Right now, Lizzie had decided, was her favourite time.

A Saturday afternoon, like all the Saturday afternoons since their children had been born, where herself and her husband dealt with any work affairs not resolved in the week in the morning, before their children woke up, then once their son and daughter had eventually plodded downstairs in their pyjamas, the family would share pancakes, laughter and many cups of tea.

As the day moved into the afternoon, the family, usually still in their pyjamas, and followed by the two lazy Labradors, and the three scruffy cats, would slowly rise from the breakfast bar, with their tea, and take up their favourite spots in the library. William always chose his fathers chair, a large and well worn arm chair that sat in the dead centre of the room. Lizzie, ever seeking comfort, always chose the low lying half egg shaped chair, and curled up. Their children, Anne and Robert, would annoy their father no end, and move the small two seater sofa, which as they grew was starting to only fit one of the them, from the far side of the library to in front of William, imploring him to read to them.

Every week without fail, this happened, and yet Lizzie still marvelled at her dear husbands face, with mock anger as the sofa appeared before him, and his fake disappointment at not being able to read the weekly report from work (which Lizzie knew he had already read twice, at least), and she never tired of seeing the faces of her growing children as William would reach out to the book the had decided upon.

This particular week, Lizzie was about to settle into her copy of Anna Karenina (a fruitless attempt, as she was always thrown off from her book by Will's voice mere yards away), when the book Robert was carrying caught her eye. It was a book she had brought to the library when she had moved in, a year before she married Mr Darcy, and she had been shocked that he did not own a copy, and had not read it. The gold glint of the front cover shone, even after all this time, and the book itself had certainly seen better days, it's binding and cover were falling apart, but Lizzie did not care, this book was her memories, her most important life lessons, her childhood.

"Papa, can you read this today?" Anne asked

William eyed the book, and glanced ever so quickly at Lizzie, who he noticed was staring in earnest at the book, an odd look between ultimate happiness and sadness upon her face, and replied,

"I think your mother is better suited to the job today."

Anne and Robert swivelled around, as a single tear fell from Lizzie's eye.

"Mama? Would you please read this to us?"

Lizzie croaked "I would love to read it to the three of you"

Robert, that moment faster than his sister, spun on his heels again,

"Dad, you haven't read it either?"

"No son, I haven't"

Lizzie took these few seconds while her husband spoke to her son to compose herself.

"I will read this to you, I promise, but I have to explain some things first"

Her children nodded excitedly, and Lizzie swore she saw Will nod, almost imperceptibly.

"This book is very special to me. I have had it since I was very little, and as you can tell, I read it many times. This story will stick with you forever, and it taught me so many lessons. It is amazing, but very long, but I promise you, stick with it until the end, and you won't regret it. Ready?"

They all nodded again.

Yes, Lizzie decided, this was her favourite moment, her children completely enthralled and ready, and her husband, in his melt you on site hipster glasses, Lizzie felt so much at home, just as she did when she first read this book.

"Ok then, lets start. Mr and Mrs Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much..."