Pushed too far

I've been reading a few Harry-is-sorted-into-Slytherin fics, and in a lot of them he's being constantly bullied by everyone except three or so people because he's a Slytherin. And I just wondered when reading these why he doesn't just give up, because for me, imagining being in that situation, where almost if not the entire school hates you, is daunting, and I don't think I could survive it.

Please, if suicide is one of your triggers, what are you doing reading this? And if you're triggered by death, or anything related to suicide in general, please please be careful reading this. If you think reading this story will trigger you, don't read it. My happiness as an author is less important than your mental well-being, so if you don't think you can handle it, don't read this! I will not be offended.

Harry Potter belongs to someone who is not me.

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Harry Potter was sitting alone at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, thinking. He was thankful there were no lessons happening in it this evening, or that any couples had come up to snog, because he would definitely be in trouble if he was caught. The punishment would definitely be... not nice.

It had all started at the Sorting. He'd been happy so far, getting to leave the Dursleys, going to his parent's old school. He'd even thought he'd made a friend in Ron.

But then that stupid hat had to ruin it. He couldn't just listen to Harry. No, it definitely knew best, and the opinions of the students didn't matter at all. He'd asked not to go to Slytherin, partly because of Malfoy, but mostly because he was the Boy-Who-Lived.

He knew the school, and the greater wizarding world, wouldn't take it well if he was anywhere but Gryffindor. It had been obvious to him as soon as Hagrid had taken him into the Leaky Cauldron. His aunt was always changing her opinion about the celebrities on the television, and while he knew his relatives weren't the best benchmark for anything, he also knew that they strived to appear normal, and normal people would change their opinion with the wind.

He wanted to scream the first time he heard that. What was so normal about abusing your nephew he wanted to scream at them, every time he was shoved into his cupboard, or every time Dudley was given anything he wanted while Harry was given nothing.

But, getting off topic, he'd known he'd need to keep a very specific persona when in at Hogwarts. He'd had every intention of doing so, doing everything he was expected to in order to survive.

Then the Sorting Hat (the stupid stupid Sorting Hat) had sorted him into Slytherin.

The mood in the Great Hall had changed in an instant: the easy chatter going silent, happy faces becoming horrified. The sorting hadn't continued until five minutes later, when Professor McGonagall had finally read out the net name on her list.

From that moment on, it had become an uphill battle for Harry. Many Gryffindors sent jinxes and hexes at his back, and shouted insults whenever they could. The Ravenclaws sneered at him and sent obscure curses at him and his things, often joined by the Hufflepuffs who also spread rumours.

"Haven't you heard? When he was seven he killed his cousin's puppy, just to see him cry."

"Didn't you know? Potter's always been a bad nut: a girl at his school got into a fight with him once, and the next day they found her in a pool of her own blood!"

If he'd been hoping for any support from his house, he'd have been disappointed. The Slytherins were some of the worst of those bullying him, and once they'd publicly snubbed him (at the feast that first night), the other houses had declared him fair game. He'd moved out of the dorms after two nights, and was sleeping in an abandoned classroom instead.