Immunitatem CandidumBy: Lady-Cynic

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal day at the Burrow; a rarity indeed. But instead, they got a half-dead boy with silver hair and a strange immunity to the magical world. Some mysteries need to be unraveled. No ships (yet). Adopted from The Black Goldilocks' Immortal Immunity.

A/N: Woah, I did not know that this story had a lot of followers in the previous incarnation. Some of you guys are even following me now and I don't know how to feel about this. Thank you? Oh my God, I'm so fucking awkward! *Flails like a fish* Ok, so about the shipping; yeah I don't know man. I'll get back to this whole shipping thing at my ending A/N, kay? It's the second paragraph and it's actually really fucking important that you read it. Small side note, added a small OC because, as much as I love Hermione (she IS my favorite character), Hermione would NOT have the medical expertise to save someone from the brink of death the Muggle way. She may know basics, but nothing on this level. ALSO FORGOT TO MENTION: The name/title is Latin, which translates roughly to White Immunity.

Disclaimer: Hahaha, how about no?

Warning: This chapter contains gore and possibly triggering material. Viewer discretion is advised. Triggering events will be preceded and ended with tildes (~~~) so as to not be caught by surprise.

Language Key:

English [pretty obvious, no?]

Japanese [only in non-Japanese talking countries/English when in a non-English place]

'Thoughts' [in English/Japanese = (only in Konoha/Japanese speaking places)]

'Thoughts in Japanese' [when they're being weird that way]

On with the story:

Chapter One: Stricken

The rain was pouring in heavy breaths, fogging up her windows and trying to chill her house to the core. Molly Weasley gave a small shudder and was quietly thankful that she was inside where it was warm and the kettle still hot on the stove. Sipping her cooling cup of Earl Grey, she turned towards her guests, the young Auror Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. She had only just recently shipped her children outside under the guise of "patrolling". Not once did she trust their pseudo angelic faces and sweet voices saying that they would behave. She knew for a fact that the twins had a hidden pair of Extendable Ear, and she was not going to risk her children learning more about the war than was necessary and getting into more trouble.

Taking another sip from her tea, she stared at Moody, fire in her eyes and steel in her voice. "We are not moving to the Headquarters for the rest of the summer. Who knows what sort of Dark Objects are still in that house?"

Moody stared straight back, his magical blue uncharacteristically still. "Because it's possibly the safest place besides Hogwarts; the Death Eaters still don't know about it yet. We cannot afford to lose you and Arthur, but neither can we protect the Burrow, we're stretched as it is. Constant vigilance, Molly! That is the only way we'll win this blasted war!"

Before Molly could shout back that Grimmauld place was far from safe, what with its Dark Artifacts and possible cursed objects that still had to be cleared, not to mention the possibly infected air, she was cut off from none other than her husband.

"Did Dumbledore issue the order?" Moody nodded and Arthur sighed.

"Molly," he started when he noticed that she was already shaking with rage; her boiling point was nearing. "Molly dear, Dumbledore always has a reason for what he does, and in this case, the reasoning is clear. He wants to keep us safe, and right now, the safest place is at the Headquarters. Besides, it should be easier on us. We can go to the meetings without having to worry about leaving the children here or having someone watching them. They'll be safer over at the Headquarters."

She took a shaky breath and he knew that he got her at least thinking about it. The children have always been her number one concern and they always will be. A tense moment or two later, she nodded, slowly but surely.

"Dumbledore knows best. When will we have to go?"

The tension flew out the room in a second and Arthur discreetly wiped the cold sweat that accumulated on his forehead.

"As soon as possible," Tonks said congenially, already standing up to leave. Moody soon followed, but paused in afterthought.

"You should really bring in Miss Granger with you. It would be for the best to keep her safe." Molly nodded, but before anymore pleasantries could be done or the Aurors could safely leave, a loud crack filled the air and two familiar redheads burst into the room.

"FRED, GEORGE, WHAT HAVE I TOLD ABOUT APPARATING IN—" she started to scream, but was cut off by the boys suddenly shouting even louder than her.

"BOY FOUND, YARD, DYING, HURRY!" one of them shouted and they both quickly grabbed their parents and the slightly shocked Aurors.

With another crack, they were transported to the nearby yard where the children played Quidditch. Molly wobbled, the shock of the sudden side-along apparition getting to her in a nauseating moment. Then she heard her youngest son curse and she was instantly back in commission, yelling at her children to shut up and move, now!

"Mum!"cried out a shaking Ron as he was pushed aside. He was soaking wet, his hair plastered against his face and deep red blood covering his hands. But Molly didn't have a moment to think about that. Because right now there was a dying boy in front of her, blood seeping out of him in torrents.

Molly gasped in horror and tried to keep the nauseating feeling down.

(~~~)

Dark, sticky blood that looked black oozed out of his neck, where a gash barely missed his jugular, soaking his neck and his black clothing. Pieces of skin clung obstinately to the wound, giving way to red corded muscle. Several deep gashes and stab wound were found around his chest. His left arm was twisted at an impossible angle, already turning a sickly shade of blues and purple as the blood pooled under his skin. His right one was worse though; a bone was actually starting to stick out, almost tearing a whole new wound into it. The discoloration was even sicklier there, an uneven splotchy purple that made one wonder if that was even human skin anymore. Her eyes lowered and she nearly vomited right then and there.

She could see his innards. SHE COULD SEE HIS INNARDS! Shards of white material stabbed at him in various areas of the wound, and disgusting corded muscle peeked through the shredded skin. The fact that this boy was even breathing was a miracle in of itself. His long, gangly legs were crisscrossed with shallow wounds; one of them was broken from its odd angle though.

(~~~)

"C-Children go back inside!" she managed to choke out, wand at the ready as Moody, Tonks, and Arthur rushed to his side.

"No, wait! Magic doesn't work on him! We need to get him inside the Muggle way now!" Ron cried out, hand grabbing the nearest person, Moody, in order to stop them.

Their eyes widened in an intense stare of shock. Had it been any other situation, it may have been comical. Arthur half muttered half swore under his breath and apparated in a loud crack. Nobody noticed as they tried in vain to see if what Ron said was true. It was. Hell broke loose for a second, but Moody stamped it out, already barking out orders to everyone.

"Fred, George, get his arms. Ron, Ginny, take his legs. Molly, Tonks, make space on the table to put the boy down there. Move it people!"

They hurried as one, ignoring the slick blood that was running through their fingers. They got to the house just as Molly and Tonks finished clearing out the table and were getting everything and anything they would need to help this boy. According to Molly, this included research on Dark Magic that would most likely explain why normal magic wasn't working. The red haired woman was fervently looking through the old texts, trying to find something for Merlin's sake. Tonks had ransacked the twins room, garnering all their medical supplies they had used when one of their tests gone sour. She would never admit it, but Molly was secretly thankful the twins liked to experiment with such dangerous materials, as it meant they were prepared for this moment.

"I don't think those wounds were caused by Dark Magic, I did a precursor spell. They looked almost like they were made by Muggle weapons. But what could have made such a huge wound in his stomach? We should to check just to be sure." Molly just nodded at the woman's nervous rambling.

When the door had opened, Molly was instantly on the old man, hoping he may have a solution that they didn't have.

"Moody, we need to know if the wounds are cursed, quickly now!"

The grizzled old man nodded while they tried to set the boy down as gently as possibly.

"EVERYONE STAND BACK!" They did as they were told and were rewarded with a bright purple light that shot straight towards to the boy, only to drastically change direction and dissipate into the wall. It was quiet for a total of two second.

"BLOOD HELL!"

"WHAT WAS-"

"-THAT?"

"-mpossible, ho-"

"-changed course-"

"-not normal, I tell ya!"

"SHUT UP!" Moody erupted. Never in his whole career, nay, his whole life, had he seen so many people panic at the sight of a spell simply changing course. Silence was blissfully returned.

"Now, I don't know why the spell changed course, but that does mean that the wounds are not cursed because if they were, they would have been absorbed by him, WHICH MEANS WE NEED TO STOP HIS BLEEDING THE MUGGLE WAY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!"

The suddenly seemed to remember the boy was still in, and the kitchen flew into a flurry of panic.

"But how, Moody? None of us have—" Molly was cut off by the fifth loud crack of apparition this evening, and was blessed with the sight of her husband, a nervous looking Hermione, and a man that she knew by face only and that worked for the Order.

The man instantly rushed to the boy's side, barking orders at everyone in a strange tilting accent that sounded neither American nor Irish, yet both at the same time.

"Hermione, you and Ron will press a bandage to his neck and any other open wounds; press tight. Molly, Ginny, help them. Moody, help Arthur set his broken arm back into place, yes, like that now. Tonks, go to St. Mungo's or wherever and get any other Healers that work for the Order. Explain if you have to, but be quick about it. Fred, George, you're going to help me dress and suture his open wounds. Quickly now!" The man took control quite easily, as if he was in this situation before. He was already on first name basis; last names were too long and they did not have that sort of time right now.

The sound of bone against bone shuddered through the air as Moody and Mr. Weasley set about resetting the bones. For a moment they had thought they made it worse, but the unnamed man simply nodded at their work. They were in a flurry of motion as he took out medical supplies out of an old, black leather bag.

Tonks had quickly returned with Madame Pomfrey and one other medic, and for a moment everyone was relieved. The Healers were here; they would take care of everything and this boy's life wouldn't have to weigh so heavy in their hands.

Then the Healers said the phrase that made any of the relief they may have felt disappear.

"We're going to need stitches."


Ginny, by no definition, was a coward.

She overcame her six unruly brothers, fought back against any and all bullies at Hogwarts, and even (sort of) faced the Dark Lord's memory during her first year without severely traumatizing herself. That was enough, in most people eyes, to receive a sort of admiration that rivaled even Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived.

None of her bravery was there with her now that she stared at the surprisingly young frame of the boy on the table, who could possibly die this very minute.

Not a single drop could be found.

Sure, she had courage to dress some of the smaller wounds and not look away when the Healers began to work on him, but it was not without shaking hands and the strong urge to vomit.

When the Healers actually began to sew his stomach and arms close, the glinting needle causing small streams of blood as it went through the meat, and he started to actually wakeup, she couldn't handle it anymore.

She promptly fainted.


Pain.

What was it with his body and pain? He wondered vaguely if Kami hated him.

Noises were returning to his ears, but their voices were too foreign and indistinct to single any of them. They were too loud though; his hypersensitive ears were starting to hurt. For a moment he felt him slipping into darkness, and he almost welcomed it.

As sudden as that slipping sensation that could only be described as death, he was brought back by the pulsing sensation of pain. He felt the stiff wooden table underneath him (or at least what he assumed was a wooden table), and the noises started to take distinct shape.

Footsteps, the sound of running around a wooden floor, equipment and metal objects banging about, the damnable sound of his harsh labored breathing, and voices; so many voices. Panicked voices, screaming voices, sad voices, discussing and arguing at all levels. They bothered him. Always screaming, why were they always screaming around him? They brought forth unbidden memories that he dared not remember, but was forced to anyways.

"You can't let him take the Jonin Exams yet, Minato! He's too young; only twelve fucking years old! He deserves a normal fucking childhood too! Don't ya think you should cut him some fucking slack, eh?" Jiraiya yelled at his ex-disciple. The blond frowned, but there was no denying the sadness that was in his eyes. Kakashi had to stop himself from running over to his sensei to apologize for making him sad. Why did he always fuck up and make everyone around him so sad?

"I'm letting him take the exams because he's ready, Jiraiya. He wants to take them! Do you think I want this for him as well? But this is the only way he can cope with everything he's been through, and I am not going to take that away from him. He won't stop until he's the best, or worse, until he dies. Don't you see that he's trying to prove himself, no, to prove to everyone, NO, NOT EVEN THAT, TO PROVE TO HIS DEAD FATHER THAT HE IS THE BEST!?"

He cut the memory from there, unwilling to allow it to continue. But just as he was successful at keeping one down, another resurfaced before he had time to block it out.

"Sakumo, he's only three years old! I don't care if he's a prodigy, he's only a child!" a distressed Hana Hatake cried out. He flinched from his hiding spot when his father slammed his palm again the worn, wooden kitchen table.

"Damnit Hana, don't you see? The boy is a prodigy! It his duty to follow the shinobi path and create a history that will be told throughout time. He has the possibility to be the very best!"

He frowned; him a prodigy? It seemed impossible. His father just yesterday had yelled at him when he only got one out of three bull's eyes with the kunai. But his father sounded so sure…

"Sakumo, no! I don't want to lose my only child to the shinobi way. I don't want him to see and commit such horrors. Please, don't push him to this!"

He heard the light shuffling of footsteps as someone neared the doorway. He quickly shuffled out of sight and up a stairway. When he knew for certain he wasn't caught and was out of sight, he turned around, pretending he just came down. As he reached the last few flights of steps, he saw his father step out of the kitchen doorway. He tensed for a millisecond.

"'Morning father," he yawned out, pretending to appear as if he just woke up. His father's head snapped up, and for a moment it seemed that his eyes could see his soul.

"Good morning son. Would you please come to the kitchen? Your mother and I need to discuss something with you," he replied, already stepping back into the kitchen. Kakashi quickly followed, not wanting to keep his father waiting. Upon entering, both his parents turned to him. His father started.

"Kakashi, do you want me to continue to train you? To become a shinobi and protect your village and the people you love? To become the best there is and bring pride and honor to our family?"

He froze. He knew it had to do with the conversation his parents were having earlier, but he was unsure how to answer. If he said no, his father may be disappointed with him, stop spending time with him and training him. But if he said yes, he may disappoint his father by not being the prodigy he had claimed him to be, by not being the best shinobi there ever was. His mouth started to spill out the words before his head could even process them.

"Of course I do! I'm going to be the best shinobi ever! I will bring pride and honor to our clan. I promise!" he suddenly stopped himself before he could any further into his declaration. Sakumo smiled at his son and Kakashi all but preened under the man's attention. His mother just turned to leave before anyone could see the bitter tears fall down her face.

He wanted the memories to stop; to shake his head before anymore could come. But he couldn't move, still too weak from the blood loss and muscular damage. His eyes fluttered for a moment he caught the glimpse of a medic before he squeezed them shut. Another memory spilling forth and he was forced to endure it like the others.

"Go get Tsunade-Sama! Quickly now, tell her that Hatake Kakashi has been found in southern Iwa!" The doctor's obscenely loud yelling woke him up, and he was so numb from all the painkillers that he couldn't even feel his body. It didn't matter though. Because he was back home; he was safe.

A nurse squeaked a quick reply and not soon afterwards did he hear the booming voice of the one and only Tsunade Senju.

"WHERE IS HE?! HOW EXTENSIVE ARE THE WOUNDS!"

"T-They're pretty extensive m-ma'm; he has-"

"DAMNIT NURSE, HURRY AND SHOW ME THE WAY! WE CAN'T WASTE TIME TELLING ME WHAT'S WRONG WHILE WE'RE NOT HEALING HIM. DAMN NURSES THESE DAYS!"

The doors opened with an obnoxious bang and cracked the wall it hit as a raging Tsunade burst into the room.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE YOU FOOL! GET A MEDIC SQUAD DOWN HERE STAT AND HELP ME HEAL HIM!" she shouted, hands already glowing with chakra from her medical ninjutsu.

Kakashi couldn't exactly feel it, but he instinctively knew that she was checking for any internal injuries and was healing everything in her power. The medic from before scrambled back inside with a few more medics and rushed to Tsunade's side.

"NURSE, GET ME 5 CC'S OF MORPHINE AND 2 PINTS OF O POSITIVE STAT!" Tsunade shouted across the room while the other medic brought the two extras up to speed.

"Both of his legs have been broken in several locations, mainly around the ankles, three broken ribs, a possible punctured lung, both of which have traces of tar, third degree burns everywhere, and open lacerations all over his back; assume infection."

The memory ended around there, as they had started to pump him with the morphine, which, when added to the extensive amount of painkillers he was already on, caused him to black out. He forced himself to finally push the memories back there. He didn't want to remember anymore and he had to push himself to actively take in his surroundings in order to distract himself. He tried to focus on the voices, but quickly remembered that they spoke in some strange, foreign language. He frowned.

"Oh wow Hatake, you can accomplish something after all." The frowned deepened; why couldn't he understand them? The language they spoke, Nipponjin, was universal from where he came from. The possibility that he may not be in Hi no Kuni, Fire Country, was a daunting one, and he pushed such fretting thoughts to the back of his head. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Suddenly he felt someone crack his bones in place and nearly bit his tongue off in shock. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to relax and slow down the beating of his heart. Just as sudden as they had reset his bones, they started to stitch him up in several places at once, warm blood trailing downwards in a sticky path. While one hand was doing it in the quick, methodical way of a medic, another was doing it in the slow, crude, and, more importantly, painful way. If Tsunade was here, she would have shouted at them that they were utter fools and to leave before they killed someone with their stupidity. He snorted softly and forced another groan down. The people around him became more agitated as they noticed he was awake through the whole gruesome procedure.

Coughing up blood and causing a needle in his arm get lodged in a 30 degree angle; he suddenly opened his normal eye and shouted with a tone full of ire and exasperation:

"Nice going idiot. Why not just kill me with a fucking kunai. Certainly is a hell lot more efficient and spares me from you lot of fools."

A/N: Look who finished early! Aww yeah. I had to change the memory sequences just a tad, especially Tsunade's part because she seemed a tad too OOC in my opinion, and because Kakashi's blood type is O (most likely positive), not A positive. As it is, blood type O (negative especially) is the universal donor, meaning anyone can accept blood type, so when someone is in an emergency but they don't know their blood type, they are given O. Blood type AB on the other hand is the universal receiver, meaning they can accept any blood type. CC's stand for cubic centimeters and blood is given in pints. If the human body loses more than a liter I believe, they die, so the fact that he needed 2 pints is a lot, especially since he already had so many painkillers in his system. Hehe, sorry for the info ramble, I tend to do that a lot…

Anyways, onto the shipping dilemma; understand first off, I write smut. I write a lot of smut actually. And that smut is usually really, really fucking queer. So to do anything more than just pure plot or hinted ships, it'll be hard for me. Not because it is straight (I used to write straight smut when I was younger), but because my invariable need to go further with it. So here's the deal, if more than 90% of you guys want this story to have ships, then I will write it. You do NOT, however, get a say in the ship, unless it's a unanimous vote (meaning I want you to all give me your opinion on the shipping and if you want it etc.). The only thing that can be decided is the sexual orientation of the ships. E.g. Male/Male, Female/Male, Female/Female, etc. Other than that, you're just gonna wait and see. That being said, they will NOT suddenly wake up and go, "oh, let's date." It's gonna be a slow buildup. And I do mean slow. Also (last also, I promise), the ships DOES NOT HAVE TO INCLUDE KAKASHI. I REPEAT, THIS POLL (via review), DOES NOT HAVE TO INVOLVE KAKASHI SHIPS. You can ask for something completely unrelated like Neville/Luna or Ron/Hermione, etc. Thanks for listening me out and hope you enjoyed Chapter Two.

Chapter Title is Stricken by Disturbed.