It was Saturday of their Hogsmeade weekend holiday, and the golden trio was having a ball in the Three Broomsticks. I got an earful of all the gossip, complaints about NEWT exams, and general goings on with their professors.

Me? I was only half listening. The majority of my mind was on the future.

Eventually, Voldemort or someone would send something to test me. Then, they might send something to kill Harry, just to see what I'd do. I had to wonder which of the two it might happen first, and what the potential opponents might be.

Harry mentioned that he'd killed a troll his first year of school, so I was aware the wizarding world has mythical creatures. There's an option: attack by mythical beasts. Voldemort's foot soldiers, Death Eaters, were certainly another possibility.

Dumbledore had mentioned dragons. I'm not particularly fond of fire — as it was how I lost my arm and eye in the first place — but it won't do anything more than give me a lot to heal from. Chances are, I could kill a giant flying lizard by myself. Might be a challenge, even!

"Guys, I'm going to take a little walk around this cute little village. I'll hear you if you need me."

They told me they'd be fine, and hoped I'd enjoy the town.

"It seems nice. I'll be back in a little bit," I said, and left the kids in the tavern.

Honestly, I really wanted a little fresh air, and I didn't care if it was cold. It was; I could see my breath.

There was a crack, almost like a car backfiring, and a person appeared within range of me. Forty feet away, around the Three Broomsticks, to the right. Male. Elevated heartbeat. No firearms. A wizard with that characteristic miasma that Snape and Draco had.

He wasn't going into the tavern. He was using it as cover. Probably came to visit with me, I deduced.

I stood there and let him come. He didn't need to know that I was aware of his presence, or that his sneaking skills were atrocious.

Twenty feet away, well within striking distance for both of us.

Sure enough, he raised his wand, whispered "Crucio," and hurled the spell at me. Of course, it didn't do anything. I stood still, facing away from him, just to see if he'd try it again.

He did.

I turned around and smiled at him. He was wearing black: it looked like fetish gear executed in wool. What little I could see of his hair around his hood was matted, and the mask he was wearing hid his expression.

"Do I get to know who you are before this gets more interesting?" I asked. It never hurts to show interest.

My opponent hissed and cast another spell. He didn't hold back this time: Avada Kedavra. That was a mistake on his part.

I "died" and my body proceeded to do terrible things.

I returned to consciousness two minutes and forty-three seconds later — a minute and a half quicker than last time — crouched over the body of the Death Eater.

The wizard was dead, torn limb from limb and disemboweled. The noise, I suppose, had drawn a crowd, including quite a few Hogwarts students. I felt very bad about that, and quite embarrassed.

I stood up and looked at the gore on my hands. Grand, a piece of kidney stuck to my palm. It came off when I flapped my digits.

"Um." I said to the gathered crowd. "I don't think he realized that the stories are true. Sorry about the mess. Heh. Heh."

Cue weeping women. Signal the worried manly-men. Tell Chuck to vomit, wait, that was Seamus. Neville followed a close second.

It was pretty bad, but the worst part was how upset my Golden Trio was. They'd just witnessed me at my worst. Nothing can prepare you for seeing someone you know turn into a person-shaped, amoral murder machine that periodically eats part of his kill.

After a few minutes of silent standoff, another tavern keeper — not the one from the Three Broomsticks — approached me and waved his wand. I knew that movement. He'd cleaned me up. He gave me a tiny nod, then looked down at my handiwork. All that was left of the mask was bits of white here and there.

"Death Eater," he said, "Gregor Karnak. Escaped Azkaban by disappearing, and not seen for the last fifteen years."

"Oh. Any surviving family?" I asked.

"Yes. He was head of his household. Two children, looked after by his estranged wife. A decent bit of gold, if stories hold true." The big man scratched his gray beard. "There's right of conquest, you know. And his wand is yours, too. You bested him."

"Excuse me? Conquest."

"All that was his is yours if you claim it. You'll need his wand, and maybe his head, to do so. Gringotts handles the rest."

I felt a little sick to my stomach, and started walking in circles around the mess I'd made.

"Boy, are you going to piss on the corpse to show that you own it, or are you just feeling a moral conflict?" He's one perceptive tavern keeper.

I pointed at all the people who'd come out of their houses, shops and warm corners. "I'm upset that I interrupted their evenings. Worse, some of them saw what I did to this man."

That drew a rueful chuckle from the man who stood beside me. "They've seen more than you can imagine. Hogwarts is right up the way, you know. A day without magical madness is like a day without a good dump in the chamberpot."

"Still."

"Lad," he patted me on the back, "your notoriety begins here. Better get comfortable with it. Ask that young Harry Potter about dealing with legendary status. He knows a thing or three."

I nodded.

He continued, "Now get that head and wand. I'll find you a nice takeaway bag. Don't forget, the wand belongs to you now, regardless of what some may tell you. Oh, and take good care of the boy."

"I will."

Wand belongs to me? What use do I have for a wand? Toothpick?

A few minutes later, I had Karnak's wand in my pocket and a bag charmed against smell and putrefaction in my hand. I walked back over to my friends, and shrugged.

"I have no clue what to do now."

"I suppose you'll need to visit Gringotts," Harry said.

"Prob'ly ought to talk to Dumbledore, too." Ron nodded his head enthusiastically. "Though, he might've heard by now. Owls, you know."

"Owls and other students," Harry added. "I only see a handful of us about. A few must have run back to school."

Hermione had pointed questions. "What happened when he cast the Killing Curse? You went insane. Why did that happen? You said you were immune to them all."

"Let's walk and talk, okay?" Standing around in the middle of Hogsmeade with a head in a bag was quickly losing its charm.

When we were on the road back to school, I offered my take on what happened.

"When Dumbledore cast the killing curse at me, I found out that it causes people to die by shutting down the autonomic nervous system."

"Go on!" I couldn't tell if Hermione was interested, annoyed or something else.

"So, he used the curse on me, and my brain sort of died, but not quite. When I'm mortally injured, the machine part of me takes over while I heal. All it wants to do is keep me alive long enough to heal completely. Usually, that means going wild and killing everything dangerous." I fought over words to use, and Harry saved me by asking another question.

"But, if Professor Dumbledore tried it on you, and the same thing happened, why isn't he dead?"

"Deep down, I'm guessing I understood that Dumbledore wasn't dangerous, and didn't attack him."

"Good thing, mate. You would have been thrown in Azkaban for that."

"Ronald!" Hermione snarled.

I went on, half to myself, and half answering Hermione's questions. "When we tested the curse, I just stood there for four and a half minutes until my consciousness switched back on. Essentially, Hermione, I am immune. The killing curse doesn't kill me; I come back."

Harry took off his glasses and wiped them on his sleeve.

"So, the curse DOES kill your brain, but you get restarted. You do have a vulnerability of a kind," Harry observed.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

I nodded. "My brain was off significantly less time than before. I didn't want to test the killing curse more than once, in case that other part of me decided Dumbledore was dangerous. But with other spells that affected me, we noticed an adaptation to them. If I'm hit with them multiple times, my enhancements learn how to minimize the damage and heal faster."

"That's fascinating!" Hermione's eyes were bright. I recognized that look. "We saw it all." I could hear the excitement in her voice. "You let out this inhuman howl, tore his wand arm off, threw him to the ground and pulled out his insides. Then you pulled off his other limbs."

"And then you ate somma his bits. Never seen anything like that, and we've seen a quite a bit," commented Ron. "That's going to get around real quick."

"I think we'll see more Death Eaters soon. They're not going to believe what happened, and they'll want revenge." Harry put his glasses back on and seemed to get lost in watching the scenery.

"Like I said, Harry, that's part of what we're counting on."

"Wait," Hermione got in front of me and raised a finger. "Did the Headmaster try Bombarda or Reducto, as well? Did you blow up?"

"Not as such, no. Thrown around, yes. Got some holes that healed rather fast, yes. Complete explosion into gobs, no."

"Blimey," whispered Ron.

We walked the rest of the mile in silence. Hagrid met us at the main gate.

"Well, Mister Stewart! Yeh don' do anything small like, d'yeh!" I got the hint of a wide smile under that gigantic beard. "Would've liked to see that for sure. Come on, all of yeh go in for dinner. I think yer the last ones in."

I didn't really feel like food...I'd had a snack earlier.

"Don't yeh fret, Frank. He was a bad man and deserved at least as much as yeh gave 'im. Dumbledore says we're ta go ta Gringotts and settle the affairs. Never been, have yeh?"

"No."

"Well, it's quite something to see. Model of efficiency and all."

Hagrid slapped me on the shoulder and I went rolling through the gates. He loved that I took his affection with a roll rather than just collapsing.

"Haha!" Hagrid crowed. "Get yerselves to the hall. I'll be along presen'ly."

Thusly encouraged, we went.

Everyone was already seated when we arrived. Silence spread through the room the moment Harry, who was in the lead, opened the doors. They knew I was nearby, even if they didn't see me right away.

We walked across to the Gryffindor table, and Dumbledore called out to me before I had the chance to sit down.

"Quite an eventful afternoon, Mister Stewart."

"Indeed, Professor."

"You're well, I assume."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I bowed my head, suddenly uneasy about being recognized that way. "By the by, does news always travel this fast around here?"

"Oh yes! People do talk when something unusual happens." Dumbledore shooed me. "Do sit, young man! The roast is succulent tonight."

I mumbled "Thank you," and sat down...Beside Ginny Weasley of all people. She scooted away from me slightly, and I didn't blame her in the least. Cute blush though.

"I heard it was awful," Dean whispered. He'd come back before the show. "Was it?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a nod.

"Everyone, I don't mean to be rude, but could we change the subject. I still feel a little strange about showing myself at my worst this way."

I was rewarded by their instant understanding. Conversation rapidly turned to Quidditch and the latest models of brooms.

Hermione, on the other side of the table, ran her bare foot up my pants leg. I knew she'd sneak into my room later and ride me into the sunset. I like her very much, but the girl is voracious.

-**HPDEB**-

From the Special Evening Edition of the Daily Prophet

Death in Hogsmeade!

By Thomas Buchanan

Lord Gregor Karnak, wanted Death Eater, was killed on the main street of Hogsmeade before many witnesses this afternoon. Onlookers reported that Karnak apparated, in full Death Eater costume, near the Three Broomsticks and was confronted by Harry Potter's bodyguard — the Immune Muggle — Frank Stewart. The men exchanged words, whereupon Karnak used the Killing Curse against him.

According to locals, Stewart did not die, but uttered an inhuman howl and lunged towards Lord Karnak.

"I've heard many yowls in my day," said Yancy Borogrove, gardener, "but that, the cry of the Immune Muggle, made my (expletive deleted) turn to water."

According to the onlookers, the man tore Karnak's limbs off, ripped open his abdomen, and appeared to eat one of Karnak's kidneys.

"I been cuttin' up hogs all my workin' days, and that were sure a kidney," remarked Barney Glubbins, butcher's apprentice. "Funny thing were how he came back to himself after."

Local residents say Stewart returned to normal when Karnak was dead, and appeared to be quite taken aback by what he'd done.

The proprietor of the Hogshead tavern was reached for comment, he told this reporter, "The lad was quite abashed, and apologized to everybody. 'I don't think he realized that the story is true. Sorry 'bout the mess. Hah. Hah,' he said."

We asked the innkeeper what story the man referred to.

"There was a rumor down from Hogwarts that there was a Muggle who swore himself to Harry Potter's protection. They said he had a black right arm — which he does — and that he's immune to magic. Seems to be the case, since the Killing Curse didn't kill him. Didn't you hear about that?"

At the end of our interview with the owner of the Hogshead, were were told that the man with a black arm will be claiming right of conquest — almost unheard of in modern times.

The Daily Prophet attempted to reach Headmaster Dumbledore for comments, and were told only this: "Oh, I expect you'll hear more of him in the near future."

Who is this mysterious Immune Muggle? Where did he come from? What of his black arm? Is he a vigilante with a taste for Death Eaters, or a risk to the entire wizarding world?

-**HPDEB**-

At the Malfoy Estate, all the furniture in Lord Voldemort's favorite sitting room fell victim to his rage. The Daily Prophet was crunched up in his shaking fist.

"Lucius! What is the meaning of this?" Voldemort screamed. "Who is this Frank Stewart?"

Malfoy stood in the doorway and quietly studied every avenue of escape, including where he might apparate to if the Dark Lord's wrath fell on his shoulders.

"Lord, this is the Muggle my son spoke of."

"Send Lady Swift to Karnak Manor! She will take exception to the execution of her lover. She will kill him in her rage, Curse or no."

Nagini lunged at Lucius, who narrowly avoided being knocked backward by the snake's gigantic head.

Voldemort turned on Malfoy, red eyes burning like the flames of Hell. "Tell your son that I require daily updates on Harry Potter and this bodyguard. Details! I want miniscule details!"

"Tell Snape as well, Lucius. I will have him kill this Muggle if my Death Eaters fail."

"As you wish, Lord." Malfoy bowed and tried to slip away.

"And Lucius, if Snape fails, you will follow him. If you fail me, you know I will do things that will torment your ghost for all eternity."

"My Lord." Malfoy hurried away on his errands.