Would it hurt to die? - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

"So why in the name of Merlin’s saggy left —”“Don’t talk to your mother like that."

"How in the name of Merlin's pants have you managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?"

"Seventeen, eh!"said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred."Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?""Vaguely,"said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?""I forge’ the details,"Hagrid chortled."

"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?"

"No - no - no!"someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face."