He took the old copy of Wuthering Heights in his hands, "They are, but that’s not why I’d like you to have them. My mother loved the Brontë sisters." He smiled to himself, "She kept a shelf in the back corner of the Manor library filled with muggle literature, hidden behind a notice-me-not charm. I don’t know if my father knew about it, but she used to pull a book off the shelf and read to me when I was small, telling me that it was our secret. These were hers and I know you’ll disapprove of their defacing, but she annotated them."