Theo coughed and sat up straight, glowering at her. "Penny," he glowered. "You don't fucking know. Not just – I mean like we – like fucking Draco and Harry and I." He registered the confusion across her face and went on. "In fucking France. We were all in the same squad, right? Like fucking together. For the whole bloody war. Or most of it. Anyway," he hiccupped. "Harry and I, we fucking like, saved Draco's life. We did. That smug fucker would've died in 1915 if it wasn't for us. That's why," he said with a conspiratorial smirk. "That's why he can't kill me, or Potter. Of course, he's special. They both are. You are." He chuckled under his breath. "I guess we all are."