The Head of the House of Malfoy had given her complete control over the pace, letting her ride him just how she needed. Jugson had tried to degrade her with tired insults at her purity to which she’d put a swift end by wrapping her fist around his windpipe. When Macnair started in with sexist and bigoted words, she draped a transfigured executioner’s hood over his eyes along with a wandless silencio over his mouth. When he had come for her, she was interested by how much he seemed to enjoy a taste of his own medicine with regard visual sensory depravation.