Author's note:  This is a slightly different version of Chapter 15 from the one I originally posted last night (3/3).  Very slightly.  Actually, there is only one line changed—the last one.  It was bugging me.  Many thanks to Arachne's Child for her feedback and for helping me to listen to what my inner voice was saying to me.

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Chapter 15: Tricks of the Mind

Be still my beating heart
It would be better to be cool
It's not time to be open just yet
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget

Be still my beating heart
Or I'll be taken for a fool
It's not healthy to run at this pace
The blood runs so red to my face

I've been to every single book I know
To soothe the thoughts that plague me so
I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion

Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart

Restore my broken dreams
Shattered like a falling glass
I'm not ready to be broken just yet
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget

Be still my beating heart
You must learn to stand your ground
It's not healthy to run at this pace
The blood runs so red to my face

Never to be wrong
Never to make promises that break
It's like singing in the wind
Or writing on the surface of a lake

And I wriggle like a fish caught on dry land
Struggle to avoid any help at hand

I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion
Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart
--STING

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After Addy had disapparated, Snape had lingered just outside the gate, unsure of what to do with himself. He had contemplated returning to the castle, but it was a lovely late summer evening, and he decided to wait around a bit to see if she returned shortly. He had no idea what was going on at The Compound, but figured Addy might need a helping hand upon her reappearance.

As he leaned against the stone wall, he thought about how soft her small hands had felt resting in the palms of his, and her large green eyes with their golden flecks glowing warm and deep. He had seen her take that step toward him, just before she doubled over in pain, and its potential had not been lost on him.

If that blasted Voldemort had not called her at that exact moment, what would have happened? Snape let his mind wander down that path a few minutes, his lips curving into a small smile as he contemplated it. It had been so long since he'd allowed a woman's affection to penetrate his armor, yet now it didn't seem as if he had much of a choice. She was irresistible.

He laughed, remembering the look on her face when she'd smeared ink all over it, and the way he'd felt her charms swirling around him, like a bubbling whirlpool. He could have stayed in that moment forever…lost in her eyes and in her touch.

'She's delightful, isn't she?' said the Voice that lived inside him.

'Yes," he thought. 'The most interesting thing to come around in a long while.'

'With a strange, fascinating allure, wouldn't you say?'

'Strange, indeed.' Snape smiled.

'And she knows so much! In fact, at this very moment she is with Voldemort, perhaps discussing more of his plans…'

His thoughts turned to their strategy session, and he began to ponder what was being discussed just then between Addy and Voldemort. The Voice was quite for a while, and then it spoke to him again, softly, like a whisper on the breeze:

'I suppose it remains to be seen whether her information is accurate or not.'

Snape's brow furrowed instinctively.

'I suppose," he mused. Up until then, he hadn't thought to question it.

'And if…earlier tonight…she had asked you to divulge everything you know? You would not have been able to refuse her, would you?'

Snape shifted his weight from one leg to another, and crossed his arms. That was ridiculous! Of course he would have been able to refuse her, if he'd thought it necessary. It's not as though he'd been bewitched, after all.

And besides, he didn't need to protect himself against her. They were on the same side.

Weren't they?

His mind wandered to the sensations he'd felt in his office earlier that evening. Fumbling … swirling … drowning … losing himself in the deep green pools of her eyes. Losing himself.

Losing control.

He had to admit that he hadn't seemed himself lately. A tiny knot appeared in his stomach, and he began to pace.

He wondered exactly how he'd become so fixated on her, in such a short time. It was true that since she'd arrived, he'd been able to think of little else. Just yesterday, he'd sat in his office all day staring at the door, hoping she'd walk through it. That wasn't like him. And where had she been the whole day anyway? He'd searched the entire castle for her and had never found her.

He pondered over how sorely disappointed she'd seemed when he had canceled their session the previous night. Why had it been so important to her? Why had she insisted they meet in his office tonight? And why had he given up his whole evening—the last night before classes—first bumbling around his office and then walking her to the gate, when he could have been working? What had come over him?

And really, when he analyzed it with cool, crisp reason, how could he be certain that the information Addy had provided was authentic? All this business about Marlin Pugh and the explosion in the Underground—it could just as easily be some sort of trap, couldn't it?

Was it possible that she had fooled Dumbledore? He was only a wizard after all. Very powerful, yes, but prone to misjudgment like anyone else.

But what about Fawkes? Perhaps a Phoenix could make a mistake too, once in a thousand lifetimes.

As the night air cooled and cleared his brain, all the pieces started to fall into place for Severus Snape. When one thought about it, if Voldemort had wanted to ensnare him, Adelaide Jones was the perfect candidate. Voldemort would know that Snape would have his guard up—hell, he'd learned it from his Master—so it would be essential to choose a seductress who seemed completely guileless. Addy had certainly mastered that! And, of course, someone beautiful, but not too obviously so—no sirens or veela types.

Yes, when one thought about it, who better to groom as the quintessential double-crosser than Iscarious Jones' own daughter?

And then, Snape remembered the final piece of the puzzle. She had no Dark Mark. The whole drama of the evening could have been an outright charade, designed to camouflage her true strength…and allegiances.

By the time Addy returned, he had worn a groove in the soft earth beneath him, slowly convincing himself that she had been methodically seducing him for the past three days. Her orders from Voldemort had plainly been to gain access to his inner office (she had, indeed, taken an inordinate interest in all his potions and possessions), plant the phony story of the Underground explosion, and then fake a painful summons so as to return to The Compound for further orders. They were probably planning her next move at that very moment. It was all so obvious!

It was also a lot easier for Snape to accept than the alternative—that a smart, exquisite witch genuinely cared for him and harbored feelings for him that surpassed friendship. That the lonely shroud under which he lived could finally be lifted. That there was hope for him to lead a good life, full of laughter and love. Who was he to her anyway? Just a lonely, surly professor with a marked past, when she had been raised to be a Queen.

His bitterness intensified when he realized how she had fooled him, how she had made him actually believe it for a while. Why, she and Voldemort were probably having a good laugh over it right now.

And then, she apparated into view, in the exact spot from which she had departed earlier.

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When she was finished vomiting, Addy took the handkerchief gratefully from his hand and wiped her face. She smiled up at him. "How long have I been gone?" she asked.

"You don't know?"

"No, you know what it's like in Voldemort's Throne Room," she responded, wiping the bleariness from her eyes.

"About three hours," he said. Addy thought his voice sounded different somehow, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"You waited here all that time?" she asked, a grateful smile lighting up her face. She again had the urge to throw her arms around him.

"I had a lot of thinking to do."

"Oh?" she said. Then she noticed that he was looking at her strangely too, his eyes shining like two black, steel marbles. There was an awkward silence, during which he just stood there, stiffly leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed in front of him, studying her. Finally she said, "So, can we go back now? I'm knackered, and I really need a shower."

"Mmmmm, I'll bet you do," he responded coldly, without moving.

"What's wrong, Snape?" she asked kindly, frowning. She was sure now that something was on his mind.

"What did you and Voldemort talk about?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Nothing much. I'll tell you about it on the walk back to the castle."

"Why don't you tell me about it now." It wasn't a question.

Addy was starting to get peevish about the way he was speaking to her. He certainly had been an enormous help this evening, and she didn't know how she would have made it to Voldemort without him. But his tone now was not just cold, it was downright insinuating.

Her headache was intensifying, but she sighed and said, "He asked me about Hogwarts and Dumbledore and you and Harry. Then he confirmed that his plans were still on for the 'Underground Project' in two weeks." She heard a snort escape from him, and looked up sharply at him, perplexed. But she continued, "Then my father came in and wanted me to visit with him for a while, but Voldemort sent me home instead."

"Home?" he asked her.

"Yes, here." she said, suddenly self-conscious. "Home."

Snape said nothing, but continued scrutinizing her. Addy was bewildered. She didn't know what had come over him, but she was exhausted and was getting to the point where she'd had enough of this.

"Well, I'm going back to the castle now. Why don't you come with me?" she asked, offering him a friendly smile.

When he still didn't respond, she shrugged her shoulders and headed for the gate. As she passed him, he suddenly grabbed her upper arms roughly and said, "What did you tell Voldemort???" His eyes blazed behind a storm cloud of suspicion, and Addy was, for the first time, afraid of him.

"Ow, you're hurting me! I told you already!"

"Three hours and that's all you discussed? I find that hard to believe."

"Well, believe it. Most of the time he just sat there, petting my head. He even scratched me—see for yourself!" Addy bent her head down and turned it to the side as far as it would go, to show him the blood that had dried on the back of her neck. Snape didn't even look at it, but took one hand and grabbed her tightly by the jaw, turning her face back to his, and peering into her eyes.

"Snape! What's got into you?!?" she cried, wrenching her head free from his grasp. He still clutched her left arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"What did you tell him about me?" he hissed.

Now, Addy was getting mad. She couldn't imagine what he was thinking, but she knew she did not deserve this interrogation.

"If you must know, I told him I thought you were a bore!" she snapped back.

"What are you up to Adelaide? I will find out, you know! Perhaps a little Veritaserum will reveal the truth!" he threatened.

"If that's what you need, then FINE! Why don't we go back right now and you can mix me up one of your infamous cocktails!" she shouted back, defiantly.

"If you told him anything about the Order…" his voice trailed off menacingly.

"Oh!" said Addy, her voice reeking of sarcasm. "You mean I wasn't supposed to tell Voldemort about our plans to thwart his plans? Darn, I guess I wasn't really clear on that part!" she sneered.

"If you think this is all some sort of a joke…" he threatened.

"The only thing that's a joke is your behavior right now, and it's not very funny. I don't know what's come over you, but I do wish you'd come right out and tell me what you're thinking," she answered.

His eyes gleamed obsessively. He growled in a low baritone, slowly into her face, "You don't have a Dark Mark, do you?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Snape!" Addy yelled back, utterly exasperated. "We've been over this already, haven't we???"

"YOU DON"T HAVE ONE!"

"Can we please go back to the castle now? " Addy was growing weary, and she truly did not have the strength to go through this all over again.

"If you have one, where is it? WHERE IS IT???" He grabbed her other arm again and began shaking her violently now, his voice seething with derangement. The force of his grip had lifted her off the ground, and her feet kicked at the air beneath her.

"Let me go! I can't tell you! Let me go!" she cried, in fear and despair, struggling to free herself from his hold.

"Why not?" he questioned, his face inches from hers. "VOLDEMORT'S ORDERS ?!?"

Addy gasped aloud.

She ceased struggling and went limp in his hands, her eyes locked on his. Her mouth hung open and she looked as though she'd been slapped.

Snape peered intently at her, the clenched muscles of his jaw working visibly beneath the skin.  He searched Addy's soul for the signs of guilt he was sure he would see. But, as he gazed deep into her eyes, he saw something else there instead. He saw a terrible grief wash over her, and a pain that was far worse than any of the misery he'd seen when Voldemort had called her.

Then he saw the tears well up. She blinked them back valiantly, but she could not blink away her fathomless sorrow.

Snape straightened abruptly and shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. That look in her eyes had somehow managed to penetrate the cloud of madness that had descended on his brain, causing it to dissipate. He suddenly realized he was holding her about three inches off the ground, and gently lowered her until her feet touched the earth.

Addy just stood there, blinking, looking up at him as if her heart had been broken in two.

Then she spoke, in a voice that was disturbingly calm and quiet. "No. I don't take orders from him anymore. I did a good job tonight, Snape. I didn't tell him anything. I would never do anything to betray Dumbledore…or the Order…or you. Ever." With the force of that last word, a single tear overflowed and trailed down her left cheek. "I wish…I wish you could…" her voice trailed off, overcome with heartache.

Snape shook his head a second time to fully clear it, and let go of her arms. He put a hand to his forehead, wondering if some dark magic hadn't overcome him. Could this have been Voldemort's work?

But he knew it was not Voldemort. He had done it to himself. It had been his own mind that had deceived him, not Addy, not Voldemort. His own mind, which had been so corrupted back in his Death Eater days that he wondered if he would ever really be free of the fear and mistrust and self-doubt—that demonic Voice that haunted him. He knew the mind was a powerful thing, but he was ashamed that he had been so easily misled by it, so quick to believe that the world was full of enemies, and that Addy's intentions could only have been nefarious.

He looked back down at Addy and saw in her eyes the damage he'd done. He wanted to reverse time, to go back and do it all over again. He would have taken her arm gently in his and walked her back to the castle. He would have smelled her jasmine scent as the lovely summer breeze rustled through her hair. He would have looked after her, and helped her recoup from the ordeal of her visit.

But now, gazing down at her, he knew he had destroyed that opportunity, perhaps for good.

"Addy…" he said, running a hand through is hair.

"Can we go back now?" she said, quietly.

"I don't … I… I'm…" his voice trailed off. He wanted to explain, to take back all the monstrous things he'd said and the hurt he'd inflicted, but he simply didn't know how.

"Please, Snape," she implored sadly, another tear tumbling forward before she quickly brushed it off and turned away from him.

"Yes, of course," he said softly. He opened the gate for her and she stepped past him tentatively, her head down. They crossed the lawn in silence, Snape struggling to think of what he could possibly say to undo what he had done.

He led the way through the tunnel, but when he turned back to take her hand, she recoiled instinctively, hurt and fear shining in her wet eyes. He hung his head and continued guiding her through the corridors, until they stood in the vast, main entrance hall.

Staring at the ground, Addy said quietly, "Thank you for showing me the way."

She longed to say more--something that would convince him once and for all that she hadn't lied to him tonight, that she was truly one of them now, and that she would sooner die or, worse, subject herself to Voldemort's tortures, than do anything to harm him. But she couldn't imagine what she could possibly say or do that would make him believe her. There would always be that trace of mistrust in his eyes, and she would always have to wonder if he saw her as herself, or simply as Iscarious Jones' Death Eater daughter. There was obviously no hope of convincing him, deep down, otherwise.

She turned and walked away from him, crossing to the opposite side of the Hall. Snape stared after her as she slowly ascended one of the staircases and disappeared down a dark hallway. When he could no longer hear her footsteps in the quiet night castle, the words finally came to him.

"Forgive me," he whispered, regret choking his voice. "I am so sorry."  Turning back to his cold and lonely room, he spoke into the silent air, "Good night, Adelaide."

To be continued…