Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and I am not selling my stories.

Author's Note: Yes, this is some odd thing Wendy thought up (yeah, and I figured out the whole plot, hahaha! . Thanks for the inspiration though!) and I decided to write. Yeah, some insights to Severus' sad, sad life and a tragic death …

The plot is hidden somewhere in my notebook. Yes, I have a notebook. Oh, and mind the fact that it says Draco died in 1997—I'm writing in the Harry Potter times, so it's still the 90's. Mellow, mellow… Half-Blood Prince spoilers!

Pairings: Severus/Narcissa.

Characters: Severus, Narcissa, and Lucius. Oooo, love triangle? Quite, but not quite.

Rating: T.

Summary: … Myth also had it that only when innocent blood was shed onto the grounds of the graveyard, did the tree shed a tender, rosy petal. Just one petal.

Cherry Blossoms Order 01: Folklore

There was constant murmur within the village of how malevolent spirits stalked the cemetery in the dark, murky depths of the night. Grim gray shadows were seen without physical being to cast them—a swirl of white flashed ominously—the trees rustled without wind to manipulate their dead branches. The ground was sprawled with what looked like crimson, especially around a particularly out-of-place cherry blossom tree. The violent pinks were a disgrace to the gloomy and deceased color of its surrounding. Myth had it that many men had tried chopping it down but all were murdered twenty-four hours later with failed attempts to rid the cemetery of the brutally shaded tree. Myth also had it that only when innocent blood was shed onto the grounds of the graveyard, did the tree shed a tender, rosy petal. Just one petal.

A hooded figure in lifeless colors of gray and black lightly walked over the dim rocks adorning a very thin, dull pathway. The figure's footsteps were not at all heard, perhaps muffled by the gravel upon which he stepped evenly over. The hooded man walked off the pathway and gently walked over the ground, almost as if trying to preserve the last bits of dusty, clumpy grass that had been trotted over countless times and were deprived of sunlight. He stopped before a tombstone that read:

Draco Malfoy

1980 – 1997

The words were neatly etched into the rock in a cursive font that stood out from the other headstones. Moss grew faintly around the edges of the soft curves that confined the rock.

The hooded man lowered his charcoal-black hood as a large clock miles away struck midnight with chimes of the greatest despair. His eyes were gray and narrowed slightly, accompanied by long, dark eyelashes. The complexion of his face was that of somebody who had not seen sunlight in a long time, cooped up in dark dungeons or fatal towers that only moonlight seemed to reach. He had a crooked nose that was slightly overlarge for his face, and rosy petal-like lips that were parted ever so slightly. Long, wispy blonde hair fluttered in a soft night breeze as he lowered himself onto his knees and placed pale, milky hands onto the tombstone.

Minutes passed as this man sat carefully, hands gripping the dark gray granite. When he finally let go, it was to wipe away a trickling tear that had wound its way out of his steely eyes.

The man thought of his beautiful son—his heir, the only one who'd ever read into his emotional scars left behind from battles, the only one who'd comprehend with his desolation and grief. Lucius Malfoy was only understood by the dead. His father and mother had died, leaving him with a cheap wife and a blessing of a boy. Alas, blessings were extinguished with a whisper of wind—Narcissa was the only one left alive for Lucius now. She was worse then having nothing, having no one.

A very faint rustle drew the man's attention away from the tombstone and onto two, puny sauntering figures that were walking directly towards him.