It was a pleasure to die.
The striking onslaught of sudden death only lasted a second; the fear and distress lasting even shorter. After that, it was quick and easy, like falling asleep. Everything ceases to exist until you are left with nothing between you and death. There is no physical pain or discomfort, no anxiety or distress – there is nothing. It is just you and your last breath of life.
And then it's all gone. Your last breath has been cut short and you are nothing more than anything. The last string that attached you to the earth has been strung. There is no more pain and no more sorrow, no more terror and no more fear, for how can there be something like that when there is nothing at all?
There was only peace and oblivion – sweet, wonderful oblivion. The war that you spent the last five years of your life fighting – the sadness, the grief, the pain turns to relief, for it is all disappeared as well.
It was a pleasure.
From then on, no one is sure what happens. The life after death is still a mystery. And yet, you wonder – how could I know such aspects of death if I live? How could I know the relief and pleasure, yet sorrow and pain it brings?
It is because I, James Potter, have died.
And I, James Potter, have returned.