“It’s going to be all right, sir,“ Harry said over and over again, more worried by Dumbledore’s silence than he had been by his weakened voice. “We’re nearly there … I can Apparate us both back … don’t worry …” “I am not worried, Harry,” said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. “I am with you.”
“Every year she makes us a sweater,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.”
The mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.