Chapter Text
“The world is coming to an end,” proclaimed Benedict Bridgerton in his usual dramatic fashion as he strolled into the breakfast room of Aubrey Hall, lazily clutching a stack of hastily-opened envelopes.
Not a single soul across the room responded to this dramatic cry, given that they were well used to the theatrics of their second eldest brother. Instead, the Bridgerton siblings of varying ages and temperaments continued to feast upon the veritable buffet of delicious pastries and delicacies prepared officiously by the house elves, helping themselves to more jam and clotted cream.
Grabbing an apple from the sideboard as he sauntered towards his eldest brother, who at this moment was sat at the head of the table scrupulously heaping raspberry jam on his toast, Benedict made quick use of the marginal space offered by the vacant armrest and plopped himself on the makeshift seat, only slightly displacing his brother.
Anthony, quite used to the invasion of personal space that usually came with being the eldest of seven siblings, sharply elbowed him in solar plexus in an effort to remove his brother’s offending person from the occupied seat. Truly, one must assert dominance in this rambunctious zoo of a family, if one ever hoped to get out alive.
“Play nice,” murmured the matriarch sat to Anthony’s right distractedly, as she attempted to corral Gregory into having another spoonful of oatmeal. Gregory, however, was decidedly not having it.
“Are those our Hogwarts letters?” inquired Eloise, who sat left of the table closest to Benedict, and was thus easily able to identify the crest of their boarding school, as Benedict doubled over in pain and misplaced his grip on the stack in his effort to maintain his hold on his apple.
Making quick work of the toppling letters, Eloise ignored all principles of her ladylike training which her mother had so meticulously attempted to instill in her, by diving across the corner of the table and catching the stack before it fell. However, this attempt caused her to lose her footing enough to ungraciously slam her chin directly onto the birchwood table, causing the china to clatter and the occupants of the room to simultaneously bemoan “Eloise!”
Nonetheless, Eloise managed to emerge triumphant from her war with the ancient furniture of Aubrey Hall, eagerly waving around the pile of letters which clearly showed varying renditions of “Dear [insert respective Bridgerton], I am pleased to welcome you back…”
Yet, the eagle-eyed gaze of the most favorite sister of the Bridgerton clan (as decreed by the Bridgerton Awards of 1985) snagged upon one offender from the lot, dropping the other letters in lieu of clutching the offending article with a claw-like grip, and reading in a disbelieving voice, “Dear Anthony Bridgerton, I am pleased to inform you that you have been chosen for the position of Head Boy for your seventh and final year at Hogwarts…”
Only, she didn’t quite get to finish her recitation, as the rest of the Bridgerton clan broke out in various exclamations of “what!”, “nice one, Hyacinth!”, “surely, you must be joking” and “God help us!” across the table.
To the surprise of no one, Violet Bridgerton, sufficiently distracted by this proclamation enough to stop feeding Gregory, promptly burst into tears of joy.
"Oh my dear," she said with a watery smile, "just like your father!"
“I told you the world is ending!” exclaimed Benedict, as he straightened himself up and leapt off the armrest to round the corner of the table, picking up the glittering Head Boy badge which had fallen out of the parchment that Hyacinth still clutched tightly in her hands. He played idly with the badge, turning it over various times and holding it up to the light as if to check whether or not this was a prank of epic porportions.
Gregory, who had never been interested in eating his sorry-looking porridge to begin with, jumped off his seat and onto the table, arms outstretched towards his elder brother crying “Show!”
Benedict, ever the loving brother, held it out to him before snatching it back and holding it high up in the air, out of his reach.
As Gregory began to whimper, Daphne, who had remained quite frozen in her seat at the opposite end of the table since Hyacinth’s earlier proclamation whispered to herself in a horrified tone, “this can’t be true”.
Now, Daphne was normally the most maternal and nurturing of all her siblings - the most like Violet Bridgerton in both looks and temperament. As the eldest sister in the family, she celebrated every achievement with unrestrained joy, and cried in empathy should anything unfortunate become her siblings.
Therefore, the barely whispered admonition should have come as a shock to the rest of her siblings, were it not for the fact that her eldest brothers, now exchanging smirks amongst themselves as Colin stared pointedly at her, knew exactly how Anthony intended to use his newfound authority.
Daphne, who had been intending of making the most of her second-to-last year at Hogwarts in honeymoon bliss with her boyfriend of nearly a year (by using Simon’s access as a prefect to snog him senseless in the prefect’s bathroom), knew her best laid plans had just been laid to rest.
Slouching in her chair, Daphne steadfastly avoided eye contact with her pain-in-the-arse-even-if-he-meant-well-but-OH-could-she-ever-have-a-break! brother.
The brother and Head Boy in question, however, remained unaffected by this whole ordeal, bearing the unexpected news with the silence and dignity befitting his lofty station, as his cheeky younger siblings jumped and paraded around him.
Anthony thoughtfully chewed his toast, choosing to recline back into his seat with an air or gentlemanly ease and leisure. Just as a part of Daphne relaxed in the hope that perhaps this news had imparted a newfound sense of wisdom and maturity in her brother hitherto unheard of, he spoke with complete and utter solemnity.
“Well, its about time”.
Daphne, Francesca and Eloise promptly threw their butter rolls at him.
“Ow!”
“God have mercy on whomever’s chosen to be Head Girl next to him,” mumbled Francesca, sharing a commiserating look with Daphne as she returned to buttering her toast. “And may Merlin see us through this year in one piece”.