Auror Academy Attack

[batshitscary]

~ Not far across the city from the Ministry, the students at the Auror Academy are reaching the end of their day. Nothing too remarkable has happened aside from one trainee missing a hex and having to spend the rest of their marksmanship lesson covered in pulsing boils - Moody's policy that if you make a mistake you suffer the consequences

Comments

[notquitefacist]

*when he makes the trip over to the Auror Academy, Crouch Sr. usually times it with the end of lunch so he can be seen but no one will stop him, they have there own places to be - there was a time when being a seen involved in the trainees educations was a definite smart step in his career, but that time has passed and he has moved on to bigger fish - today, however, he was late, and he is just looking over the last of Moody's reports when the lights go out*

[jrisamadhatter]

*Barty has had quite the adventure, his side is bleeding slightly - though it's a welcome injury considering how close he came to being vaguely chunky paint on the wall, he has no idea how he lost Mad Eye Moody - he certainly didn't run away, nonetheless, somehow he's been pushed from the battle as the attack spreads out and now he's lost in the halls, attempting to find some proper action - he's quite oblivious to the grand opportunity about to present itself*

[notquitefacist]

*Crouch Sr. sighs with so much negativity only a man of his character can do it and make it sound so disgusted, then he lights his wand and goes to the office door*

[jrisamadhatter]

*Barty is quick to catch sight of the light at the end of the hall, his own wand isn't lit - he's used to navigating in the dark, what with the amount of late night sneaking he's done in the past, thus he's near invisible in the shadows*

[notquitefacist]

*he stops at the door to listen, father and son waiting in silence, and as a boom comes from the next floor the wandlight immediately goes out*

[jrisamadhatter]

*Barty creeps forward, the swishing of his robes damningly loud in the wake of the explosion, soon though another sounds, having detonated at the opposite end of the long corridor - the glare silhouettes Crouch Sr.'s lean frame, and, unbeknownst to Barty, illuminates his own bone-white mask*

[notquitefacist]

*in the brief glimpse Barty gets of his father he doesn't appear particularly ready to attack, but as the light fades away something whizzes past Barty, a sizzle of electricity missing him by not more than half a foot and smarting the wall beside him*

[jrisamadhatter]

*this has been what Barty has always waited for - well, it's felt like he's always been waiting, in truth it's only been several months since the realization that he could truly, really end his father's life entered into his conciousness - he's been practising hard, he feels more ready then he'll ever be - a brilliant red Cruciatis curse sails toward where he suspects his father to be standing*

[notquitefacist]

*the glass pane in the office door shatters but Crouch Sr. is nowhere to be seen*

[jrisamadhatter]

*a moment of disconcerting silence passes before tremendous pain blossoms in Barty's left arm, he cries out - a dumb move because it merely serves to alert Crouch Sr. that his guesswork is correct*

[notquitefacist]

*at the noise, conjured ropes whip through the air along the the same wall as Barty and Crouch Sr. pulls open a door to serve as a shield*

[jrisamadhatter]

*Barty has enough foresight at least to expect the vines, he presses himself against opposite wall, attempting to avoid their grasping feelers - it's difficult to tell how far they go, and with his position already compromised, there's no use in hiding in the dark, little white orbs shoot from his wand, they look rather comically harmless, like glowing bubbles, but they serve to illuminate the hallway, leaving nothing hidden*

[notquitefacist]

*Crouch Sr. leans out from behind his makeshift door-shield and turns his wand on the Death Eater, he may not have been the most athletic or imposing of his class when he was a trainee but when marksmanship is concerned he has never been anything but top notch, he doesn't bother with basic stunning, the jet of red thrown Barty's way is intended to stop him much more permanently*

[jrisamadhatter]

*Barty has to literally fling himself aside in order to avoid the curse, a good portion of the wall behind him liquefies, revealing the piping within as wood and plaster turns into an impossible steaming viscous puddle, he sends a bone-warping curse in reply, his mask muffling the incantation, disguising his voice*

[notquitefacist]

*the door is the unlucky victim of Barty's curse, groaning as it twists like a leprous limb*

[jrisamadhatter]

*fires off three Crucios (which are of dubious quality considering his thrown concentration) in quick succession as his father's shield whithers*