Witch Weekly—The Magic of Three
March 3, 2007—What it must be like to have the life of a princess, most of us will never know, but the five daughters of Épiphanie and Draco Malfoy must certainly have an idea. The triplets, Aoede, Melete and Mneme were born as the world rang in 2006. In addition to being the first children born in 2006, the three are the first ever magical triplets in recorded history!
Epiphanie Malfoy, the daughter of Britain's Minister of Magic, and her husband, Draco Malfoy, who is the owner of the Wiltshire Dragons Quidditch Club, as well as one of Europe's oldest Apothecaries, are also the Earl and Countess of Salisbury. Witch Weekly was over the moon to receive an invitation inside the gates of Malfoy Manor for a peek at life with the power couple and their family.
The young Quidditch stars have consistently made headlines over the last few years, beginning when they were students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Minister's daughter, newly arrived from America stunned many with her second public appearance, where she joined her then future husband in exhibiting her exhilarating broom prowess, and was later spotted toasting with Harry Potter and other veterans in Hogsmeade. Much of the wizarding world still viewed Malfoy with suspicion following the second war.
Draco has since crafted quite a new reputation as owner and starting seeker for the Dragons and as a doting father to adopted daughters Grace and Artemis, whom the couple rescued from escaped Death Eaters. The girls are frequently seen accompanying their father in Diagon Alley and notable locations across Europe. One can only assume the same will soon be said of the family's newest additions.
We arrived at the Manor and were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, each holding the infants, and Artemis, who happily held the hand of the family's nanny, Jessamine Glover. Absent was Grace Malfoy, who is currently a first-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she resides in Slytherin House. (See pg. 110 for an exclusive interview in our Today's Young Witch feature)
The children's delightful suite is decorated in muted greens and peach with an elaborate mural, that decorated even the ceiling, painted by noted artist and family friend, Dean Thomas. We were delighted by the painted fairies and dragonflies flitting around the borders of all of the rooms of the suite. Three cots draped in sumptuous bedding sat in a row beneath wall plaques of each girl's initials.
"No, we've been pretty well able to tell each of them apart," says mum, Épiphanie. "They all seem to have begun developing distinct personalities already."
"That is very true," concurs dad, Draco. "Mneme—she's the youngest—is the quietest. Still, she seems able to let you know exactly what she wants. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if she's a legilimens," he laughed. "Aoede loves music. She quiets promptly when Épiphanie sings to them, and she is the first to sleep if we play their music box." He pointed to the maypole box on the bedroom mantelpiece.
"Melete is our little investigator," said Épiphanie. "We often find her wide awake and watching everything with interest. When I talk to her, she seems to be attempting to make conversation, her little mouth trying to mimic ours!"
When asked her opinion of her little sisters, Artemis had this to say. "I think they'll be more fun when they can play with me, but they like it when I make faces at them." The young metamorphagus promptly turned her blue hair bright orange and grew bunny ears.
After tea with the family, we were given a tour of the grand house and expansive estate, which boasts a dance studio where the children will be taught ballet and social dances by their mother, an elaborate hedge maze that even Theseus himself would be reticent to attempt, and a number of conservatories featuring a vast array of magical plants, many of which, Draco explained, had been cultivated by his mother, Narcissa, whose singular passion is herbology and horticulture. Narcissa Malfoy currently resides at the family's villa in Spain, though she has visited often since the birth of the children.
Witch Weekly was thrilled to be granted permission to publish the first photos of the adorable Malfoys, with their trademark platinum hair and their mother's golden complexion and peculiar, soulful eyes. Our photographer had a ball photographing the magical trio whom we are certain will, along with their sisters, most certainly grace the pages of publications for quite some time to come!
When the reporter and photographer had finally departed, Miss Glover put the triplets down for a nap and took Artemis to the drawing room for a music lesson. Draco followed Épiphanie into their suite and wrapped his arms around her waist. She shrugged him off and pushed open the doors to the balcony, stepping out into the crisp afternoon. He trailed after her and summoned a blanket, wrapping it over her shoulders.
"My darling, you'll catch a chill," he said, attempting to embrace her once more.
"I'm fine, Draco." She looked out over the gardens below. An owl took off from the aviary and circled above the gardens before swooping down and taking a small animal in its claws.
"What's the matter, Dragonfly? Please come inside," he implored. She heaved an exasperated sigh and stepped back into the warmth of the room. Draco shut the doors and turned to her. "Talk to me?"
Épiphanie made a point of taking a seat in one of the side chairs, ensuring that Draco could not sit beside her. She crossed her arms and looked squarely at him.
"How long do you plan to wait before you tell me what happened between you and Neville? No—" she held up her hand as she watched his expression flicker between guilt and annoyance. "I didn't invade your thoughts without your permission. I didn't have to, Draco. You went to Hogwarts and came home full of talk about Grace, Harry and the Board of Governors, and bearing gifts for the children and me. Yet, you don't say a single word about your best friend? Your Sir? I can only infer one of two things—either you had a falling out—but somehow I feel like you'd want to talk to me about that—or something more intimate took place between you. Am I right?"
Draco let out a long sigh and nodded. "I just didn't know how to tell you, my beloved."
"Wow, Draco." Épiphanie shook her head. She slumped back in the chair with a huff. "So what happened?" Draco moved to her, kneeling in front of her.
"It's not what you—it wasn't a proper shag." He knew even as he spoke that his explanation was feeble at best.
"Okay, so…were you playing? What? What was it?" she asked.
"I don't know, Épiphanie! I—it just happened! It's you I really want, but it's been so long and—"
"You are not fucking turning this around on me, Draco Malfoy!" she leapt to her feet, pushing past him and summoning her wand. Draco gripped his own wand as he fell backwards, casting a disarming spell before she could point it at him.
"No, my beloved! I would never—I just—" he sighed, getting to his feet. "This thing with Neville, I don't know. It's been a long time coming, but it's no more or less than all of the other things we've done with our circle. I didn't plan for it to happen like that. I got carried away before I knew it and I let him get me off." Draco approached his wife cautiously. "I love you Épiphanie. We are bound to one another." He embraced her, but she did not reciprocate.
"I can't look at you right now, Drake." She pulled away from him, tugging her wand from his hand as she did so, and stepped into the fireplace, disappearing before he could stop her.
"Épiphanie? Come in! This is a surprise!" Dean pulled the door wide and stepped back to allow her to enter. He gave her an air kiss to avoid soiling her clothes with his paint-splattered hands and smock. The smell of baked goods hung in the air.
"Épiphanie!" Seamus exclaimed as he emerged from the kitchen carrying Eli, who clutched a large cookie. He placed him in a playpen near the window with his sister, and crossed to give her a hug. "What brings you into the city, macushla? Getting some Mommy-time? Would you like a cookie? They're fresh baked!" he offered as she sat down.
"Where's Draco?" asked Dean, tossing his smock aside and wiping his hands.
"Draco fucked Neville," she said.
"He what?" Dean stared at her, mouth agape.
"Wine. We need wine," said Seamus, running back to the kitchen.
"Not Fuoco Serpentino!" Dean and Épiphanie exclaimed together.
"Start at the beginning," Dean instructed once they each had a glass in hand. A plate of cookies sat on the coffee table. "When did this happen?"
"Last week."
"Last week? How did you find out?" asked Seamus. Épiphanie explained about the trip to Hogwarts and how Draco had avoided any mention of Neville when he returned.
"He always sees Neville when he goes to Hogwarts. There was no way he didn't spend time with him on this visit." She took a long swallow of her wine. "He tried to explain it away by making the excuse that I haven't given him any—"
"Bloody hell!"
"No, he didn't!"
"Yes, he did, honey! And then he said it wasn't a 'proper shag'. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Like that makes a difference!"
"Soo, wait a minute. You don't know what they actually did?" asked Dean.
"Well, no." She reached out and snagged a cookie, taking a bite. Emma began to whine and Dean went to pick her up, summoning a bottle from the kitchen. He pointed his wand to warm it and offered it to the infant. She sucked on it eagerly.
"Well, if he says it wasn't a proper shag, they may very well not have done anythin' but rub one off," said Seamus. "I'm totally unsurprised ta learn Draco's a switch, but I'm havin' a hard time seein' him take another bloke, and there's no way Neville's gonna bottom for anyone." He topped off their glasses.
"I couldn't care less who was on the bottom, Seamus. That's not the point."
"But to be fair, you've had everyone in our group, Épiphanie. What difference does it really make that Draco and Neville tried one on? Didn't you all even have a threesome in the clubhouse at the arena?" Dean lifted Emma to his shoulder, gently massaging her back to burp her.
"That's different. Draco initiated all of those encounters. He was there."
"Aww, love!" Seamus exclaimed.
"So that's what you're mad about," said Dean.
"I beg your pardon?" Épiphanie crossed her arms and looked indignantly at her friends.
"You're not mad that they hooked up. You're mad that you didn't know." Dean bounced his daughter on his knee and made faces at her.
"Yeah. So?"
"Auntie 'Piphanie is jealous swee'pea! She didn't get to watch Uncle Neville shag Uncle Draco!" Dean teased as he grinned at his daughter. Épiphanie scowled.
"Be glad you're holding your kid, Thomas. Otherwise I'd hex you." He blew her a kiss and she made another face, draining her wine glass and refilling it.
"But, Épiphanie it doesn't seem as if Draco was sneakin' around behind your back, an' he had every intent of tellin' ye wha' happened."
Épiphanie scoffed.
"Épiphanie, Draco is not going to leave you. He'd move heaven and earth for you. For Merlin's sake, he fought off hundreds of dementors for you! If Voldemort came back tomorrow, he'd probably try to jump in front of his wand for you too," said Dean.
"Assumin' she didn't beat him to it," Seamus added, smiling. Épiphanie grimaced, thinking of the fact that she had actually done that very thing during their leap through time. He set down his wine glass and wrapped his arms around her. "Draco loves you, macushla. He didn't think. Neville has that effect on people—kind of like you. Tristan and Iseult ye are. The way I see it, ye've got two choices. Go home and make Draco grovel for yer forgiveness then shag him till he forgets his name, or hex the shit out of him and Longbottom and shag the sexiest bloke ya know!" He grinned, planting a kiss on her cheek. Épiphanie smiled reluctantly.
"Yeah, you're not shagging our best friend, babe," said Dean. Épiphanie laughed.
"It's a little late for that now," she pointed out. They all laughed, lifting their glasses.
Draco sat at his desk swirling the melting ice cubes in his glass. He studied the cut crystal double old-fashioned in the firelight and sighed as the clock struck ten o'clock. Épiphanie had yet to return and he was beginning to worry. He had taken the floo to Antares Hall immediately after she had departed, only to find it empty. He wasn't sure where she could have gone. His first thought was to go to her parents' house on the other side of the park, but that would necessitate an explanation he didn't want to go into. He decided the same would be the true of fire-calling any of their friends, so he returned to the Manor to wait…and wait.
There was a knock at the door and he started, knocking over his glass in his haste to stand. Jessamine poked her head in the door.
"Yes, Miss Glover?" he waved his wand to clean up the mess and sank back into his chair.
"My Lord—" Draco cringed at the mention of the title, but the nanny seemed to take no notice as she continued. "Lady Artemis has had her bath and a story. She's in bed. I went ahead and gave the babies each a bottle, as Lady Salisbury has not returned. They've all been bathed and put down for the night."
"Thank you, Miss Glover."
"Right then, good night, Lord Salisbury." She curtsied and turned to go.
"Good night, Miss Glover—ah by the way, we aren't quite so formal here. Malfoy is perfectly fine. I'm not my father."
"Yes, sir. Good night, Mr. Malfoy." She withdrew.
Draco took his glass and went to the shelf where his select liquor decanters sat on a silver tray, pouring himself two fingers of scotch. He looked longingly at the hookah tucked behind the bottles and wished that he could lose himself in some prime hashish. Of course, given the wreck he'd made of his relationship the last time he did so, he knew it wasn't worth it, particularly given that it was Neville who had sold him the highly potent cannabis. Épiphanie had only threatened Neville last time, but if Draco were to get high this time, after everything else he'd done to upset her, she'd probably murder him. He sighed and downed the scotch. Draco leaned on the shelf and rested his forehead on his arm.
"Please come home, beloved." He whispered. The flames in the fireplace glowed bright green and Épiphanie stepped out. Draco spun around. "Épiphanie!"
He rushed forward, but stopped himself before pulling her into his arms. "I'm glad you came back," he said.
"We should talk." Épiphanie moved unsteadily towards the shelf and picked up a decanter. She poured a glass of cognac, spilling a bit as she did so.
"Are you drunk?" Draco asked as she stoppered the bottle and licked her fingers.
"Yep!" She turned and raised her glass in salute. "Cheers." She lifted the glass to her lips, but Draco took it from her.
"I think you've reached your limit, beloved. Please, let's just talk about this." He tried to pull her into his lap as he sat down at the desk, but she resisted. "Ma Zirondelle—"
"Don't. Not right now." She crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of the desk. "Do you remember the night before the bachelorette party? When you gave me the necklace?"
"Of course I do, I—"
"I asked you how deep your relationship with Neville was, Draco. Are you in love with him?"
"What?" Draco sat up now.
"It doesn't bother me if you're bisexual, Draco." Épiphanie's voice hitched as a tear slid down her cheek. "But I can't compete with someone like Neville. If you're in love with him—"
"I'm not in love with Neville!" Draco leapt to his feet and took Épiphanie's arms. She pushed him away, but he held her tightly. "Épiphanie, it was a mistake! I wasn't thinking. I do remember the discussion we had that night. Nothing has changed with me, with him, and especially not with you. Neville and I care about each other, and yes, our relationship is special. It's different than with the others, yes, but you are my wife. Neville could never compete with you! You're my beginning and my end. I can't breathe without you!" He pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her insistently. "I love you, Ma Zirondelle," Draco whispered against her lips. "I need you!"
Finally, her resolve broke and Épiphanie began to kiss him back, tangling her fingers in his hair. Draco lifted her onto the desk and pushed up her skirt as he trailed kisses over her neck, his fingers lightly trailing over her legs.
"I never meant to hurt you!" he whispered. He pushed her knees apart and tugged at her panties. She lifted her hips and he slipped the lacy bottoms away, his fingers quickly returning to her pussy, massaging her clitoris. Épiphanie bit her lip hard. She didn't want to give in so easily, but her body betrayed her. It had been a long time since they had shared their passion with one another, and she couldn't deny that she had missed Draco too. She rocked into his hand and let out a soft sigh. He touched his wand and their clothes were whisked away.
Épiphanie closed her eyes and let her head fall back as Draco kissed and nipped along her shoulder and sucked on her neck, eliciting a moan. "Oh, God, yes!" She continued to run a hand through his silky tresses as he worked his fingers inside her, his thumb still moving over her clit, and trailed a line of kisses over her throat and down the center of her chest. Suddenly, her eyes flew open as his lips closed over her nipple.
"Draco don't!" she exclaimed. The sweet taste filled his mouth just as Épiphanie grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the breast milk dribbling over his wife's dark skin.
"Merlin! It's like a fountain!" he murmured. Épiphanie groaned. She swept her hands over her chest and let out a small sigh of relief as her breasts lightened a bit. Draco looked back over his shoulder and noticed a once-empty carafe on the shelf was now filled with milk. He turned back to her, brushing his lips over hers uncertainly.
"Just…don't touch my boobs," she said, nipping his lip. Draco let out a whinging growl. She rolled her eyes, and he deepened the kiss, grabbing her hips and pulling her to the edge of the desk. He pushed her backwards until her back was against the cool leather inlay and sank his cock into her with a rough thrust.
"Ah!" she cried out. Draco grabbed her thighs as he thrust over and over. "Yes!"
"Fuck, I missed you, beloved! Shit! It's like our first time all over again! So fucking tight and slick!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh my god! Oh!" she cried.
Draco leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around her throat, slowing his movements. He pulled back and stroked her slow and hard, rising up on his toes for leverage. Épiphanie arched her back, wrapping her legs about his waist. He relaxed his grip on her throat and she took a rasping breath.
"Is this what you needed?" His voice was low and husky with desire. "Did you miss me too?"
"Yes!" she breathed. "Ohhhhh! Yes!"
A soft buzz could be heard as objects around the room began to vibrate. Draco thrust harder and faster. He tightened his grip on Épiphanie's throat. She dug her nails into his skin, raking her fingers down his back as she clenched tightly around his shaft, pulling him in with her legs.
"Ssss! Fuck! Oh, fuck! I love you, ma Zirondelle!" Draco closed his eyes as he inched ever closer to the edge. He gasped at the sound of a hiss issuing forth, and stared down at Épiphanie.
"What was before is left behind; what never was is now; And every passing moment is renewed. Draco my love, my alpha, my omega, my beginning, my end; in you I live and I die, for if we should fall, let us fall together!"
And with that, Draco was completely undone. He shuddered his release and gripped the desk as he slumped forward. Épiphanie dropped her legs and sat up, resting on her elbows. He took her hands and pulled her into his lap as he retreated to his chair.
"You've never done that before," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
"What?"
"You don't know?" he inclined his head to look at the perplexed expression on her face. She shook her head. "You were speaking in parseltongue, my love!"
"Oh, damn!" she laughed somewhat hysterically. "Thank you, baby!" she giggled.
"For what?" Now it was Draco's turn to look confused. She turned and gave him a kiss.
"My boo thang fucked me so good, he had me speaking in tongues!"