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“I’m twelve, but with less help.”
Those damned words keep repeating in Susan's head throughout the rest of the week. She can't sleep, she can't eat, she can't even go to the bloody loo for a cry to let out all of her misery without hearing Harry's words knocking around in her head, repeating endlessly in a loop of helplessness.
No one in the gang is doing any better than her, but neither are they worse off - with the exception of, perhaps, Snape. It serves the bastard right, though, as far as she's concerned, for not believing Harry. He can choke on all of his guilt for all she cares.
By the time she reaches her breaking point, feeling as if she'll burst out of her skin and explode in hundreds of tiny chunks of meat all over the Great Hall if she doesn't do something, Harry has been in Azkaban for a week and a half. That's a week and half more than he should've spent in that hellhole.
She feels… not exactly helpless but brimming with frustration that despite all of the gang's work to track down the real culprit, despite Susan running herself ragged interviewing everybody and getting a confession out of Crabbe, it's still not enough. Harry is still being kept in that wretched place. He's still being tortured needlessly (not that Susan is okay with Harry being tortured period, deserved or not). It feels like this bone deep ache has settled in her chest permanently. She ignores the others' concerned glances every time she rubs at her chest with a frown.
When the two week mark rolls around, Susan finally snaps.
She's pretending to eat in the Great Hall, pushing food around her plate - is Harry getting anything to eat in Azkaban? Probably not. How can she eat anything when her soulmate is being starved physically and emotionally in a locked, filthy cell miles and miles away from her? - and glaring daggers at Dumbledore, wishing his beard would catch fire and burn him to a crisp. She doesn't even try to hide her expression. Let the bastard know his days are numbered.
She's debating getting up from the table and going for a walk around the grounds to find some unsuspecting tree to take her anger out on when she overhears the Weasley chit talking loudly to her classmates.
"I've been saying that he isn't right in the head," she says with entirely too much affectation in her voice. Susan would gladly dispose of her vocal chords to stop that agitating, grating sound from ever reaching her ears again. "It's a good thing they're keeping him in Azkaban. I hope he rots in there."
"That's it!" she snaps, banging her palms on the table as she rises to her feet with a fierce glare on her face. If looks could kill, half the population of Hogwarts would be dead by now. The gang look up in shock at her - Ron almost swallows his spoon when he jerks in surprise while Luna, poor dear that she is, blinks sadly at Susan. "I'm getting him out, one way or another. To hell with what Snape said, I'd rather have Harry be a fugitive than allow him to spend another second with the Dementors."
That garners even worse looks of shock and alarm from the gang.
"Are you insane? You'll never make it to the boats, let alone to his cell," Draco hisses, panic flashing in his eyes.
"Really, Susan. I know you want him out, we all do, but this isn't the way," Hermione agrees and the rest of the table, sans Luna, nod in commiseration.
Susan flips her hair angrily and glares at them too.
"I don't care. Maybe you're content to sit on your arses and wait for our dear Minister to remember to get Harry out, but I'm not. I'm doing this, with or without you."
They all shift around in their seats uncomfortably, most looking down at their plates to avoid Susan's teal accusing glower. Blaise, in particular, looks pained but he still twists his mouth in a grimace as he answers for all of them, "I fear you're on your own this time, Susan."
"Pathetic," she spits angrily as she climbs over the bench and turns her back on them.
"There's nothing we can do, Susan. It's best to do as Professor Snape said," Luna's sad, murmured voice reaches her ears before she can storm out of the Hall.
Susan whips around, aiming a disappointed look at the blonde girl instead of the furious daggers she's been glaring into the others. "You're wrong this time, Lue. I'll show you." She doesn't wait to hear anything else and simply marches out of there, a woman on a warpath. The first thing she does is burst into the Slytherin Common Room and make for the boy's dormitory, where Harry's trunk is still lying at the foot of his bed, covered in dust from being left untouched for so long. She bites her lip, staring at it consideringly, but she shakes her head. She doubts the trunk holds anything that could be of use to her now and it would be a waste of time she doesn't have to try and pry it open anyway.
She loves Harry but he can be a paranoid bastard sometimes.
Instead, Susan starts rummaging through his drawers, searching underneath his pillow, inside his pillow, under the sheets, the blanket, she even lifts up the mattress in her frantic search. She slumps in on herself and blows a stray strand of hair away from her face with an air of disappointment when she comes up empty.
"Snape it is then," she mutters to herself before she leaves the Snake territory in the same whirlwind she entered it in.
Snape's not in his office when she bursts in but she doesn't let that dissuade her. Eyes narrowed with determination, Susan starts searching the man's office thoroughly, leaving no drawer unopened - her prosthetic comes in handy when one or two don't want to budge - or cushion unturned. Just when she's ready to tear her hair out, she finally hits the jackpot.
"There you are. Thank Merlin Harry didn't take you with him to Azkaban."
Susan stuffs the invisibility cloak in her pocket with satisfaction then leaves the office quickly, uncaring of the mess she's left behind.
After that, it's stupidly easy for Susan to grab a cloak and her wand and leave the castle grounds. The hard part comes when she stops in a secluded corner in Hogsmeade and realizes she doesn't have a way to reach Azkaban.
Naturally, she doesn't let that stop her. She's furiously brainstorming ideas when her eyes catch on a particular item displayed in the window of Dervish and Banges. A slow, satisfied smile curls her lips and she marches towards the shop.
Ten minutes later Susan Bones walks out of Dervish and Banges with a Nimbus 2000 and a significantly lighter wallet. She'll make sure to take that out of Harry's vault after she's rescued his skinny ass from prison, though.
She finds a secluded spot to take off from, tightening her cloak around her and making sure it's secured and won't open or slip off mid-flight, before she mounts her broom, then off she goes. It's a grueling journey. The wind nips at her skin at first, but the longer she races towards Harry, it starts biting chunks out of her skin with its ferocity. Half an hour in, Susan's limbs go numb and she has to flex her fingers on the handle of the Nimbus every now and then to get some circulation going again. Then, as she gets closer to Azkaban and clouds start rolling in, the atmosphere becomes heavy with moisture and fog, soaking her to the bone and limiting her field of view significantly. But she pushes herself to continue, gritting her teeth against the pain and discomfort, ignoring her full body shivers and stinging eyes, because she knows that her misery is nothing compared to what Harry is going through even as she races against the elements to reach him.
After what feels like a small eternity, Susan touches down close to Azkaban. The sky is cloudy and so dark a shade of grey it almost looks black, so she frankly doesn't even know what time of day it is or how long her journey lasted. She can feel the soul crushing despair oozing out of the prison, though.
Undeterred, Susan shrinks the broom and stuffs it in her pocket then takes out her wand, holding it between her teeth for a moment while she pulls Harry's invisibility cloak out as well and covers herself with it. That done, she retakes her wand, grasping it firmly in her flesh hand, and starts walking towards the ugly concrete building.
For supposedly being the most impenetrable prison in history, Azkaban is rather sparsely guarded by real humans who have the advantage of not being blind and most likely also deaf, unlike their Dementor counterparts. It suits Susan just fine, though, since she's able to slip past the sole guard sleeping fitfully in an uncomfortable looking metal chair with ease, then start climbing. She doesn't know where, exactly, they're keeping Harry, but if she had to guess she'd probably say they'd want him as isolated from the rest of the inmates as possible. To heighten the torture, you see.
So, she follows her gut and keeps climbing and climbing, ignoring the burn in her lungs and her ever shortening breath, until she reaches a floor that seems to be empty. There are no noises here aside from the roaring of the wind and the splashing of waves against the building - no pitiful moans of distress or wails of anguish, no insane gibberish and no mad cackles or howls. Susan steps fully inside the corridor, eyeing the endless rows of cells on either side of her, all the while trying to ignore the misery trying to burrow into her heart and take permanent residence there.
She starts walking, careful not to let her footsteps echo off the bare walls, and looks into each cell with a conflicting mixture of hope and dread. She's almost at the end of the corridor when she does a double take, turning back around and staring at one of the cells with her heart utterly broken. It'd hurt less if someone reached into her chest and tore out her heart for real.
Harry's sad, pathetic lump of a body is curled around itself on the dirty floor of his cell. His eyes are screwed shut, eyelids shifting erratically with the movement of his eyeballs, and his mouth is opening and closing around nearly inaudible whimpers of pain and whispers of agony. Susan can't make out the words but she gets the gist regardless. She kneels in front of his cell, eyes tearing up at the horrible sight of her better half, and grasps the bars tightly in her fists.
"I'm here, love. I've come to get you out. Your Susan is here," she whispers brokenly, trying to suppress her sobs. Someone has to remain rational here and it clearly won't be Harry.
Harry twitches on the ground and lifts his head up, looking in Susan's direction but seeing right through her.
"You're not real," he whispers as if he's trying to convince himself.
"Of course I'm real, Harry. I'm right here, aren't I?"
"No no no no no, not you too. They killed you too," he cries as he starts rocking back and forth.
"No one's kil-"
"Don't bother, he's too far gone."
Susan snaps her head towards the voice, heart in her throat, and curses herself for not paying better attention to her surroundings, when she spots the only other occupant of this floor. Lucius Malfoy.
He's leaning against the wall, head slumped back with his eyes closed, one leg bent at the knee with his right arm thrown over it. Susan checks to see that the cloak is still covering her completely, just to be sure, before she speaks up.
"What have they done to him?"
"What Dementors usually do. If you want to break him out, I'm afraid he won't be much use while you try," Malfoy drawls.
Susan scowls, tightening her hand around her wand and resisting the urge to curse him, and turns back to Harry, choosing to ignore the blonde.
"Come on, Harry. I'll get you out." She tugs on the cell door and is pleasantly surprised when it just swings open - after seeing the state of Azkaban's prisoners but especially Harry, she shouldn't be surprised that they didn't even bother locking his door - then wraps her golden arm around Harry and heaves him up. He flinches against her touch but luckily doesn't thrash around or protest too loudly, so she shuffles them out slowly before she throws the cloak around his body and starts walking out.
She doesn't spare Malfoy another glance or word, nor does he seem inclined to say anything more, so Susan turns a corner and starts descending the stairs with Harry in tow in silence. It's slow going and the weight of Harry isn't exactly easy to lug around, but they manage and somehow, through sheer dumb luck and what has to be divine providence, the two of them slip right past the still asleep guard and out of the building.
Susan steers them to an out of sight corner, knowing she doesn't have the stamina to get them farther on foot the way she'd wish, and fumbles around for a bit until she manages to fish the shrunken broomstick out of her pocket. She taps it with her wand to enlarge it then gets Harry to climb on it - seems like not even Dementors can erase years of Seeker instincts - before she mounts the Nimbus behind him and takes a hold of the handle. She spares one last look of disgust towards the hellhole that's been driving her best friend insane, then she lifts them up in the air and takes off towards Isle of Wright.
As they fly towards safety, Susan finally allows herself a small, satisfied smile. The gang and Snape can go fuck themselves with their "there's nothing we can do". Susan went toe to toe with Bellatrix Lestrange and came out with a badass prosthetic arm on the other side - she wasn't going to let her soulmate rot while she twiddled her thumbs. If there's a will, there's a way.
And if there is no way, then Susan Elaine Bones will create one or die trying.