Re: Ginny's Death
Al had heard of Dementors several times this week. He'd read of the ways Dementors were supposed to affect any human located in their proximity. Horror. Despair. Depression. Al could list the emotions, the list he compiled from the reading: all the ones he could pinpoint in himself, and the ones which he could only quote along with their definitions. Al saw enough of the dreary fog setting in around the castle along with the rain: through the windows of their bedroom and through the Great Hall's charmed ceiling.
But the weather effects aside, Al hardly noticed the expected chill that one was supposed to experience in Dementors' proximity. He certainly never noticed any of the other symptoms. For brief moments it made him wonder, whether he was invincible to their influence, like Septimus and the rest of the spiders, or whether he was just conveniently numb to the emotions that the Dementors caused.
Until now, anyway. As Jamie's words sunk in, he felt the blood drain from his face and he felt that horrible chill for the first time. Al was cold. Cold and stiff.
"Which room?" he heard himself ask. "Is... Dad there?"