Her stomach roiled from her earlier meal as Dennis installed a large sex swing in the far corner of the room. She could see that Tonks had been transformed into a caricature of Dumbledore sitting stiffly on a chintzy armchair. The likeness that Tonks had generated was blunted by the pure exhaustion in her features, lacking the trademark sparkle of the old headmaster. The little clothes imposter-Dumbledore wore were dark leather with glinting chains, a far cry from his trademark colourful robes. Imposter-Dumbledore’s wizened erection stood to attention, while the frail looking body sagged on the chair.