disclaimer: Any character you recognize, I don't own. There might be some characters that you don't recognize, but I probably don't own them either. There might be a character or two that you don't recognize because I created them, but frankly, if anyone wanted to use them, I'd be flattered.

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Life & Loyalty

by MarbleGlove

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Past and Future

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"Before I give you today's lecture, do you have any questions?"

Dumbledore was always amused when he asked Hermione this, but despite the silent laughter, she was grateful since she always did have questions. He gave her a chance to ask questions, before and after every session, as well as at various points in the middle. He might not answer all of her questions, but he did give her a chance to ask them. On the occasions when he didn't answer her directly, he would generally tell her how to find the answer. She just hoped that this wasn't one of those times.

"Yes, sir." For once though Hermione hestitated before asking. She didn't hesitate for long, though. "Who is Master Adam? And how does he know Professor Snape?"

Having Dumbledore look at her over the rims of his glasses was rather unnerving, especially since this was the Great Albus Dumbledore. Maybe Harry thought of him like a kindly uncle, but she had always just been the sidekick, given a pat on the head and then politely asked to leave the room while secrets of war were discussed. This had never really bothered Hermione, it just made it much harder to get used to having such a great man as her mentor especially when he was staring at her like he could see into her very soul. Despite this impression, Hermione rather thought that Dumbledore was simply thinking things through and wasn't paying attention to where his eyes were directed. Finally his eyes dropped and focused once more on something in this mortal plane.

"I do not know what exactly Adam is, but I do recognize the pattern that he represents. He is much like Fawlkes." At the sound of his name, the Headmaster's phoenix chirped and looked in their direction, then went back to preening himself.

"The obvious, of course, is that he rises from the dead, but the implications of such an ability are both joyous and intensely painful. Those who rise from the dead are not born, nor do they ever entirely die, and due to this, they are always set apart from those of us who do. Adam is not just unknown, but he is in many ways unknowable. You will find, as you advance in the feild of alchemy, that there are three types of knowledge: the known, the unknown, and the unknowable. If it's known, then you can read it in a book or some such, and it can be put on your bookshelf and left alone. If it's unknowable, then there's no point in studying it, and again, it is best left alone. It is the unknown that calls us to study it, to understand it, to make it known."

Hermione's eyes shown with her desire to go out and find unknown knowledge and it was hard to keep from shifting. Dumbledore continued, "Unlike Adam, Severus," the Headmaster smiled faintly and his eyes gleamed, "Severus is just Severus. It should be possible to understand him. I think. Severus was a student here, as you know. What you probably don't know is that I mourned him when he graduated. He was lost to me and to the Light. But then suddenly he returned. It is as if Fawkes had decided to adopt an owl chick." Fawkes squawked suspiciously at them, apparently making sure they knew that if that was a suggestion, it was a bad one.

"Such an owl should be a known quantity and yet it's experience with one of the unknowable changes it in some way. No matter who raised it, an owl should stay an owl, a human should stay a human. And yet, half the time, Severus doesn't act human. Later on in your apprenticeship I'll introduce you to some of the older immortals about. There's a venerable old dryad in the Forbidden Forest that I visit occasionally. I've even met master vampires before, although I won't be introducing you to any. But, sometimes Severus acts more like them, than he does other humans absolutely in control of himself at all times, except for those rare and disturbing occasions when he is completely out of control." Dumbledore drifted into silence and then came to himself. "But this is not what you should be learning. I should be sharing with you my knowledge of alchemy, not my obsession with a cranky, potions master."

Hermione followed the conversation shift easily and only remarked silently and to herself, "too late," before allowing herself to focus on the magical properties of various stones.

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Of all the professors who taught at Hogwarts, Sybil was probably Severus' favorite.

This surprised practically everyone who knew, although Severus himself thought the appeal was self-explanatory. Originally it had been because she lived on the opposite end of the castle from him, she never tried to push conversation on him, and every year for Christmas she gave him one of the bonsai trees from the forest of them that she had inherited from her mother.

He, in turn, every Christmas made her the particular incense that she liked supplementing it with fumes to help concentration and soothe migraines. And, because she never forced conversation on him, on the rare occasions that he felt social, he would make some overture to her and see if she was willing to converse. She almost always obliged him, and afterwards never pushed for more socializing and didn't appear hurt if he ignored her for several months at a time. They would speak for a while and then go their separate ways. They talked about the students, the faculty, the weather, or whatever other light trivialities came to mind.

It had been several years before he had given in to his curiosity and asked her about her apparently endless supply of different species of bonsai trees. He loved his growing collection of them, in large part because they offered him a steady supply of very concentrated potions ingredients, unlike anything that was available through a standard apothecary.

Severus had been wary of asking such a question because it bordered on personal. Their current rate of talking about inconsequentials approximately three times a year suited him just fine and he didn't want to change that. On the other hand, he was very, very curious about the bonsai trees.

In her normal manner and wispy voice Sybil had told him about her mother, Circe.

Circe Trewlaney had loved two things in her life: the forest of bonsai trees that she tended and her daughter, Sybil.

She had loved them both deeply and had cared for them in much the same way: coming to a decision about what she wanted the finished products to look like she had enforced growth along the lines she wanted, nipping any other outgrowth at the bud. The trees grew from seedlings into perfectly formed miniature trees, and Sybil grew from an infant into a perfect seer.

And then she died.

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Sybil's first real memory was when she was fifteen and hungry.

It was the day her mother died. It was the day the future that had kept her company for over a decade began to recede until she had only the occasional nightmare or migraine. It was the day the world changed and she was never sure afterwards whether it was for the better or the worse.

Every day as a child, she sat in her room and wrote in her journal everything that she had seen, either in her sleeping dreams or the a trance. Before this point she had plenty of other memories but they were all set in times and places where she knew her physical body had never been. She lived in her visions of the future. In the present her mother told her what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. She couldn't effect the future and she didn't effect the present.

Thus she didn't know what to do when a house elf came to her to tell her that her mother had died unexpectedly and asked for a command.

Sybil and the house elf had faced each other for most of the day, each of them waiting for the other to tell them what to do.

The stalemate was finally broken when Sybil stomach had growled with hunger. Upon hearing this the house elf had asked, "Is Miss hungry?"

Sybil had said, "I am hungry."

The house elf had been relieved to finally have something to do and had immediately departed to prepare a five course meal for the new mistress. This was Sybil's first experience with decision making.

Their relationship had progressed along those lines. Sybil and the house elf had each very tentatively offered suggestions of what should or could be done and the other always agreeing with relief that they hadn't had to make that decision.

Over the years, Sybil grew in her ability to make decisions and understand the world around her. It was a painful experience as her vision of the future fought for space inside her head against her new found sense of the present.

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Severus listened to what Sybil said, and over the course of several months and much soul searching, asked a few other personal questions.

"Were you scared when you first left the Trewlaney estate and met other witches and wizards?"

"No." Sybil looked honestly surprised by the question. "Why would I be?"

"From what you've said, I assumed that you were alone with your mother, and then entirely alone for many of your formative years. Given that ordering a house elf to make you dinner scared you, how could the crowds of new people not scare you?"

"I was never alone. I met people all the time. I saw them in my crystal ball and in my cards and in my dreams. I knew them better than any person I know now. It's lonely sometimes meeting people only in the flesh. But I only meet people in the present now and they don't make sense now like they did when I saw them in the future."

Severus was still not a social person but he did take Sybil under his wing to some extent. The other professors considered this an amazing anomaly that could only happen in a castle overloaded with magic, causing all sorts of inexplicable things to occur. However, they had also found that if they were unobtrusive they would sometimes find Severus in the teachers lounge telling stories to Sybil about all sorts of people their past and future, motives and goals trying to ease her loneliness in his own way.

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"Tell me what you know of Cassandra."

Sybil had worn herself out in hysterics and was now sleeping lightly. Left behind in the infirmary were a bemused Severus Snape and Adam at his most uninformative. It was Adam who had spoken.

Looking at the completely impassive face of his old mentor, Severus answered as best he could. "There are very few witches named Cassandra in the wizarding world. It is considered an ill-omened name. The few Cassandras that there have been have almost all been talented seers who died early and unpleasant deaths. The fame attached to the name may tempt some pureblood families if not for the fact that every Cassandra almost invariably dies before she has any children of her own. Purebloods do like their grandchildren."

"Sybil said that her great-to-some-degree grandmother was Cassandra."

"Ah yes, the Trewlaney family's claim to fame. They all say that. The Cassandra in question however was the second wife of Terrence Trelaweny and all of the decendants came from the first wife."

"Of course." Severus shot Adam a questioning look. He was sure that Adam knew something.

After a pause, Severus continued. "The story of Cassandra Trewlaney is something of a mystery. The one thing that is certain is that she was a talented seer. A good percentage of the prophesies in the Ministry records come from her. No one knows what her maiden name was, but she met Terrence Trewlaney almost five hundred years ago during an attack by dark wizards. Terrence Trewlaney's first wife was killed and the eldest son badly crucio'd when Cassandra arrived and saved what remained of the day. It was all very exciting, or so the old records say. Within a year, Cassandra had married Terrence. Within seven years, Cassandra was convicted of repeatedly casting Unforgivables on the eldest son whom she had previously saved. She was sent to Azkaban and died soon thereafter."

"An unpleasant story, but not particularly mysterious." Adam's face showed slight inquiry. Severus was releived to see something on Adam's face, even if it didn't tell him anything.

"The mystery is that both Terrence Trewlaney and Edmund, the son in question, argued vehemently for her innocence. Despite thier defense, however, she was found guilty, imprisoned, and soon dead. Historians argue over whether she was so deeply into the dark arts that she had succeeded in placing both Terrence and Edmund in her thrall or if one of her prophesies had threatened someone with political power to the extent that they had arraigned matters so as to get her alone and vulnerable in the prison."

"Not one and not the other."

Sybil's voice was even wispier than usual, the sounds barely voiced. None the less, both men jerked at the sound. Sybil had kept her eyes barely open so that she could peer through her eyelashes without letting either man know that she was watching them. She had listened to them as she tried to disconnect herself from the fear that had overwhelmed her earlier.

She had heard about the mysterious "Adam", of course, who had played an interesting role in the second war against You-Know-Who. He was a friend of Severus' and would not hurt her, she told herself repeatedly. But maybe he did have a relationship with her great-great-great-great-grandmother. She watched him closely as she continued to speak.

"It's a secret passed down within the family, but Cassandra escaped although even we don't know how. She returned to the Trewlaney estate, but her time in Azkaban had been terrible. My mother had me read the journals that Cassandra wrote after her escape. They still give me nightmares, sometimes. They're filled with visions of the future and memories of the past that she saw during her stay with the dementors. It took her three years and a dozen journals to empty it all out, and then she left."

Adam remained silent, but Severus finally queried, "left?"

"She turned into her animagi form, a wolf, and ran into the forest. Neither Terrence nor Edmund ever saw her again, although various Trewlaney's down the generations say that if they lose themselves in Donan Woods a wolf will come and lead them out."

Sybil stopped pretending that her eyes were closed and just looked at Adam as he released a long sigh. He appeared to have his emotions under control, but his voice was tight when he spoke. "I had hoped that it was some other Cassandra. But as you said, Severus, it's a rare name among witches."

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A/N: I love reviews. Thank you to all of you who have reviewed the first chapter.