His mother had sobbed when she cuddled him tight and kissed his cheeks in abundance as she bade him farewell on Platform 9 and 3/4s. His father had worn a watery smile as he told him to be good and squeezed him into a hug. His brother Alex had asked him to write everyday and tell him all about Hogwarts before flinging his arms around him and whispering how much he would miss him. His five year old sister Violet had begged him not to go, tears streaming down her little red face and she clutched him tightly for several minutes. His brother William had grinned and informed him he was going to move into his bedroom while he was away (their father assured his eldest that no such thing would happen and gripped a reprimanding hand on his youngest son’s shoulder).

And then Charlie had waved goodbye to his family as the scarlet train departed the station, waving alongside his cousins David and Miles until the engine’s steam clouded their loved ones from view.

Charlie wasn’t nervous about starting Hogwarts. It wasn’t like he was without family at Hogwarts anyway. David, Miles, and John were in the year above him; Carrie and Georgette in their third year; Oliver, Amanda, Edmund, Belinda, and Benedict in their fourth; and Amelia and Sophia were starting their fifth; he was in plenty of company with so many cousins looking out for him.

There was no reason for Charlie to be nervous. It wasn’t as if he had put on a brave face to spare his little sister’s tears and to grant his mother peace of mind.

No. Not at all. He was fine. Really.

Even as he waited in line in the Great Hall to be sorted in front of the entire school he wasn’t nervous. Nope. He was fine. All he had to do was sit on a stool and plonk a talking hat on his head. There was nothing even remotely nerve-wracking about that.

And so what if the Sorting Hat sat silently on his head before clearing it’s throat to politely announce that actually a mistake had been made, that Charlie Colin Bridgerton was a squib and shouldn’t have been invited to Hogwarts in the first place? These things happen, and he would simply shrug it off and go home and everything would be fine. Really it would.

“Bridgerton, Charlie.” Professor Danbury beckoned.

He definitely didn’t look like a pig walking into a butchers shop as he walked up to the wooden stool and took a seat. His lip definitely wasn’t trembling as he looked out on a sea of faces staring back at him. He definitely wasn’t trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.

Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. He kept telling himself as the hat was placed on his head.

“Be brave?” a small voice said in his ear and Charlie’s breath tightened. “But what is there to fear?”

N-nothing. There’s nothing to fear. Because I’m brave.

“Ah. And do you pride yourself on your bravery?”

And it was only then that Charlie thought about it and realised that yes, perhaps he did in fact pride himself on being brave. Ever since he was five and had suffered from a rare mysterious flu-like illness and his mother had sat by his bedside night and day telling him he was her brave little soldier. He wanted to prove himself to his mother that he was in fact the bravest little soldier there ever was, that he was her very own brave little soldier. With the mightiest determination he soldiered through the illness until he was well again and from then on he had always striven to be courageous in everything he did.

He bravely chased off the pesky garden gnomes whenever they tried infiltrating the garden of My Cottage. He bravely ignored the monster he had convinced himself lived underneath his bed. He bravely told his Uncle Colin that yes his butt did look too big in those jeans and should consider going up a size.

Yes. Charlie swallowed - if he wasn’t brave, what was he?

“Are you sure?”

Yes. I am brave. I’m nothing but brave.

“Well then, if you’re so certain… GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was pulled off of him and Charlie was met by applause, especially from the table on the far left. He hurried over to the Gryffindor table (not because he was desperate to no longer be the centre of attention but because he wanted to be with his cousins) and was met by Sophia, Edmund, and Miles who were all ecstatic for him to join them.

And once he was sat among them he relaxed; he wasn’t nervous at all.

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Alexander could admit to feeling a bit scared - after all, it was normal to feel like that. Even his big brother Charlie had said he had been nervous when he first started. It was nothing to feel ashamed about.

For the last two years Charlie had written to him, telling him every little thing about Hogwarts and it had excited Alex to know one day in the not so distant future he would be joining his brother at school.

And now that day had come.

He had held onto his mother extra tight and for a while longer than he normally did (and his brothers teased him for being a mama’s boy enough as it was) when he was saying farewell to her. The night before he had shared his anxieties with her, how even though he’d have Charlie and all his cousins there that he’d still miss home and her and dad and William and Violet and Colin the cat and Clement and Ember and sleeping in his own bed and painting in his dad’s studio with him in companionable silence and her cooking and talking to her everyday.

His mother had assured him that it was natural to feel the way that he did, to already feel homesick and how he might be sad during his first week away but that once he’d settled in he’d grow to love being at school and be able to call Hogwarts his home away from home (and she promised she’d write to him every single day if that was what he wanted).

He had shared a compartment with Charlie and their cousins on the train and they provided him with enough welcome distraction from the gnawing feeling of missing home that had already formed a pit in his stomach.

But it was when he shared a boat with other first years across the lake to the great big castle that lay up ahead that he began to terribly miss home. How could the looming castle that approached him ever be as homely as My Cottage with all his creature comforts and his family?

“Bridgerton, Alexander.” Professor Danbury called.

He somehow managed to walk across to the stool and sit down and gripped onto the seat, half-wishing the Sorting Hat would refuse to put him in a house and send him packing back home where he knew he belonged.

“Why do you feel like you don’t belong?” a small voice spoke to him.

I do belong. At home. With my mum and dad.

“Ah yes. Sophie Beckett and Benedict Bridgerton.” The Sorting Hat mused. “They didn’t think they would belong either.”

What?

His mother had assuaged his fears before he left by sharing with him her own Sorting Hat experience. How she had fretted about being rejected and feared she would be forced to go live with her cruel step-mother who hated her. How scared she was to find herself not belonging yet again - and then much to her surprise and relief the Sorting Hat couldn’t make it’s mind up of what house she belonged to; it considered her worthy of belonging to any one of the four in equal measure.

He knew of his mother’s insecurities - he never knew his father had feared he would never belong.

“Mmhm. Your father was scared of living up to his brother’s expectations.” The Sorting Hat elaborated. “That he wouldn’t live up to the hefty expectations of the Bridgerton name. He wanted to be his own person but he didn’t want to stand out, he still wanted to belong.”

Alex had never known that. He had always looked up to his father and admired how self-assured and confident he was. To think of him ever feeling uncertain about his place in life was baffling and yet all at once Alex felt reassured, knowing both his parents had felt similarly to him when they had once been sat where he was right now.

“You belong. Just as much as they both did… RAVENCLAW!”

And with a crooked smile on his face, Alex slid off the stool and pelted over to the Ravenclaw table, being welcomed by Carrie and John and then joined later by his friend Julian Granville-Wetherby. He caught his older brother’s eye from the Gryffindor table and received a wink and a thumbs-up from Charlie, and as he settled into the feast, Alexander felt at peace knowing that Hogwarts would become as much as a home to him as it did to his brother, his cousins, and his parents.

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“Now I’m warning both of you; behave!”

“What was that?” William cupped his ear. “Beehive, did you say? You want us to find a beehive in the Hogwarts grounds and send it back home as a present?”

Charlotte giggled whilst their fathers furrowed their brows at the pair, thoroughly unimpressed with how unserious they were being.

“William.” his mother sighed. “Please. Just try not to wreak too much havoc. Please restrain yourself from your impulses enough to not send Professor Danbury into an early retirement. Please? For me?” she implored and cupped his cheek.

And as much as William loved winding up his father, his uncle, his siblings, and his cousins; he always drew the line when it came to his mother. He would never do anything to intentionally annoy her at the very least.

“Alright.” he sighed and his mother pulled him into a hug. “But if she just so happens to retire while I’m at Hogwarts, it doesn’t mean I tipped her over the edge.”

“For your sake, you’d better not.” his father clapped him on the back.

He had bounded onto the train, waving goodbye out the window with Charlotte and his brothers and he had guffawed when he watched his little sister trip over as she had tried to run alongside them as they departed.

During the train ride he had blown the majority of his pocket money on candy from the trolley and had pigged out on it throughout the duration, provoking Charlie into groaning with exasperation when he realised William had eaten every last chocolate and sweet he had purchased.

“You’re not going to have any room left for the feast, you do realise?”

“The feast!” William gasped in awe. “I had almost forgotten about the feast!” he murmured to himself as his imagination began swimming with the thoughts of the self-refilling plates and of all the food that would be on offer for him to indulge in.

“Well when you end up sick, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Charlie tutted in a very matter-of-factly eldest brother tone.

“Bridgerton, William.” Professor Danbury wearily waved him over after Charlotte had hurtled over to the Gryffindor table.

He had pranced forward and hopped onto the stool, eager for the lively debate he would have with the Sorting Hat for it to house him in Hufflepuff since their common room was closest to the kitchens -

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

What? You’ve made your mind up already?! You’re not even going to humour that I might be in Ravenclaw-

“Ha!” chortled the voice in his ear.

Oh I see. You think you’re so funny, don’t you?

“Why are you complaining? Did you or did you not want to be in Hufflepuff?”

… Well, I suppose-

And before Professor Danbury could take the hat off of him, William had whipped the hat off, not remotely caring it had fallen to the floor behind him as he traipsed off to the Hufflepuff table.

He waited impatiently for the sorting to be over (why did he have to be one of the fist to be sorted, being a bloody Bridgerton?) and then the plates magically filled up with food and instantly his mouth salivated.

And, contrary to his brother’s belief, William didn’t end up bringing back up his food. Instead he proudly paraded his pot belly down to the Hufflepuff common room, much to Charlie and Alex’s shared embarrassment.

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Violet had beamed with glee as she ran onto Platform 9 and 3/4s and saw the scarlet engine, her heart racing with anticipation at the prospect that she was finally going to be able to board the Hogwarts Express. She was eager to push her own trolley, to be just like her brothers and older cousins as they pushed along their own trolleys.

“Dad!” she groaned as her father got a hold of her trolley and assisted her in pushing it along. “I can push my own trolley!” she insisted (and ignored the fact that he had helped give the trolley a push through the barrier onto the platform, otherwise she wouldn’t have got much momentum out of it by herself).

“Sweetheart, it’s too heavy for you to push by yourself.”

“No it isn’t!”

“I helped pushed your brothers’ trolleys on their first day; you’re no different from them.”

She wanted to argue but as she looked back on the days her brothers were brought to the station to board the train for the first time, she reluctantly acknowledged that her dad had in fact helped push their trolleys along. And she supposed her trolley was quite heavy, what with the trunks, school supplies and owl cage piled on it.

And so she allowed her father to push on the trolley’s handlebar with her as they followed after her brothers. They met Kate and Anthony where they were waiting with Charlotte and Violet’s cousin squealed in greeting, eagerly as thrilled to see Violet joining Hogwarts for the first time.

Her mother insisted on taking photos of all four siblings by the train, since it would be the first and only year they would be at Hogwarts together since it was already Charlie’s seventh year, and then when it was time to say goodbye their mother got misty-eyed at the prospect of returning to a home empty of her children. And while typically he had always remained strong, it was the first year that their father had openly wept and he held onto Violet tightly, stroking through her hair and constantly reassuring her she would be okay, even though she had shown no sign of anxiety (and she quietly acknowledged that her father needed the moment more than she did).

Violet had fizzed excitedly all throughout the train ride as the countryside flew by and then when she sailed across the lake she had been in awe of it all as the famous castle beckoned the first years closer. She gazed all around as as they entered the school she had heard so much about over the years and then she gaped in wonder around the Great Hall as Professor Danbury led them in.

“Bridgerton, Violet.”

She sat down on the stool and waited for the hat to be placed on her head, wondering if it would be up for a discussion or if it’d shout out her house instantaneously.

“What a surprise; another Bridgerton.” a small bored voice remarked. “And which house do you suppose you belong to?”

Oh. Well… I guess wherever you think is best?

“Really? You’d be happy to be in any of the houses? It doesn’t matter where you end up?”

If there’s a house I suit more than the others then does it really matter what I think?

“But if you had to choose… which one?”

And though Violet was genuinely open to any of the houses, held no particular dislike towards any of them - there was one in particular she would be lying if she said she didn’t have her heart set on it.

Well I suppose if I had to pick… I would want to be in Ravenclaw.

All her life she had wanted to be in Ravenclaw. It was the house both her parents were sorted into, the house Alex was in, the house her Uncle Phillip and Aunt Francesca had been in. She had long pictured Ravenclaw tower and had seen her father’s sketches from his time at school; from the panoramic views from the turret, the coziness of the common room, and the bronze eagle knocker that would only let you enter if you solved it’s daily riddle. Her father would even wrap her up in his old Ravenclaw scarf to keep her warm on their winter walks and as a result she felt as though she was already a member of the house her parents had both been sorted into.

She liked to think she was worthy of the house; she felt she was smart and creative and witty enough to earn her place; though just because she wanted it, did it mean she had any right to be a part of it?

“That’s more like it… RAVENCLAW!”

And Violet beamed with delight as she hurried over to the table decked in blue, embracing her brother Alex as soon as she had reached him, elated to be in the same house as one of her brothers (specifically a brother that wasn’t William).

That night she had ecstatically written to her parents to inform them she was officially a Ravenclaw just like them and the very next morning she received a letter back from her father sharing his elation at the news on a clearly tear-stained parchment.