People tend to underestimate Fleur Weasley. She seems so delicate, so beautiful, so...cunning.
She was standing behind a gargoyle, hoping her silvery hair wouldn't give her away when she saw him.
He was vicious, smelled bad, and was, fortunately for Fleur, stupid. The way he looked was enough for her to attack, but she refrained and decided to do this the veela way-seductively. She quietly stepped out from behind the gargoyle, took her wand in her left hand, placed it behind her back, and with a hip jutted out to the side, spoke.
"Bonjour." She wrapped a lock of hair around her finger as he turned to face her. She pouted her lips, and had a hypnotizing look in her eyes. He did a double take, blinking multiple times. Yes, Fenrir Greyback, like most males (although he was more animalistic), was responsive to veela magic. She released her hair, pointed at him, and beckoned her to come closer as she flipped her hair. In a trance, the werewolf came to her as she put her index finger in her mouth. He was a foot away when she put the same finger on his chest as he took in a sharp breath. She circled him, her hand following on his neck until she was behind him. She whispered in his ear whilst her hand reached down his leg into his pocket.
"I've got your vand." She felt him tense as she muttered a stunning spell and a body-bind curse for good measure. She pocketed his wand and bent down to his level.
"That vas for Remus Lupin." She bent lower. "And thees," She stood up again and mustered all of her strength. She picked up her foot into a graceful passe before slamming it down onto his groin. "Vas for my husband." She walked away, anxious to get back to the thick of the battle, twirling her wand in her fingers. She looked back at him with disdain, a bad taste in her mouth.
Oui, she thought.Beauty has its advantages.