicholas Flamel not kept it, though, if it was not safe? Surely a wizard who Blaise had said was five hundred years old would know how to protect his property...

~What isss troubling you?~ Jewel asked abruptly, once Susan had turned to make her way back to the Hufflepuff commons and Blaise had parted ways on the grounds that he had an essay due in a few days (the Slytherin always studied proactively).

~You know the tunnel that the headmasster said wasss dangerouss?~

~Yesss. I hope you are not planning on going there?~

~Isshhtar, no!~ Harry responded; somehow 'Merlin' came out Ishtar in parseltongue.

~Then what isss the problem?~

~I think that the headmasster isss hiding sssomething there.~

~Hiding what?~

~The rock which makess you live forever and turns dark metal into shiny yellow metal.~

~Oh.~ Jewel's bright eyes glinted with a serpentine sort of curiosity. ~The hairy large one ssaid that sssomeone attacked the former cache?~

~Yesss.~

~Ssso you worry that ssomeone will attack it here?~

~Yesss.~

~Why should it be your consssern?~

~Think of the trouble there would be if sssomeone takess it! Think of sssomeone who can never die! And the yellow metal!~

~What about it? It sseemsss cold. Ussseless.~

~You know how humanss ssspeak of 'money'?~ Harry had to speak that last in English, because there was just no word for it in parseltongue. They simply had no concept of it.

~I believe ssso, yesss. I do not underssstand it, though.~

Harry hesitated, trying to come up with a good way to phrase what he was going to try to explain to her. ~Humanss cannot jussst hunt,~ he said at last. ~At leassst not all the time. Not only that, but there are thingss we can't hunt for, that have to be made by other humans, and ssso on. We use the yellow metal inssstead asss a ssort of...I don't know...exchange medium. Like, I give the the short frizzy one~ (that was Hermione Granger) ~A dark-water-feather~ (that was a quill) ~and sshe givesss me a piece of yellow metal. Then I can give the pretty dark-sskinned one~ (that was Parvati or Padma Patil) ~the metal, and she gives me a blank talking-leaf.~ (That was muggle paper.)

Jewel blinked, readjusting herself on his wrist. ~I think I sssee,~ she said after a moment. ~Humansss are sstrange, though. It sseemsss sso odd to use metal like that, but I sssupposse that you do usse many thingsss ssnakesss don't need, and it would be wonderful not to have to hunt sssometimes. But how do you get the yellow metal? Other than by magic,~ she added hastily.

~You work for it.~

~What?~ Jewel asked, and Harry realized that the second word hadn't translated. Snakes didn't have a word for 'work', either.

~Do thingsss for other humanss for the metal. Sssometimes it is giving them ssomething to get it, or other timess you make sssomething or do ssomething for them that they can't do, do you see?~

~W-work,~ Jewel said thoughtfully, testing out a parseltongue approximation of the word. ~Hmm. But where did the first humans get it?~

Harry stifled a giggle. She asked as many questions as Granger sometimes, and on as many subjects! ~The firssst humanss dug it out of the ground, I think,~ he responded. ~Not sure how they knew what it was or how it wasss there, though...~

Jewel gave a giggly little hiss. ~I see.~ A pause. Then: ~Don't you have your talking leaves to do for the motherly one and the stern one?~

Harry blinked. Then blinked again, and started with a muffled ~wormgutssss!~ as he realized that his homeworks, an Herbology lab for Sprout and an essay for Mcgonagall, were due the very next day. He was likely going to be spending the rest of the day and most of the night in the greenhouses and then the library. ~Right. Gotta get going. Can you hide again, Jewel?~

~Yesss,~ the snake replied, burrowing tighter into his scarf and letting Harry cast a notice-me-not on her. ~You'd better finisssh your talking leavesss before they give you a tail-slap.~