2 May, 1998—The Battle of Hogwarts

Another piece of stone came crumbling down from the wall somewhere beside Remus Lupin as curse after curse was flung his way.

Keep fighting, he told himself. Do this for Teddy, for Dora. He threw a curse toward his attacker with all the strength he could muster. Despite all of the encouragement he kept repeating to himself in his mind, Remus Lupin was giving up hope.

Antonin Dolohov stood his ground not far in front of Lupin, flicking curses left and right as if it were the most natural thing he could possibly do. Remus was forced to dodge quickly to the right as a stream of purple fire nearly hit him square in the chest. He was running out of breath and out of ideas. He couldn't possibly turn and run, as tempting as the idea was, for doing so would surely guarantee his death. Dolohov had no sense of dignity. A spell aimed at a turned back would give the Death Eater no shame.

Keep fighting. Go home to Teddy with Dora. Don't let him grow up without a father.

Remus kept fighting. But, oh, he was so exhausted. He'd been fighting for what seemed like an eternity. His arms felt as if they were weighed down by lead. He needed time to be able to catch his breath, to rest. Still, though, he kept fighting.

He was so exhausted that he could hardly make out the incantation that Dolohov spoke, but as the telltale green sparks flew straight for him, any shred of hope Remus had left disintegrated.

For Teddy… For Dora…

Dolohov laughed as the man fell to the ground, lifeless.