Theo snorted. "Potters always had their minions," he said. He'd never had a need for that, neither to be one or to have them. He'd seen the way Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco around, but he'd refused to indulge him in that. Instead they'd been friends like equals, rather than attached by the hip.
"We'll speak to Stephen at dinner tonight," he said, his free hand slipping to her shoulder, squeezing the knots in her shoulder. "How are you holding up?" he then asked, because while he refused to speak of his emotions, there was no reason why he could not support Pansy to speak about hers.