A Bitter Pride

A/N – Harry might appear slightly OOC, in that in the books he is usually quick to rise to insults, but I thought that after a lifetime living with the Dursleys, always insulting him, he would learn to ignore them to some extent. Also, it fit this story, so, enjoy.

When Harry had been young he had quickly learned a Bitter Pride. He had nothing else. So every time Uncle Vernon threw him in his cupboard with no food, or Aunt Petunia rapped him round the head and gave him extra chores, or Dudley and his gang bullied and beat him and not once did it get noticed or punished, Harry made no noise, no complaint. He had his Pride, and nothing else.

Besides, who'd listen to him? He was the Freak.

He used to be ashamed of that word, of his baggy clothes and broken glasses. Now he was filled with his burning, Bitter Pride. At least he wasn't like Them. Obsessed with 'Normality' and 'Perfection' with their cardboard cut-out houses and stupid razor like lawns.

Then The Letter came, and chaos was let into the perfect world of Number 4 Privet Drive. He laughed at Dudley's tail, never letting on that he was in the least bit afraid. Well, who wouldn't be? A giant shows up on the Shack on the Sea to tell you you're a famous wizard, and that your parents had been murdered by a super evil Dark Lord, and somehow you had survived. Not that Dudley's tail hadn't been funny, but still.

Then came Hogwarts itself. When Malfoy was flinging insults at him, like a monkey flings dirt, Harry worked hard not to get angry, even when Malfoy was saying things about his parents. He had his Pride, and nothing else. Only when he was sure Malfoy would come off looking worse would he respond. The results were most satisfying.

Much harder to deal with was Snape, who swept round the dungeon, sneering at Harry and using every opportunity to insult him. Snape was harder to deal with than Malfoy because the consequences of responding would have been so much more severe. So Harry bent his head and gritted his teeth. However Harry had his subtle way of getting him back: each lesson he would produce his above average Potion, forcing Snape to give him decent marks. The small glint of disappointment in Snape's eyes was like music and the small taste of victory brought the taste of Pride like salt to the tip of his tongue.

Harry never questioned why Snape and Malfoy hated him. They just did. That was the way of the world. People had always hated him. And he knew there was only one way of dealing with it.

Then came Umbridge.

Each night, each night he was forced to carve those words onto his skin, I must not tell lies, and Hermione begged him to tell someone, get help, Its not that simple, Hermione. He cited the fact the Dumbledore wouldn't be able to overrule Umbridge, that he couldn't get him into any more trouble with the Ministry. But the truth was, they both knew, as much as it had helped him in the past, Harry could not get over his Bitter Pride.

I can't give in to them. They want to get a rise out of me. I won't give them the satisfaction of knowing they've got to me,

Harry, you're being stupid,

I know. But it's the only thing I've got.