A bright silver light appeared right ahead of him, moving through the trees. Whatever the source, it was moving soundlessly. The light seemed simply to drift toward him. And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak. It was a silver doe, a moon-bright and dazzling, picking her way over the ground, still silent, and leaving no hoofprints in the fine powdering of the snow. She stepped toward him, her beautiful head with its wide, long-lashed eyes held high.

— HP and DH