Lily Potter’s tired eyes glazed over as she stared at the paper. “Merlin’s beard. An assault in the ministry.” Normally she would have shouted, or yelled. But her voice came out as a croak. She drank again, the potion’s effects filling her with a short burst of strength that dwindled into nothing. It was like fanning a fire with no wood left to burn, foolish.

How long had it been? Days, months, years? Lily wasn’t sure. Her sense of time had slipped into the papers she passed along before she realized what was happening. Page after page now marked the last memory of order and sanity. Three thousand four hundred and seventy eight, nine now. Had the report’s number not clearly been marked by Rufus’ pristine bookkeeping, she would not have remembered.

Lily drank more, but this time the potion felt bitter on her tongue. It tasted like water long gone bad, worn from the passage of time. She fought the urge to vomit. If she did, the potion would leave her stomach, and she could not afford to pass out.

Rings of black circled her saggy eyes, which drooped with exhaustion. If James saw her now he might think that she was an Inferi. But he would kiss her anyway, she hoped at least. Merlin knew she needed them. Her back was slumped in a half asleep posture, and she saw black spots whenever she blinked.

Rufus had looked majestic with his strong and unyielding face, but no longer. His golden mane was in tatters, and he gave the impression of a disheveled kitten roused too early. His back was straight, but his eyes were tired, maybe more than hers. Sleep was a distant memory to her, but at least she had not collapsed before. He needed the potions, but then, everyone did.

“If Voldemort is coming, we are dead.” He said. He seemed too tired to think straight, but Lily didn’t blame him. No sane man would speak his name, but Rufus seemed insane from the lack of sleep.

Lily tried to blink herself awake only to drop deeper into her desk. “Preparations? What have we prepared?” She asked, her voice slurring as stars began appearing in her head.

“We have enough wizards to keep a constant Skyshield charm. If need be, they can use stunning spells. But we would be at a severe disadvantage against death eaters, I’m afraid.” Rufus said, grabbing her shoulders and lifting her up.

“Authorize the use of all magic in defense against the Death Eaters. Teach our recruits the use of the unforgivable curses.” Lily said, shaking herself awake.

Rufus nodded with a grimace. “It will be done.” He said. “But that may not be enough.”

Lily gritted her teeth, fighting the darkness that tried to push her consciousness into sleep. “What else can we do?” She asked, digging her nails into her palms.

“The killing curse is far more reliant on practice. The Death Eaters have the advantage in open combat. If we face them, we will probably lose. If we do manage to win, they can simply disapparate. Or Voldemort can use his dark magic to resurrect them.” He said.

“A lie. That is a lie! Voldemort is not stronger than death. He cannot possibly be. It’s a trick of dark magic, reanimation of flesh.” Lily said.

“What if it is not?” Rufus asked. Lily paused, and sighed.

“Then we have no hope of winning.” She said.

“We do not, unless we can ambush them.” Lily’s head jerked up.

“Explain.” She demanded.

“What if one of us goes to the death eaters? Plants information and gives them intelligence on how to pass through the ministry unnoticed. Blind spots, all while under the influence of the truth serum?”

Lily swallowed. “They would need to convince the death eaters, and resist the truth serum. Who could do such a thing?”

“Moody.” Rufus replied. “He’s a skilled occlumens, and suggested the plan. We did a test, he can resist the serum.”

“The death eaters would not trust him.” Lily said.

“Unless he was under the imperius curse.” Rufus replied.

Lily flinched. “We cannot ask this from him!” She gasped, horrified.

“No, we cannot. He volunteered.” She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out.

Lily slumped. “If there are no other options. I suppose we have to. For the greater good.” She conceded.

“For the greater good.” He echoed.