Solutions, Nott and Wormtail

Harry had found the solution.

Strangely enough, it had been when he'd just done some recreational reading, or actually, when he'd checked out when the book would be suitable for his daughter.

"The Darkest of the Darke" by Morgan le Fay had given him exactly what he needed.

"The Killing Curse is used to seperate one soul from its host body."

That single sentence had sparked the lightbulb. If he'd get AK'd, he'd live, because it would hit the Horcrux.

The only problem was that he was pretty sure that he couldn't do that to himself.

Harry felt happy.

He'd just found Wormtail, who'd been missing in action for a few months.

He was still alive, barely, but Harry was pretty sure St. Mungo's would take care of him. He had delivered him right to the front door of the Ministry, to the Aurors.

Of course, he'd make sure to Polyjuice himself before doing so, but it had been worth it.

No more Pettigrew.

He returned home, only to immediately take his position at the Dark Lord's right when another Death Eater was brought in.

Theodor Nott, jr., apparently wasn't very happy right now. Harry vaguely remembered him as the Death Eater Slytherin who'd helped him getting into this mess.

He grinned.

This would be nice to watch. And this time, he hadn't even had to manipulate anything.

The other guy was trembling, violently.

Morgan wasn't there, but Voldemort took one look at him and then whispered to Bellatrix: "Get my granddaughter."

He normally only let Morgan be seen by those that would be killed.

Good.

"My Lord... I have failed you."

"How?"

"My mission to eliminate Albus Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy has not been successful."

Even better.

Harry idly wondered why Voldemort was wasting so much time and resources on completely futile plans, and why Dumbledore responded in the exact same way.

"Well... child, if you'd do the honours?"

"Yes, Grandpa. Crucio!"

Nott screamed. Harry noted that she was getting better.

Or Nott was just a bit of a pansy.

"Please..." Harry would have found the begging more convincing if the boy hadn't led him here to be subjugated to this as well.

"Crucio!"

"AAAAAH!"

"You're getting really rather good."

"Thank you. Crucio." He could see how she stood straighter, just from these words.

"AAAAH!"

"How about trying something else today, Morgan?"

That didn't sound good. His father sense went on an alarm.

"Can you do the Imperius?"

"Okay, I'll try. Imperio!"

That went... fast.

"Hop three times on one foot!"

Nott obediently hopped three times.

"Sing 'God save the Queen'!"

Nott sang. Awfully. Harry clasped his hands over his ears. He was not allowed to tell her her suggestions were worse than horrible, he was not allowed to tell her that, he was not... oh, never mind.

"No more singing. Please."

"Okay, Daddy."

"Well, we should stop now, anyway. Bella, lead him to the dungeons! And make sure he can't talk."

"Yes, my Lord."

Nott was lead away. Alive. Pity.

"You're sure your idea will work, Dad?"

"Yes, I am. You don't have to be such a worrywart, Morge."

"And you are also quite sure that you won't be able to do it yourself."

"Yes."

"Well, Grandpa wanted to teach me the Killing Curse anyway."

He was shocked.

Utterly shocked.

"I am not going to let you become a killer!"

"Well, newsflash, Dad, Grandpa is, and he has more say than you do in this situation. You need someone who can do this, and I'm the only other person available."

"Are you sure you're just three years old?"

"Yes."