The Meeting hall is filled with screams and the carpet stained with blood. A small, slightly-melted telephone rest in near a window. Light slices through the thick dust cloud from a gaping hole in the wall. The house shakes and on the floor above, someone falls to the ground with a thud. Shreds of burning wallpaper falls through the air, singing ends of hair and skin.
You would hear the yells from above, and order members would rush to exit, heading down onto this floor. The heat would be stifling, and smoke would begin to fill the floor limiting visibility. Between the heat and the smoke, it is not possible to concentrate enough to apparate out. Flaming serpents would trail down the staircase, lighting everything they touch on fire, and snappin gat those closest to them.