She could still remember the first time it had happened. The clothing had been delivered from wherever he had ordered them (definitely not Madame Malkin's, this was the finest cloth she'd ever seen) and he'd brought them to her, had her try them on for him, even though he'd had them all made to her measurements and knew that they would fit her perfectly. She had refused and refused and in the end he had Imperiused her and took her up into the bedroom and made her strip and try on all the outfits one by one, including the lingerie sets she had not noticed amidst the mass of parcels and boxes. She had smiled for him, she had thanked him and sat in his lap, she had let him take the last set off her body once done, and he had ravished her afterward. But when he lifted the curse, she had pushed him off and screamed. And screamed.