Implied sex, but no actual sex. Just conversation.
Aunt Marge slowly approached Lord Voldemort.
"Well, don't you look odd", she retorted, her dogs underneath her arms. They barked pointlessly.
"Ah yes. A filthy muggle", hissed Voldemort.
"What? You're calling me filthy!?" Aunt Marge snapped. "I happen to be pure. A pure descendant of the Scots!"
"Oh?" Voldemort looked interested. "So you're into blood, hmm?"
"Oh yes! I love blood!" Aunt Marge breathed, obviously excited. "What's your favourite blood type?"
"I'm rather fond of purebloods, myself", Voldemort smiled.
"Oooh", sighed Aunt Marge. "I quite like the B- types. B negatives are my favourites!"
"I see", Voldemort said. "You must be very selective about who you associate with, based on blood."
"Yes! Blood is very important!" Aunt Marge cried.
"I absolutely love that whole white blood cell thing, going on", said Voldemort.
"That Harry Potter!" Snapped Aunt Marge. "He has such bad blood!"
"I agree!" Cried Voldemort. "I agree completely!"
"He threatens my entire plan!" Voldemort said enthusiastically. "He needs to be stopped!"
"We can stop him together!" Cried Aunt Marge. "I love you!"
"I love you too!" Voldemort grinned. "Let's do it."
"Yes!" Aunt Marge breathed, unbuttoning her purple dress. She dropped her dogs and they barked angrily.
"Let's dream of pureblood races, together!" Voldemort breathed, embracing Aunt Marge.
"Let's eradicate that Potter!" Replied Aunt Marge.
And they got it on.
I am currently under the influence of alcohol. That should say it all.