Chapter Sixteen: Love, Hate, and War

A/N: My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and for your patience in waiting for this one. This chapter took me even longer than the last and there's still gaping holes in it (suggestions are always welcome). Many thanks to my beta Flying Auk for sticking with me through many painful revisions. Severus is not very easy to write (or deal with) when he's like this...

"I hated Lucius Malfoy," Severus said icily, his words cutting and precise. His back was straight, his posture rigid and unyielding. The harshness of his profile stood in stark contrast to the squishy comfort of the armchair behind it. His black eyes were narrowed and hard, and Diana shivered slightly as his glare sliced through her, burning with a chill fury that left her feeling as though as ghost had just passed through.

Diana took a deep breath and steeled herself, then deliberately lowered her mental barriers as she met his eyes in an attempt to reach out to him. She felt a strong pulse of something from himtwisted and confused, yes, but undeniably powerful. It lasted only a moment, however, and a sudden flash of recognition and irritation was her only warning before Severus severed their connection, instantly cementing his mental defenses until they were adamantine. He glared at her again, and this time all she could sense from him was a mental wall a mile high and twice as thick, and smooth as ice.

"You loved him as well," Diana said simply, meeting his glare unerringly, now certain in what she had only guessed at earlier.

"No," Severus snapped, clenching his jaw painfully.

"No?" she questioned, looking at him sharply. Her blue eyes were probing, willing him to accept the truth.

His mouth twisted bitterly. "You cannot hate what you love, nor can you love what you hate."

"Love and hate are but two sides of the same coin," Diana pointed out, straightening slightly as their verbal sparring brought her back to more familiar ground.

"Regardless of its potential to express both, a coin can show only one face. The two are mutually exclusive," he responded quickly, his words chasing hers, a small flare of satisfaction showing as he sealed his argument.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Diana's mouth. It is an odd relationship indeed, she mused, when both of us feel more comfortable arguing than talking. Shaking off the thought, she considered the man before her and then grinned. "You, Severus, have always defied the rules. With you, the bloody coin would just land on its side, being neither one nor the other, but a rare combination of both." She looked over at him smugly.

Her grin faded at the utter disbelief in his expression. "Dammit, Diana!" Severus roared, leaping out of his chair and startling them both. "Lucius was a vicious, back-stabbing bastard," he growled, his right hand clenched into a fist again. Diana stared at him wide-eyed as he prowled three steps forward and three steps back before sliding back into the chair. His wince as he did so was little more than a flutter of his eyelids, but Diana caught it anyway.

"He was your friend," she said quietly, scarcely believing that she was defending Malfoy to Severus. When had they switched roles?

"He would have killed me!" Two pairs of startled eyes met. Apparently she was not the only one suffering from sleep deprivation.

"What?"

"Nothing," Severus muttered, waving his hand as though to brush away an irritating insect. "Never mind."

"Tell me," Diana demanded softly, reaching out again to place her hand on his knee. Their eyes locked for a long moment in a silent struggle; Severus looked away first, grinding out what Diana thought was "blasted Dumbledores."

"I would think that you would be used to us by now, Severus," she teased him lightly. Usually his aggrieved expression would have incited laughter on her part—but not today. Today, a shadow of a smile was all she could muster, tinged with sorrow and tainted with regret. "You live with Mum and Dad, after all, and you know that they'd never let you get away without dealing with something like this. You can talk to them later or you can talk to me now—it's your choice," she finished smoothly, her easy tone underlying the clear threat.

Black eyes narrowed as Diana leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap, secure in the truth. "What is it about you Dumbledores that you need to 'talk' everything out?" Severus sneered. "The three of you could start your own interrogation squad with all your damned obsessions about feelings."

"Your feelings are very important to us, Severus," Diana deadpanned.

He stared at her blankly for a moment and then let out a strangled bark of laughter. Diana ensured that her expression gave nothing away—it was a look she had learned from her father. The words were true, after all, and judging by the surprise and subsequent surrender on Severus's face, she had won the round.

A series of emotions played across his face in quick succession after that, too fast and too muddled for Diana to make any sense of them, but she could feel his shields lowering as the ice thinned and melted away. When all she sensed from him was a roiling cauldron of confusion, however, she abandoned all attempts to read him. Her words had led them here; it was time for his.

Severus? she asked hesitantly, and waited.

When the words from him finally came, they were delivered in a flat monotone as he stared at his hands, the long, spindly fingers lying in limp capitulation in his lap.

"If we had dueled, Lucius would have killed me," Severus admitted with a slight shrug. "He's always been—he always was the better duelist."

"But—"

"—I betrayed him," Severus cut in sharply. Diana did not miss the subtext, traces of the thought echoing around in her mind: I betrayed him, and he had the right to kill me for that betrayal. She had a sudden, frightening vision of how that particular duel would have gone. If her father had not intervened, Malfoy would have killed Severus—and Severus would have allowed it, mistakenly believing that he deserved death.

"No," Diana said forcefully, shaking slightly with the force of her denial. Severus blinked at her, the urgency in her tone and the paleness of her face startling him. "No, Severus." No!

"Diana?" he asked cautiously, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"He betrayed your friendship when he asked you to join Voldemort," she hissed angrily, her eyes snapping blue fire. How could you believe that you were the one to betray him? How could you possibly imagine that he deserved better than you?

Her heart breaking as the fire of her anger dimmed, she looked into his eyes with a soul-deep sigh. Damn it, Severus Snape, but you deserve better than this.

Severus shook his head, but she was not about to let him object yet.

"He asked you to join the Death Eaters because Voldemort needed a Potions Master and he wanted the credit for recruiting you, not because he was worried for your safety. If he had truly been your friend, he would have told you to get as far away from here as possible," she declared, her eyes darkening in sorrow as she recalled the last time she had tried to persuade him to leave.

It was a few days before the students left Hogwarts for Christmas. As always, Diana had returned to celebrate the holidays with her parents. In what she later recognized as momentary insanity, she had agreed to help Severus restock the student supply cabinets. As usual, they were arguing.

"If you hate it here so much, then why don't you just leave?" she snapped finally, slamming down the jar of feverfew in her hand with a clang. He had been griping about the latest batch of Gryffindors for the last half an hour, and like her mother, Diana could only take so many insults about her house before some retaliation was in order. The poor children were probably terrified of the man, and yet he acted as though they were nothing more than a herd of raging hippogriffs out to destroy his classroom, undermine his authority, and mock his noble art.

Severus froze instantly, his hand halting inches before a half-empty jar of belladonna. "I can't," he said in a low voice, reaching up to take down the jar, popping open the lid with practiced ease.

"Why not?" Diana demanded stubbornly, pausing in her work to glare at his profile challengingly.

"I can't," he answered stiffly, stuffing the jar with a handful of belladonna before returning it to the shelf and pulling the next one down. He refused to turn and face her.

"Why?" she repeated, her voice growing louder. Diana gave up all pretense of work as she turned towards him and crossed her arms angrily.

"The Dark Lord just doesn't release people from his service and wish them well on their next endeavor, Diana," he replied sarcastically, finishing up the last jar and turning to face her at last.

"Who said you'd be asking him?" she retorted smartly. "Just…leave."

"And go where?" he asked in disbelief.

Diana paused. "You could always come to France with me," she offered quietly. "They would never find you."

Severus, too, hesitated. "I…appreciate your offer, Diana," he replied, his voice equally soft, "but I have an obligation to your father. He needs me."

"He would rather have you alive at the end of this war," she said flatly, frowning.

"This war may not end the way you want if I don't stay here," he said sharply, the harsh expression on his face making her wince.

"Severus, you don't have to—surely there must be another way—" Diana began hesitantly, reaching out towards him.

"No," he interrupted flatly, and the look in his black eyes was cold. Diana dropped her hand back to her side. "There is no other way. I will remain here," he said harshly. Diana closed her eyes briefly and turned away.

"There is no other way," Severus repeated softly, a moment later. He shook himself a little, straightened, and then said abruptly, "Well, are you going to help me fill these jars or not? That blasted Longbottom boy wasted three whole jars of that feverfew you're supposed to be replacing."

Diana had turned back to the table without another word. She had not brought up the subject again.

"This is a war," Severus said bluntly, starling her out of her reverie. "We all do what we must."

Diana shook her head angrily. "That doesn't excuse him."

"Or me."

Diana shook her head again. "You're different," she replied instantly.

"How?" he asked immediately, raising an eyebrow.

Her mouth opened slightly. "I…it's…because…because you're good," she stammered finally, frustrated by her inability to explain how fundamentally different Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy were. Why couldn't he see?

Severus laughed outright. Diana glared at him, her cheeks slightly pink, and resisted the urge to rip down the remnants of his mental shields and make him see the truth. "You should visit more often, Diana. Every time you go away, your debating skills decrease exponentially. That's the most pathetic attempt at an explanation that I've ever heard, and given the number of Gryffindors that I am forced to interact with on—"

"Shut up, Severus," she snapped, glaring at him.

His eyes regained some of their usual wicked sparkle as he laughed at her again, and Diana sighed inwardly. "I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself," he said mockingly, waving his hand as if bestowing a grant.

"Why, thank you," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him. Git, she sent with a glare He smirked at her. Diana wanted to slap him. Taking a deep breath, she marshaled her thoughts.

"I don't know if you could have killed him," she said abruptly. Severus's head snapped around and he stared at her as if struck.

"What?"

Diana let go, looked up, and met his eyes. You loved him—your friend, your Lucius. No matter what he did, no matter who he killed, no matter who he betrayed—even you—you still loved him. You would not have fought him. This…his death…it was an accident.

Avada Kedarva is not an accident. His mind's voice was razor sharp, brittle and bitter.

You didn't know it was him. If you had, you would have found another way.

Severus gave no response.

He would have fought you, Severus. She left the outcome unspoken between them.

No! His response was automatic, heartfelt, and instantly bitter. She felt the walls go up between them immediately.

"You said it yourself," Diana reminded Severus gently.

There was silence in the room.

"You're good," she said slowly, willing him to look at her. "Everything you've done—everything you're doing—all the betraying, blackmailing, the spying, the killing—you're doing it for good. For other people—even Lucius. For the students. The Wizengamot. For the whole of the wizarding world—and for the Muggles, too, even if they don't know it."

"I do nothing for the bloody fools," he replied roughly.

Diana shrugged. Regardless of your reasoning,you still end up trying to save the world. She had tried to explain once before, but his Slytherin mind refused to grasp even the most basic concepts of Gryffindor ideals with anything but derision. "Very well, then. What do you stay for?"

Severus froze again. "Debt."

She simply stared at him, waiting.

"Duty," he admitted.

She said nothing.

"Honor," he answered finally, with a sigh.

"Then that is what separates you from him," she replied honestly.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" he asked incredulously.

Diana looked at him with a small, sad smile. "What else is there?" Oh, Severus, if only you could see it…

She could see him thinking, turning the thought over and over in his mind in an infinite circle, his brow furrowed and his eyes distant. And she caught his last thought, clear and strong, tinged with grief alone.

What else is there, indeed?

Oh, Severus…

A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated!

Sorry Andromakhe, in the interests of ending this fic eventually, I won't have Severus blaming Albus and Minerva for Lucius's death. While being totally unfair is his M.O., everyone gets along happily (for the most part) in my fic. I like to keep it that way (and to wrap this fic up!).

foci: Enough holes for you this time? (Sorry, I did try to patch them...they just kept coming too fast.)