Chapter Text
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories which become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one age, called the Fifth Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the magical world of Britain, a land hidden from sight to all but the blessed.
“Has the madness taken you already?” Archie hissed at her, slapping a hand across her mouth. “We cannot speak of this here.” Harry licked his hand, for all that she agreed, and her cousin pulled his hand back in disgust. The two made their way into Harry’s bedroom, and closed the door. Assuming this was sufficient, Harry went to open her mouth, when Archie shot her a sharp look, and she closed it again.
Goosebumps rose over her whole body, and she felt the slightest tingle at the back of her neck. It would have been easy enough to ignore if her dresser hadn’t slid in front of the door. Archie had used saidin to block the door, and likely to cast silencing wards as well.
Of course, she couldn’t see him use the male half of the source, any more than he could see her use the female half, but the slight, easily ignorable feeling she got whenever he used the power was enough for her to know.
Archie finally finished fussing with the power and turned to her expectantly. She raised a single, mocking eyebrow, and was answered with a scowl.
“Better safe than sorry, Harry, you know that. What we speak of–what you would have me do–is unthinkable. I almost think you touched by that madness to even suggest such a thing.”
“I am already mad Arch, you know this. Merely existing as I do is enough to fill me with the taint. The question is not if I’m mad, the question is how mad am I?” She could tell Archie didn’t like that answer, much the way all men were discomfited but the reminder of the female madness. If she were being perfectly honest, Harry was uncomfortable as well. It was hard to fathom that one day soon, if she were not very careful, she would lose herself entirely.
The taint in the female half of the power was old—so old that most cannot remember a time when women could access it without the madness setting in. Harriet knew this, knew in her bones that touching the one power would slowly drive her insane, slowly drive her away from home and family and all she’d ever known. But the seductive embrace of saidar as it filled and surrounded her was impossible to ignore.
Archie couldn’t–or perhaps wouldn’t–understand why she needed the power, why she couldn’t consent to be bound like her mother or worse, cut off from the source completely. Female wielders, after all, were dangerous.
“Archie, please just consider it. I’ve told my parents I’ll willingly elect to attend AIM to be fitted and trained in the art of linking. You could easily go in my stead and enter the healer track instead of the nursing one. We could both be happy.” She could see he wanted to agree, wanted to follow his heart towards healing, but duty held him back from agreeing. The void which male users entered to access saidin, the complete and utter separation from emotion it required, kept Archie’s own desires at bay whenever he chose to enter it.
“And what will you do at Hogwarts? If you’re taking my place it’s not as though you can enter the cloisters. It’s a proper magic school, Harry, where they train Aes Sedai. You will not be able to maintain the illusion, not when they can merely look at you and see you are not channeling from the male half of the source.” But Harry had thought of that.
“I’ll tell them I’ve blocked myself from the source due to childhood trauma related to—” Here she cut herself off. Perhaps saying it was too insensitive. Perhaps saying it would only turn Archie against her. “All I want is to learn potions. The amount of the power potions take is minimal, I’m sure I can get away with it.”
Archie remained silent. The prickling feeling faded, and he let out a heavy sigh as emotion returned.
“And if even that much power allows the taint to overtake you? If you go mad and hurt all those around you? We cannot risk another Bellatrix.”
“It is not your responsibility to worry about those students Archie.”
“I’m not just worried about them” His voice was a too-quiet wisp, saying everything and nothing all at once. Harry felt herself soften.
“You needn’t worry for me—” Archie’s features hardened.
“I will not lose another to the taint, Harry! How can you ask me to stand by and watch you surrender? Either it kills you, or we lose you to a fate worse than death. And if that happens—”
“It will be Dad’s responsibility to kill me then, not yours. You’ve not declared for an Ajah, and certainly not for the Red.” Cool, calm, collected, Harry reminded herself. Tuck your emotions where none can find them. Seek the void.
Archie’s pain welled from his eyes, aching suffering painted across his features, and Harry forced herself to remain as unmoved as she could manage.
“I’ll still have to watch you die.”
The guilt hit Harry, then, in full force. Losing Diana to the taint had been hard for her and her mother both. In that moment when she passed, they both felt the spark that connected Diana to the source leave. But for Archie—
“Please, Archie. I’ll be careful. What awaits me otherwise?”
A life chained and bound. A life cut off from the source. A life where her power may only be used in fits and bursts, and only when commanded. Essentially a damane, in all but name.
She knew she’d won when the line across his shoulders softened, and he came to lie next to her on the bed.
“If we doom you either way,” Archie said, sadness imbuing his voice, “We may as well make a splash.”
Harry smiled and held him close. There would be time yet for Archie to teach her what he knew of the male half of the source, time yet to find ways to appear male in her channeling, time yet to work on the millions of small parts to their intricate ruse. She might well lose herself to the madness, but at least she would be free.