Would It Hurt To Die?

The Scar Had Not Pained Harry For Nineteen Years. All Was Well.

And Now A Chill Settled Over Them Where They Stood, And Harry Heard The Rasping Breath Of The Dementors That Patrolled The Outer Trees. They Would Not Affect Him Now. The Fact Of His Own Survival Burned Inside Him, A Talisman Against Them, As Though His Father's Stag Kept Guardian In His Heart.

The Stories We Love Best Do Live In Us Forever.

You Can Exist Without Your Soul, You Know, As Long As Your Brain And Heart Are Still Working. But You’ll Have No Sense Of Self Anymore, No Memory, No . . . Anything. There’s No Chance At All Of Recovery. You’ll Just — Exist. As An Empty Shell. And Your Soul Is Gone Forever . . . Lost.

She's As Nutty As Squirrel Poo.