Malfoy was the kind of man who could sweet-talk the knickers off a nun. He might not have ever tried to turn his charm on her personally, but she knew the type all too well. She'd known several of them. Even lost her own knickers to a few. He must have inherited his charm from his father. Lucius was, more often than not, in the bottom of a bottle, but there had been a time when he was very persuasive. From time to time when he was sober and in desperate circumstances, the elder Malfoy still could be. He'd attempted to turn the charm on her a few times to garner a bit of influence from either her as Antonin's wife or from her as the Dark Lord's favorite pet. A couple of times she'd even been benevolent enough to help him. When it wasn't too burdensome or inconvenient, of course.