"You still remember, Antonin," Harry taunted, conversationally. He always loved this bit, being calm before he brought his storm to bear on the poor bastard he was about to decimate. "I cannot help but be touched. I, of course, remember you ... and that malicious little curse that nearly cost my darling bride her life, before I even got around to loving her properly. Tut, tut, Dolohov. That was a mistake you will pay for tonight."