The foes hear the Veela sing and grow nervous, looking at each other, seeking reassurance, but finding only more questioning, unsure looks.
The undulating cry grew louder as the Veela drew closer. The Death Eaters started shivering, remembering well the dark tales of what Veela did to their enemies.
As the pitch of the song rose ever higher, there was a rank smell as those faint of heart emptied their bladders.
Finally, glints of silvery feathers appeared over the horizon and the Death Eaters started to understand the words.
Nobody knows who started it, but their ranks broke. Soon, a rout was underway, with the slower men being trampled by their compatriots who took no heed of their fallen comrades.
And the it came.
"DIVE!" The lead Veela, a robust woman that had Wagner seen her he would have pronounced her a Valyrie, bellowed. With a piercing wail, the Veela descended on their foes, scorching flames raining from the sky and sharp talons rending flesh.
The lucky Death Eaters perished on that day. The unlucky ones would spend the rest of their lives in Veelas' not very tender mercies.