Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-01-02 20:20:00 |
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4. 5.35pm The Death Eaters Arrive at the DMLE (cont)
Kingsley, Alana, and Leon destroy documents
Alana had been handed a box. Despite her throbbing heart and aching leg, Alana focused on carefully and thoroughly destroying each of the documents filed inside. It was practical, it was simple, and it kept her mind off of the impending arrival of more Death Eaters than even the DMLE could manage. If she thought about it, panic began to rise up in her, and she knew panic was trouble. She had always said so. But it was so much simpler to denounce panic in theory than in practice. Her wand lit the documents, which on any other day would have been classified and interesting, but she had eyes and mind only for the destruction of the information. Every so often, from her little table, she would glance warily to the lift, waiting.
Nothing was happening yet. Kingsley poked his head out the door of the Undersecretaries' office when he first heard shouts to see two wild-looking individuals (one missing a hand) coming through the door from the stairs. They were finally here, and a sick feeling came over him. He turned back to give the undersecretaries a few more instructions before he headed back out into the main floor area of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The two figures he saw were already engaged with others (Elle? Everything was moving so fast it was hard for him to tell), and so he knew more would be coming. He ran over to the stairs, pushing himself flat against the wall between the door to them and the loo, waiting.
Incendio. The small pile of paperwork on Leon's desk went up in flames and he watched it with grim satisfaction, before he was distracted by the arrival of the enemy. They didn't seem to be heading for him though, so quickly, before someone did arrive and make a beeline for him, he gripped his wand tighter and glanced around the hitwizard desks for anything else he could do to help. There was nothing; the only thing left was to take up the call to arms and be ready to fight for his life. This was it. This was what he'd been training for for the last five months (not even six, vaguely he wondered if he was even going to qualify if things were looking this bad) and he could only count on himself if he wasn't going to fuck it all up and die when his son was barely a day old. Sighing, he noticed Kingsley running for the stairs, and decided to head in that direction to join him.
Lach had just placed his journal into the pocket of his horrendous green-and-red robes when the gong started to sound. Everything had started piling into the handbasket headed for hell and it was calling for him to jump in as well. Not if he had anything to say about it. He had rushed to stand in the doorway to the Healers' Offices just in time to see a group destroy and barricade the elevator. Fucking hell that would have been the best way to get out! Even he knew the odds of attempting to use the stairwell and make a mad-dash for the exit. Banging a fist against the doorframe, he ducked back inside as Rufus' orders to destroy all important information rang throughout the room, barging around his co-staff to get to the M-Z files, yanking open the S-V drawer to let it crash on the floor. One swoop of his wand lit the piles of parchment on fire, but Lach paused a moment to make sure Scrimgeour's healing records was definitely in flames before moving on to the others.
Ferdinand vs Alana
As they slid into the room, the papers flying everywhere, Ferdinand wondered for a moment what the three people in question were doing. Then it occurred to him -- they were destroying whatever information they saw too sacred for Death Eaters. He laughed softly and raised his wand, preparing to say something, and then saw her. The girl from Magical Creatures. He smirked. Most of the time, Ferdinand didn't like hurting people, but he had history with this girl now. Pressing his wand against her chest, he said, "You again? Stop what you're doing. Now."
Alana froze, one hand tightening on the side of the document box and the other around her wand, which was lit with an unfinished burning spell. Her breath caught briefly, but she let it out as words, finishing her burning spell on the documents. She stepped backward several times, wand raised and ready.
"Put down your wand," Ferdinand said simply. He was feeling exasperated with this girl. She was young, and probably headstrong, and probably a Gryffindor, and while Gryffindors had their uses... Their stubbornness and bravado was just an irritation in situations like this. He pressed the tip of his wand harder into her breast-bone, glaring down at her through the slits in his mask. "We've already been over this."
Alana was no Gryffindor, but that didn't mean she was going to give up without a fight. Badgers were known, after all, for their tenacity. She wondered briefly why, if the man had her essentially at his mercy, he had not yet hurt her. Well, if he wasn't going to act, she was. It only took a brief twitch of her wand in his direction and a silent spell with nary a sound from her lips. She had been practicing this sort of magic in combat training, and on her own, and now it was time to put it to use. It was an explosive repelling spell and she hoped it would send him flying backwards at least a few metres so she could get further away from him. She didn't like being this close.
Even though he'd been up against Alana before, Ferdinand was surprised at her Badger tenacity, and when he went flying against the nearest wall, hearing a sickening crack that was probably the sound of a rib or two crunching. He was winded and pain was coursing through his chest. "Why, you little..." he began to say. He had slumped to the floor, and slowly he stood up, throwing a silent Blasting Hex at her.
Alana winced very slightly at the crack of his ribs. She hadn't meant to hurt him, not really. But then, why not? It's not as if he'd spare me. She had little time to contemplate this, so instead she focused on incapacitation. There was no need to hurt him any further, even if she wanted to. She just had to keep him from hurting her. However, he was too quick, and she was only able to put up a weak shield before his Blasting Hex hit her low in her abdomen, knocking her off of her feet and onto the floor. She hissed, curling instinctively around crushed lower ribs, and what she thought must be damaged organs underneath. From the ground, she shot off a Stunning Spell and then Protego, just long enough for her to stand shakily again.
"Incarcerous!"
As he saw the ropes shoot from Alana's wand, Ferdinand quickly shouted, "Diffindo!" The ropes fell in pieces on the floor, and he uncomfortably stepped forward and reached out, grabbing her by the arm. He jerked her against him, pressing his wand towards her temple. "Do not fuck with me, little girl," he hissed, his voice sounding more intimidating than he was feeling. He pointed his wand towards her feet and muttered, "Incendio."
She jerked and winced as he manhandled her, looking defiantly, though fearfully, up at him. She was almost certain, as he held her in his grasp, that she was done for, but just as before, the man proved less threatening than he tried to appear, and instead of the death she was sure of, she found herself only with her ankles aflame. Still, she shrieked and delivered a blow to his face before wriggling out of his grasp and spelling water all over her feet. She staggered backward in her effort to put out the fire, but was stopped by the tall, potted greenery required by human resources. Amidst the pain, she got a sudden idea, and skittered behind the plant, hoping it would give her shelter. Then, she began to charm the plant, leaning against the wall for the support her injured leg was unable to give her for much longer. The plant grew, and soon it was climbing out of its pot, a leafy thing of arms and legs. It swung a heavy branch at Ferdinand's head.
Ferdinand tried to duck, but he got a face full of human resources-dictated office plant to the face, and it hurt more than one would think. A branch scraped across his eye -- fuck, that hurt. He growled out, "Repulso!" and the plant flew back in Alana's direction. Any Death Eater worth his salt would have just killed the stupid bitch by now, but the guilt of the man below made him hesitate.
Alana shot a Hover Charm at the plant before it could hit her. She swallowed hard. The plant seemed to be working. If she could just get it to trap him, maybe she could get away and help someone else. She charmed it again. This time it grew thick vines that shot toward Ferdinand, aiming to wrap around his arms and legs.
The vines wrapped around Ferdinand so quickly that he barely had time to react. He actually felt a lick of anger at this girl -- she was frustrating and stubborn and he wasn't entirely sure of how to deal with her. He should have just killed her when he could, but his mercy had been stupid. He was sure that he would end up paying for his stupidity, and as the cords of the plant tightened around his arms and legs, he cursed, "You filthy Mudblood. Sectumsempra!" His aim wasn't good, but he didn't care.
Andrew vs Leon
This wasn't exactly what Andrew had been expecting as far as his first major engagement with the Dark Army went. Something about fighting inside of a government office building had an oddly claustrophobic feel to it that set him on edge, although that would probably be to his advantage once he got far enough past the door at the top of the stairs. From the crack that he could see through, he noticed that someone was approaching, and he -- he seemed tall enough from what he could see to be another man, thank God -- wasn't dressed like the other two wizards he had come up the stairs with.
Usually, he would prefer to think things through before jumping in, but as it was, Andrew only had time to burst through the door and tackle whoever it was before he had a chance to get a first shot in with magic. He knocked the other man onto the ground and dug his claws as deeply as he could into his upper arms to pin him down, then leaned over to try and bite him on the shoulder.
Leon barely had time to decide which of the figures entering the department he would attack before another man came flying at him, knocking him to the ground before his first spell had left his lips. He swore loudly as he hit the floor, twisting on impact so he wouldn't be completely at the mercy of his attacker. And -- shit -- this guy was clearly a werewolf, he had to think fast. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in physical fights from growing up, and with a yell headbutted the werewolf right in the forehead, before those teeth made contact with his flesh.
Pushing against the small space he had gained from the way he had landed, he leapt to his feet, slightly dazed. He shook his head slightly, it was ok, he'd headbutted people before and the feeling had always passed, and readied his wand, taking careful aim. "Depulso!" He planned to keep the werewolf away from him as much as possible, because if it came to more physical fighting, odds are that he would tire much more quickly.
Head-butting was one of the last things that Andrew had expected a wizard, of all people, to do, and all he managed was a rather improper yelp of 'Fuck!' before Leon had slipped out from under him. He had to take a second to clear his head before scrambling back to his feet, but before he could get up, the spell blasted him back some distance. It didn't seem to do much more than that, but he wasn't about to let him have a chance to use one of the more serious hexes he had heard of if he could help it. There had to be something around on the floor he could throw at him to distract him first, given all of the chaos in and out of the offices around them ...
Only a few inches away from him was what looked like a stapler. Andrew quickly reached for it, shouted 'Catch!', and whipped it in Leon's direction before springing back on his feet and sprinting towards him again, hoping to tackle him onto the ground or against a wall. And he was going to do straight for his throat this time.
Knowing he didn't have long until the werewolf attacked again, Leon was about to cast a jelly-legs jinx (it was the first one that came into his head) when the missile came at him. With reflexes born of Quidditch and his more recent hitwizard training, he was able to leap away, ducking slightly and throwing himself to the left. However, the stapler was coming from too close quarters for him to duck away completely, and it caught him a stinging blow on the fingers of his wand hand. His wand going flying to the floor, Leon cursed himself -- why hadn't he used a shield? -- the manoeuvre had been as absolutely effective as a disarming spell.
Jumping backwards as the wolf ran forward, Leon wondered how the fucking fuck he was going to be reunited with his wand. He was against a wall now, he was trapped, he was dead... gritting his teeth and resigning himself to physical combat again, he swung his fist as hard as he could at his attacker, aiming for the jaw.
That had worked much better than Andrew had anticipated, considering he couldn't use magic himself to retaliate as a distance, but any advantage he seemed to have for a moment as he had Leon up against the wall was lost once he had been punched in the fucking face. Honestly, though he preferred that the two of them fight physically because it was the fairer way to do it, this wasn't what he had been expecting at all. Before he could help himself, Andrew let go of Leon and stumbled a few steps backwards. The throbbing pain in his face disoriented temporarily, but he took a few blind swipes with his claws regardless in hopes that at least one of them would land.
Taking advantage of the effect his blow had had, Leon leapt as quickly as he could for his wand, crashing to the floor (the swipes of the werewolf missing him only by a couple of centimetres) and fumbling for the wand. Without wasting time getting to his feet again, although he knew that staying on the floor was not the best battle strategy, he rolled onto his back and aimed his wand straight at Andrew's chest. "Incendio!"
And this was exactly why Andrew was still more intimidated than infuriated by magic like some of the older werewolves were. Yes, it was unsporting, but oh shit did he just set him on fire with fake Latin? Any thoughts of a height advantage over his opponent were forgotten as the front of his torso caught on fire, and with another yelp, he threw himself onto the floor in a desperate attempt to extinguish the flames before they spread. This really wasn't going as well as he thought it would -- and the fire catching along his sleeve wasn't helping to counter that idea (thank God for adrenaline) -- so he started crawling back to the staircase to give himself a moment to recover (mentally, at least), regain some sort of advantage, and, well, just not die less than five minutes into the fight.
Leon was half tempted to leave it at that and go run after someone who wouldn't try to bite him, but he knew that he had to keep at this. This was life and death now, and giving this werewolf time to recover might result in the death of one of his colleagues. He had to keep fighting. As Andrew headed away from him, Leon had a moment to regain his breath and clamber to his feet again, but then he noticed where his opponent was headed for. Oh no you don't. He took aim. "Tarantallegra!" Let's see him attack with dancing legs.
But hang on, he had to be serious here. Dancing spells were all well and good but they never lasted long. Yet something was holding Leon back from sending off some really nasty spells. His opponent didn't have a wand to defend himself, for a start, and he was a human being. But he couldn't be compassionate in battle. This man would kill him given half the chance, and he had to remember that. "Confundo!" Dancing legs and confusion, that should hold his attacker off while he figured out what to do.
Had Andrew not been so pre-occupied with getting the hell out and extinguishing the fire, he would have protested the fact that now his opponent wasn't even using fake Latin anymore, but complete nonsense. As it was, he'd just been about to pull himself up against the door-frame when his legs violently jerked him away from the stairs and -- this couldn't really be happening -- seemed to work themselves into a bizarre dance that he couldn't control.
At least it didn't seem especially harmful, but it was rather undignified. It didn't help that shortly after that, he also suddenly seemed to be confused about where he was and what he was doing. There was another door nearby now and he wasn't sure if it was the right one anymore, but he tried to stumble (as best he could while doing some sort of tap dance anyway) in its general direction, if only to get away somehow.
Trying not to start congratulating himself mentally just yet, Leon watched Andrew dance off with something approaching smugness. He was doing much better so far than he ever thought he would against a werewolf -- or any dark creature for that matter. As Andrew approached the door to the mediwizard station, Leon saw another opportunity and seized it. "Deprimo!" The blasting curse was aimed at the floor just behind the werewolf, with the intention of blasting him through the door and headlong into whatever equipment littered the room beyond. Leon had found himself being patched up in there several times after particularly vigorous training sessions, and he knew it was littered with furniture and equipment that, if not knocking his attacker out, would certainly delay him for a while.
Even though Andrew was still rather confused as to what the hell was going on, Confunded as he was, he was at least able to realise that the blasting curse that exploded behind him had thrown him off his feet and -- oh dear God, no -- was sending him straight for a very solid-looking glass door. It didn't shatter as easily and neatly as he was hoping for given the amount of force, and the sharp edges of the glass lacerated his face, shoulders, and arms -- and to make things even more painful and embarrassing, he just had to crash into what felt like a mess of furniture. Once he had come to a stop, he rolled onto his side (ugh, were there shards of glass in his arm, and did he just crack a rib or two?) and crawled under a nearby bed so he could have a moment to catch his breath. Bloody wizards and their bloody magic.
Rabastan vs Kingsley
Kingsley had been waiting, pressed up against the wall, as he suddenly heard footsteps on the stairs. He wanted to warn the others, but before he could even open his mouth, the door swung open. He'd underestimated his ability to hear through the thick door, and while he thought he had a few more moments, he had been wrong. The door opening had caught him by surprise, but he was already ready for combat, wand out. He could still potentially catch them by surprise, as he'd be behind the Death Eaters as they made it out onto the floor and - Shiiiiit, no. The door didn't open enough and instead of him being able to just attack them from his position, he'd have to move around the door.
"Expelliarmus!" he finally yelled, though by then the element of surprise had been lost.
Catching the movement and the start of the spell, Rabastan scraped by with a shield charm and sent the disarming spell bouncing harmlessly off of him. He had suspected they might be attacked upon entrance, seeing as they were dealing with the Ministry's law enforcement; with care, he remained on his toes, eyes training in on his attacker. What fun.
"Deprimo," Rabastan shot back, slipping to the side to make sure his comrades made it onto the floor easily.
Kingsley tried to dodge the curse, slamming himself back against the wall and backing up a bit, but the curse hit his right elbow (not his wand-arm, thankfully) and a surging pain raced up his arm. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, working to ignore the pain. Just concentrate on the Death Eater right now, he told himself. The figure was tall, maybe even as tall as Kingsley, a thought which registered for a brief second but Kingsley shook it out of his head and tried to concentrate instead on fighting. Maybe someday he'd get better at this, but he hoped he wouldn't ever need to.
Incendio, he cast silently, hoping to set the Death Eater's robes on fire. They had to hold them off.
When the flames ignited, Rabastan's mouth curled into a snarl as he reflexively started back a few steps. Already he could feel the heat starting to singe, so wasting no time to flail about, Rabastan cast a swift Aguamenti, dousing the licking flames before they had time to spread. The silent spell had slipped past his attention -- and he noted the Auror's ability, filing it away in his mind. The same mistakes would not be suffered twice, and he would be keeping a closer eye on the movement of the wand itself, rather than waiting for verbal cues.
"Ah, fire -- charming." Rabastan supposed he would just cool the man off if he was going to play like that, and with a driven swiftness, he shot a whispered freezing charm at the offending Auror.
"Protego," Kingsley replied, figuring there was no need to silently cast a defensive spell. His shield held at first, but the pain in his elbow was distracting him ever so slightly and the Death Eater's charm was strong, and after a moment it gave out, the spell hitting Kingsley's chest. He cursed inwardly as the ice spread over him. He should have practised more, especially after losing that practise duel to Akhil. He shouldn't have lost the element of surprise. Well, hindsight was always 20/20, and Kingsley had to concentrate more on breathing. As he struggled to breathe, he silently cast Deprimo, the only spell he could think of, but with limited mobility of his arms, it was weak.
Shiiiiiiiit.
More than ready for the attack, Rabastan deflected the hex with a shield charm and shot back a finger-removing jinx. Perhaps if the annoying gnat could not hold a wand any longer, he would become less annoying.
Kingsley felt a splitting pain in his hand, and as he watched, a look of horror on his face, the fingers of his left hand turned purple and just... fell off. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before and his wand fell to the ground, lying across his left thumb. He howled in pain, though that hurt too because his chest was encased in a brick of ice. The smell of blood from his elbow flooded Kingsley's nostrils, intense and poignant, and his head felt funny. His face was hot and he almost felt like he was going to throw up, but he couldn't.
A feeling of vague satisfaction settled over Rabastan when the spell connected. There was a significant lack of excitement that came with rendering one's victim wandless and suffering, but he supposed it was time for playtime to end soon, as they were on a mission. But the pest would be dead soon enough. Lifting his wand again, he shot a Crucio at the other man: it always served as a nice round off before death, if he did say so.
Kingsley screamed this time (like a girl, slightly, or so he would probably joke if he just chatting with some friends and not being tortured) as the room went fuzzy and an intense shock shot throughout his entire body, more excruciating than anything he could remember. While he knew that others in the office had been subject to the Cruciatus Curse at some point in this war, Kingsley had been lucky enough in his three years of training and four months of full Aurorship to avoid it, but he knew exactly what it was the moment it hit him. Ever atom of him seemed to be screaming out in pain and though his head was knocking backward against the wall, he couldn't feel that over the curse.
Rabastan (and Ferdinand) vs Alana
Despite the undeniable success of the writhing, however, Rabastan's attention was pulled just across the area to where a plant attacking Ferdinand -- and it seemed as though the plant was winning. The Auror did not seem to be in a state of going anywhere, and the fun could be postponed just long enough to clean up the little mess. Ceasing the curse, Rabastan lifted his eyebrows beneath his mask and shot a blasting hex square at Kingsley's chest, sending him soaring against a nearby wall.
Now it was time for Ferdie. The girl (practically a child, from the looks of it) was standing on the offense, and he could not help but scoff, uncertain if he felt more amused or exasperated by the situation.
"We are supposed to be killing the little gnats, friend. Not admiring the greenery," Rabastan drawled, weaving his way over to where the plant was clinging and constricting Ferdinand. Keeping an eye on Alana to make certain she wasn't plan on attempting any sort of surprise attack while he was distracted, Rabastan cast a swift slicing spell, reducing the plant cords to shreds. It was not wholly successful at first as more shots clung to their unfortunate victim, but Rabastan wasted no time in casting another short series of severing hexes until the plant stilled and dropped.
As the plant fell to the floor, dead, Ferdinand shook the vines off of his robes. "Thank you. It's a shame that this girl's creativity is lost on a blood traitor. " He shot a couple of Killing Curses at her, hoping that at least one of them would hit and this annoying gnat of a girl would be taken care of.
Although Alana had stood frozen for several moments, mind left terrified and scrambling at the idea of facing two Death Eaters, especially when one of them had left Kingsley on the floor screaming. She was torn between attacking Rabastan and going to Kingsley's aid. As such, she was unable to do either in time, and soon she was once again the focus of Ferdinand's attention. She dropped to the floor out of reflex and scrabbled backward on the floor, heart throbbing in her throat. Panic was gripping her unwilling mind, and she clumsily attempted to push herself up off the floor. Unfortunately, she had further damaged her badly bruised leg in her fall and it would not support her. She hissed in pain and fired off poorly-aimed Stunning Spells, and a final, last-ditch attempt at charming the plant into bothering Ferdinand once again.
Leaving Ferdinand to fend for himself for a moment longer, Rabastan focused his attentions on the scrambling girl. He did not consider a little girl to be anything he could not end quickly, but his fun with the Auror had been cut short -- perhaps it was simply time for a transfer. If she wished to be an annoyance, he would give her the attention she so clearly deserved.
Rabastan started off with a well-aimed Furnunculus. Everything hurt just a little bit more when boils were brought into the picture, after all.
Alana felt the boils crawl over the skin of her arm, and pop up all over the skin of her shoulder and back. "Aah!" She winced and immediately went to touch the places that hurt, which only seemed to make it worse. Still, though, the discomfort of the boils was nothing compared to what she knew could come if she didn't get away, and so she tried again to get to her feet, sending a blasting hex in Rabastan's direction. Unfortunately, as it went careening toward him, it also knocked her backward, and this time she had a feeling she was staying down.
Although Rabastan was unable to completely dodge the blast, a swiftly cast shield charm once again spared him the majority of the harm, rendering a rib-shattering spell into what would likely be a mere bruise on his arm. With the girl down on the ground, he could not help but think this was far too easy -- and that it was almost a pity that he did not feel badly in the least.
Not quite a pity, however. Wasting no time, Rabastan followed up with an entrail-expelling curse and felt the satisfaction of knowing that no one could last very long (or very comfortably) when their insides were suddenly on the outside.
It was then that Alana was almost certain she was going to die. Unable to roll out of the way or cast more than a meager shielding charm, she felt her abdomen ripped open with force, and howled with pain that blinded her and had her curling around herself protectively, but it was too late. Her hands reached to probe the damage, her fingers quick and trembling, and with horror she felt hot, wet blood and a squishy substance that muzzy eyes finally perceived as her own intestines spilling out of her. She gagged, head reeling, and retched, which only caused her terrible suffering and a half-yell, half-sob. She had dropped her wand in shock and her searching fingers could not find it as they slid over the blood pouring from her.
To leave her as she was seemed as though it would likely lead to death easily enough, but to polish off the job, Rabastan cast a swift and pointed Sectumsempra. Innards and blood were hardly what one would call aesthetically pleasing, but he felt the job was suitable enough. The time had come to start making his way to the Portkey for Azkaban, so he would leave her to drown in her own blood and agony. Altogether a productive day, he had to say.
She could not have imagined more pain than she was in, but it came. She had only the energy for a hoarse, sharp bark of a cry as she raised her hand against the spell, and it split open unknown seams along what whole skin was left of her abdomen, and lanced across her turned side. They were less severe than they might have been, for as she stretched her fingers out the spell sheared them, so that all that was left of her right hand was a bloody thumb and the stubs of four fingers now littered on the floor. She pulled her wounded hand to her chest, cradling it as she curled in her cold, dark dizziness and waited to die.
Andrew vs Kingsley
Kingsley was scrambling. He'd lain there where Rabastan left him for as long as it took for him to come back to his senses, then somehow managed to grab his wand and crawl into the mediwizard station and collapsed there for a bit longer. When the room stopped spinning and he began to see again, he forced himself to get up. There were potions here, and he quickly found (and drank) a pain potion, but that only offered some relief - his ribs were still cracked. There was Skele-gro someplace in this mediwizard station, and he was going to find it. He'd tried to heal the wound on his elbow a bit but the angle was awkward since he was now using his right hand, and it felt a bit better, but his broken ribs hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. At least he couldn't feel the missing fingers. He'd emptied out two cupboards already and reached to open a third. Nearly frantic, he rummaged through the contents for the familiar bottle, wand clenched between his teeth. He needed to get back out there - the Death Eaters were still coming and people could be dying out there. He'd seen Alana Fenwick - she wasn't even DMLE and likely didn't have the skills to protect herself like the others could, and if Kingsley, who'd had three years of training, could be hurt that badly, someone without the training would be worse off.
Ah! Finally! He grabbed the bottle of Skele-gro - but how much to take? Furiously reading the instructions on the back, he realised he didn't have anything to measure with. Ah, well, he'd just guess. He started to take off the cap, trying to hold the bottle with his stumpy hand and twist the cap with the other, when -
-- someone jumped onto him from behind, shoving him forward into lower cupboards and sinking his teeth as deeply as he could into his shoulder. Andrew had no idea if this was the same person he had attacked before -- as it was, he was still a bit disoriented from the fading Confundus Charm -- but he did know that he was now pissed off after having been set on fire and blasted through a fucking door without his opponent ever having to touch or get near him. As long as this was someone on the other side, then he was content to take his anger out on him.
Kingsley yelped, though with his wand in his mouth he almost choked. The Auror stumbled as he tried to shake him off while keeping his balance, bottle of Skele-gro forgotten, but though he could tell the creature (as it had to be a dark creature if it bit like that) was starting to lose its grip, he couldn't shake him off. He could get his wand though, and so Kingsley grabbed the wand with his right hand (not his wand-hand) and tried to aim it at his back, silently shooting Jelly-Arms and Jelly-Legs curses at the creature.
Andrew tried to pull himself up again as he slipped -- which was a bit difficult when he no longer had any momentum and couldn't push off the floor -- but he let go completely in surprise and collapsed onto the ground when he tried to step up onto the back of Kingsley's leg and found that his own wobbled uncontrollably under the pressure. That, and something about his arms didn't feel quite right, but they didn't seem quite as useless as his legs now were. He hadn't had the good sense to keep his teeth clamped on the other's man shoulder and rip off any muscle as he let go, but he had a second chance as he pulled himself forward on the floor with his arms (which definitely seemed softer than he remembered them being) and tried to bite the leg nearest to him.
Kingsley felt teeth sink into his leg, but this time he could see the creature. A boy about Kingsley's age, it seemed. He looked human, aside from the fact that he was chomping on Kingsley's leg, though he looked hurt and singed. There was no time for pity though, and he pointed the wand straight at the boy's head, holding steady despite the weight unfamiliar in his right hand. "Don't move a muscle or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out," he said, hesitating a bit at hurting someone who was nearly his age.
Even though there were lots of things that Andrew still didn't understand about magic, the idea that a wizard could do exactly as Kingsley had said with not much more than a few words and what seemed like an otherwise harmless piece of wood was one thing that he was well-aware of. Then again, it did seem like a rather absurd request to him, given the circumstances, but perhaps he could ...
'I doubt this is terribly comfortable for you,' he said, surprisingly posh voice muffled since he still had his teeth in the other man's leg. Hopefully that would throw him off for a moment -- he had to do this very quickly, since he was absolutely certain that he could and would blow his brains out with magic as he had threatened -- and then he bit down harder and pulled away, ripping out a part of Kingsley's leg as he did so. Disgusting, but it seemed to work, and once he had spat it out, he turned and tried to crawl back to the door -- which was harder than he thought it would be, given how his limbs were still oddly jelly-like.
Kingsley roared - partially from the pain and partially from the fury at this boy with his funny proper voice tearing off another piece of his body. He ached all over, since the pain potion could only do so much, and felt like he was going to collapse at any moment, but before he did that he knew he couldn't let this boy get away with what he did and go hurt others. "Crucio! he shouted, the first curse coming into his head. Aurors were authorised to use Unforgivables in life or death situations, and Kingsley saw this entire attack as life or death. While he had hoped to never use one, those thoughts were forgotten as he cursed the creature. "Crucio," he said again, this time with a bit less ferocity. "Not the worst pain I've had all day," he muttered in reply to Andrew's previous comment, "but not comfortable."
That was definitely not fake Latin, if Andrew correctly remembered his Latin lessons from school for that brief second of recognition before the curse hit him with full force. Excruciating pain wasn't exactly new to him, given what the monthly transformations into a werewolf were like, but he had not been mentally prepared for something new like this. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, if he could even describe what it felt like in words, and no matter how much he screamed, convulsed, and clawed at the floor and himself while it lasted, it wouldn't go away. The pain did fade on its own a few moments later (though it felt like longer), but by then, he was too exhausted and sore to do anything other than lie on the ground and hope that Kingsley wasn't really going to come over and finish him off.
Kingsley didn't want to finish anyone off, at least not personally. He would if he had to, since that was the vow he made when he agreed to serve the Ministry, but luckily for Andrew, Kingsley didn't have much of a fight left in him. The Cruciatus had took a lot out of him and he was really feeling it now. He didn't want to just leave the boy - creature - boy there since he was still a threat, but Kingsley would not kill him. He muttered a quick Incarcerous Charm, and ropes suddenly appeared and wound themselves around Andrew.
There.
Well, it certainly could have been worse. That said, Andrew wasn't going to push his luck and throw some sort of fit about how he was going to break through the ropes and kill him this time, seeing as he was sure he wouldn't be able to live up to that threat. For now, he was just going to hope that one of the Death Eaters or other Dark Army members would be clever enough to check the room and do something about the rather undignified situation. And possibly move him elsewhere, since broken glass was awfully uncomfortable to lie on top of.
Kingsley took a few steps backward and let the wall help him stand up. He couldn't go back and fight, so instead he just had to wait and see if the DMLE could get the anti-Apparation wards off. Then he could go home, even if it meant risking a splinch. He sighed, trying very hard not to think about his wounds or who outside that door was dead. Kingsley did his job.
Ferdinand vs Leon
Well, Leon was pretty impressed with the way he had handled that werewolf, if he did say so himself. But it was no time to rest on his laurels, this fight wasn't over yet. Spinning on his heel and scanning the room for the next major threat to him, his eyes fell on the nearest hooded figure, grappling with a plant. While Leon had never seen the need for the greenery that Human Resources forced on the department, he was grateful for it in this instance. Pointing his wand at the Death Eater, he advanced forward a couple of steps before firing off his first spell. "Expelliarmus!" It probably wouldn't be enough, and not wanting this fight to last longer than it needed to, he followed it up with a couple of stunners, readying himself for the retaliation as soon as the jets of red light had left his wand.
Ferdinand swore as his wand flew out of his hand and knocked off the wall nearest to him. Thank Merlin it hadn't gone further. He quick-stepped to dodge the red flashes erupting around him. He was lucky -- if one had hit, he'd be done for. Scrambling for his wand, he closed it in his fist as he rolled to avoid a Stunner that grazed his ear. Panting, he rose to his feet. This tumbling and dodging thing was a lot more difficult than it looked. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, "Confringo," aiming his wand at the Hitwizard.
The retaliation came just as expected, and as Leon cast a shield charm over himself he mentally made a note to improve his aim. However, despite his best intent and the force he put into the defence spell, the fight against the werewolf had tired him out, and his shield barely held. The blasting curse wasn't entirely reflected and it grazed his leg as it passed. Leon swore as he felt blood run down his calf and gritted his teeth against the pain. Time to play bad cop. Aiming two more stunners to either side of the Death Eater, he bellowed "Incarcerous!" afterwards, this time aiming straight for his opponent's chest. If any of those spells hit, it would be just great. Really.
For the second time in a day, ropes came flying at Ferdinand -- this was frustrating. They were so predictable. He dodged the Stunners and the ropes hit the bruises from where the plant had squeezed him. His arms and ribs hurt. This entire thing was more trouble than it was worth, he thought, and he cast a silent Diffindo so that the ropes fell to the ground, along with a few pieces of his robes. Angry, he twirled his wand between his fingers, glaring at the troublesome Hitwizard through the slits in his mask. It was easy to be intimidating through the mask. His wand steady, he hissed, "Crucio." Even if it didn't hit, it would show that he meant business.
In the middle of casting another stunner to subdue his (partially) captured opponent, the last syllable died on Leon's lips as Ferdinand's curse caught him completely unawares and hit him in the centre of his chest. Obviously the Cruciatus curse had not been demonstrated in his training, and nothing he had read about it prepared him for what was about to follow. A strangled yell left his mouth, half pain, half shock, and he dropped to the floor, his every nerve ending on fire. Trying to keep a clear head was not easy, and his cries continued to ring out. He was going to die, this Death Eater was going to kill him, he was going to die. As the curse faded away, he panted heavily, then experimentally tried moving his arm. The movement brought his wand into view and with a jolt, he remembered again what he was supposed to be doing. Pointing the wand at his attacker, he cast the first spell that came to mind, the one that had been so useful against the werewolf earlier. "Incendio." The spell was muttered, but his tone was hard, and a jet of flame flew towards Ferdinand.
Guilt washed over Ferdinand as he heard the man's screams (however irritating it was), and he was glad when the spell and his yells ceased. He hated that curse, but it had been necessary. Quicker than he expected, he saw the flames come at him and tried to dodge. It caught the back of his robes and they expoded into flames. Ferdinand's screams echoed Leon's as he felt the fire lick the skin of his legs. The pain was unbearable, for a moment, he completely forgot any spell that would douse the them, and after much longer than it should have taken, he shouted, "Aguamenti" and the flames hissed with smoke as they went out. The acrid smell of burning flesh entered his lungs and he wished, for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, that he was not at the Ministry assisting the take-over. This was serious now. He sent several Killing Curses towards Leon -- green flashes of light exploded around him. He prayed one hit.
The time that the Death Eater spent flailing round on fire gave Leon time to climb unsteadily to his feet and take a few deep breaths. His body ached, echoes of the Cruciatus curse still rushing through his every cell. He didn't trust himself to cast a strong enough shield charm, so quickly he cast about himself for something to act as a shield. The nearby door the Wizengamot administration office was slightly ajar, and he summoned a table through it, placing it in front of him. And not a minute too soon -- Killing Curses filled the air, and Leon yelped, ducking down and flicking his wand so the top of the table covered him better. One well-placed jet of light hit his make-shift shield, breaking it cleanly into several small pieces. Protecting his head against the wood raining down on him, Leon leapt again to his feet, summoning all his reserves of energy into some semblance of a counter-attack. He would have vastly preferred taking on the Death Eater with his fists, but since he couldn't get near without being hit by something or other, this would have to do. "Depulso!" The shards of the table flew at his opponent, and Leon followed it up with several jelly-fingers jinxes.
Leon's spell hit Ferdinand squarely in the chest and he fell back, throwing out his arm to break his fall. There was a sickening crack -- the sound must have been the breaking of his arm. Pain coursed through his wand arm, and he yelled, "Fuck!" He was winded and now three of four limbs were injured. He tried to hold his arm steady and he muttered a feeble, "Expulso." Tears stung at his eyes, from the pain, and he was feeling resigned to not beating this stupid, stupid, irritating Hitwizard.
Leaping back and casting another shield charm meant that Leon dodged being hit by Ferdinand's spell, but it instead hit the floor around his feet, which immediately exploded. Feeling himself leave the floor, Leon flailed around in mid air as he was flung backwards into the mediwizard station and collided with a table. Winded, he clambered to his feet again, wincing as he put weight on his already injured leg. Deciding that he should switch to non-verbal spells to really tip the scales in his favour, he waved his wand, thinking the spell in his head. Nothing happened. Cursing the fact he hadn't practised that bit as much as he should have done, he pointed his wand back towards the Death Eater, through the werewolf shaped hole in the door. "Avis!" A flock of birds burst out of the end of his wand, flying straight toward his attacker.
His arms (one broken and searing with pain) over his head, Ferdinand rushed away, the birds tearing at the skin of his arms and face. As he ran away (feeling like the coward that he was), he fell over the broken remnants of the potted plant and onto the ground. Instinct made him throw out his arm again, but there was a horrible scream of pain as his already broken bone pierced through the skin of his arm. His ribs crunched against the ground. Ferdinand had never been in this much pain. He couldn't have so much as imagined being this much pain before. His arm was now bleeding profusely. His legs were still burning, his ribs were now crushed. He couldn't have even Apparated himself away if he needed to.
Thanking whoever was listening that he was still alive, Leon straightened his robes and looked around him, wincing again. With a start he noticed that he was not alone -- Kingsley was standing against the wall, looking very much the worse for wear. And tied up at his feet... Leon groaned inwardly. He had blasted the werewolf straight into a battle with his colleague. Well, he was going to have to sort this out. Hobbling over to Kingsley, Leon aimed a kick at the werewolf on the floor as he passed. "I'm getting you out of here, man," he told Kingsley, trying to sound more confidant than he was about the whole situation. "There's nothin' else we can do here, like."
To Part 5