A.N: Just a few things to point out before you read! The chapters will be a little skewed, but it's entirely deliberate. The following birth dates have been created by me as they weren't already listed by JKR. Cassandra has prolonged her life, hence why she is still alive (but that will be further explained).

Sybil: March 9th, 1960

Cassandra: March 9th, 1650

March 9th, 1960

"She's coming, Patricia. Just hold out for a little longer."

Cassandra was clinging to the hand of her great-granddaughter, Patricia Trelawney, who was flat on her back, writhing on her sweat-soaked sheets. Her legs were up in the air, being held apart by the Healer who had apparated in from St. Mungos to assist with the birth, and she was panting and shrieking for all she was worth.

"You're nearly there, Patricia," the Healer soothed. "I can see the head! A few more pushes, and she'll be out."

"No," moaned Patricia, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead. "No, I can't do it...there's...something wron...ngggh!" her body convulsed as she cried out the sentence, and she threw her head back. Cassandra stroked her wrinkled hand over her great-granddaughter's forehead gently.

It had been a horrible labour. The contractions had started over forty-eight hours ago, and Patricia had been in agonising pain ever since. All Patricia wanted was for the father of her unborn baby to have joined her at the birth, but it was something that Cassandra knew wouldn't happen, long before Patricia even fell pregnant.

Every time one of her daughters became pregnant, the father would flee. Even if the baby was planned, wanted, tried for desperately. Without fail, every father would be gone within twenty four hours after the pregnancy announcement. It was as though they had a bad feeling about the babies that were to be born, and some deep, omniscient force was convincing them to run for the hills.

And Cassandra knew all too well why the fathers never remained with the mothers. It was his way of assuring that no Trelawney woman ever ruined their lives.

This pregnancy had been particularly hard on Patricia, something which Cassandra hadn't entirely expected. She had witnessed both of her own daughter's give birth to four granddaughters, and two of those granddaughters went on to produce another three. Two of those great-grandchildren, Patricia's sisters, were not going to produce any more daughters. One of them had discovered she was unable to bear children, and the other had died when she was just eight years old, leaving Patricia to carry on the Trelawney name.

Every other pregnancy Cassandra had assisted had been entirely smooth-sailing. Natural aches, pains and sickness, all followed by an ordinary pregnancy, lasting no longer than around twelve hours of labour.

Patricia was the first to break the routine that Cassandra had become so acquainted with.

"One more push, Patricia!" the Healer's voice broke through Cassandra's train of thought. Patricia released a loud, hysterical scream, pushing for all she was worth. Her face flushed a deep, beet-red, a vein on her forehead bulged, and finally the baby burst out into the Healer's arms.

The Healer acted quickly, wrapping the baby, still red-faced and covered in blood, into a fluffy pink towel and handing her to Patricia. The baby was surprisingly quiet, Cassandra noticed. Instead of crying, she was simply whimpering, her eyes screwed up tightly.

"You're beautiful," Patricia whispered, reaching down and hooking her forefinger around the baby's tiny hand. "Sybil." A single tear streamed down her cheek, and she laid her head back on her pillow as she cradled her new baby.

Cassandra engaged in a quick, hushed conversation with the Healer, ushering her out of the bedroom so that the three different generations of Trelawney women could have a few moments alone. She hobbled over to her great-granddaughter's bedside, and looked down into the small, pink face of her new great-great-granddaughter.

"You did so well," she assured Patricia. "So well."

But Patricia was silent. Cassandra furrowed her brow and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, and there was a small smile on her face. The tear that had made a track down her cheek had dried, leaving a wobbly mark on her skin.

"Patricia?" Cassandra clamped her hand on her shoulder, trying to gently shake her awake. She didn't move. "Help!" called the older woman, and the Healer rushed back in.

"Take the baby!" the Healer commanded. Cassandra quickly obliged, reaching into the arms of her great-granddaughter and scooping up the baby, hurrying over to to the other side of the bedroom. At this point, the baby began to cry loudly, screwing her face up even more and wailing vehemently. Cassandra jiggled the newborn gently, trying to hush her.

The Healer was rushing around Patricia worriedly, performing basic resuscitation attempts, but after several moments, she returned to Cassandra's side, a dreadful look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Madam Trelawney," the Healer whispered. "Patricia is dead."

It was the sign that Cassandra had been waiting for. After three hundred years of not being able to foresee what would happen within her own family, she knew that this was it. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of her dead, smiling great-granddaughter, but she had no time to mourn.

She had to focus on the newborn.

So, she turned her back on the Healer, and hurried into another room, holding the baby girl into the candlelight. She had begun to quieten down now, but Cassandra knew it wouldn't be long before she wanted to be fed.

"Come child, open your eyes," Cassandra begged, staring desperately at the baby's closed eyes. Her heart was thumping in her chest. This had to be the one. After five generations, this had to be the one.

Slowly, the baby's eyes cracked open, and Cassandra gasped in shock. She hadn't seen anything like this since...since...

Sybil's eyes were chalk white, foggy and clouded over, with no hint of a pupil. She was obviously completely blind and unable to see anything in front of her, but Cassandra knew that she wasn't...entirely blind.

No, she had sight. It just wasn't the same kind of sight that anyone would expect of her.