Cinderella? Snow White? What's that? An illness? - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

"So that's little Scorpious. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank god you've inherited your mother's brains."

"Hermione was screaming again: the sound went through Harry like physical pain."

"He felt his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. How strange that in his dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping him alive. But it would have to stop, and soon. Its beats were numbered. How many would there be time for, as he rose and walked through the castle for the last time, out into the grounds and into the forest?"

"Great, tell me when you've defeated Voldemort for me, will you?"

"Does it hurt?"The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Dying? Not at all,"said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."