Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville.
They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same:
Harry thought they breathed.
What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so,
Harry realized that the chains were actually one word,
repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends… friends… friends…