Hi all! I've had the idea for this story for a while, and I wrote this chapter about a year ago and then just let it sizzle. Wanted to post and see if it got any response from all the wonderful readers here! I know where I want to take this, and I hope you guys will read and respond! Thanks! (Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter.)

A black fog was filling the room and a slowly rising hissing sound filled the space. Hermione Granger choked on the fumes as clanging objects fell from the sky, intent on tripping her step and keeping her from her end goal. Sparks sputtered in the distance as the smoke spread, and the young witch could just spy a flickering flame in the distance, threatening to fan out.

"Help!" she shouted. "I need help!"

"What the…"

A startled voice and a quiet spell greeted Hermione, and suddenly Hermione could see her best friend Harry Potter standing in front of her with a bemused look on his face.

"What on Earth are you doing?

"I'm making breakfast," the witch replied defensively, waving a hand in front of her mouth to breath better. "I'm being helpful."

"Sure," Harry responded as he began replacing spice tins that had mysteriously ended up on the floor. Hermione turned off the stove and threw the ruined eggs in the rubbish bin. She still couldn't understand why someone who had no problem levitating a three ton animal had such problems whipping up simple cooking spells.

"What brought on this sudden urge of domesticity?" Harry asked, putting a tea kettle onto the stove. "Mrs. Weasley always makes enough food for all of us."

Hermione nodded. She knew Mrs. Weasley had no problem filling the stomachs of everyone in her home, which had become quite crowded of late. It was only nine days ago that Harry Potter had defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, also known as Voldemort, and since that time the entire extended Weasley clan had been huddled up in the safety of the family's home, the Burrow. That crew included herself and Harry, of course, as well as all the Weasley children and the occasional friend who stopped in to pay a visit. With the family in mourning over the loss of Fred, they all needed as much consoling as they could get and the kitchen table had been filled to capacity for most meals.

"I thought I would give Mrs. Weasley a break, give her a chance to have a lie in," Hermione said as she mopped up the counter with a rag.

"Bloody hell, what happened here?"

Hermione looked up as her other best friend, Ron Weasley, stepped into the kitchen. He looked like he was witnessing san event loonier than dueling pygmy puffs. Hermione immediately felt her cheeks go red.

"I was doing some culinary experimenting," Harry jumped in. "The eggs got away from me, but I've just put a kettle on."

Hermione shot Harry a thankful smile as Ron sidled up to a stool at the counter. Harry gave her a sly wink back and handed Ron a tea cup.

"What are you doing up?" Hermione asked as she took a seat next to Ron, pouring herself a cup of tea with one sugar cube. It was 7:30 a.m., an hour she had never seen Ron privy to on purpose.

"Couldn't sleep."

Hermione frowned into her cup. It was no secret Ron was having sleeping troubles. They all were. But ever since the family had made its way from the ruins that were currently Hogwarts castle and back to the relative peace of the Burrow, Ron had become withdrawn from his two best friends. She figured he had a right to be a bit broody, but she was worried about him. And, if she were honest with herself, she was worried about where the two of them currently stood. Bad enough she had decided that the heat of the battle was the perfect time to illustrate her affection for the ginger haired boy she'd loved since second year (planting a kiss on him that had seemed so logical at the time), but now she was too much a coward to even ask him if he'd like to have a second go. By the look on his face right now, she didn't think he'd be in the mood for a heart to heart anytime soon.

"Morning," Ginny sang as she walked in from the front door.

"Gin, what were you doing outside?" Harry asked in surprise. Hermione smiled to herself. Harry and Ginny had finally worked out their romantic differences after the battle and were on their way to making up for lost time, but Harry's overprotective gene was still in full force when it came to the lovely red haired girl.

"I walked to the village, Harry. You do remember the war is over, right?" Ginny skipped up to Harry and gave him a quick peck on the check, throwing something down on the counter in the process.

"I got the morning paper. I didn't want to wait for the owls to bring it."

Harry snatched up the newest edition of The Daily Prophet, beginning their ritual of scanning for the latest lies and rumors that were being spread about the Golden Trio. That's what the journalists were calling them. Harry had always been a celebrity, but Hermione and Ron's involvement in tracking down and destroying the remaining horcruxes had earned them both a level of celebrity Hermione wasn't sure she was comfortable with. In the past few days she had read news stories claiming she was the love child of two ex-Azkaban prisoners, Ron was in line to play for the Harpies and Harry wasn't actually Harry, but the reincarnated spirit of some 11th century wizard. And one of the most prevalent rumors currently being circulated was that of Harry and Hermione's supposed romance, the reporters assuming the two of them had been secretly engaged since their time camping out in the woods.

Hermione stole a glance at Ron as she thought on that, remembering how jealous a headline like that would have made him just two weeks ago. Now, no matter how salacious the Harry-loves-Hermione storyline, he didn't bat an eyelash.

"What's it say?" Ron asked quietly, stirring a spoon slowly through his tea cup.

"Surprisingly enough, it's not about us at all," Harry replied, eyeing the front page.

"I know," Ginny said, a note of excitement in her voice that Hermione hadn't heard for some time. "That's why I was so anxious to grab it. I had a floo call with Hannah Abbott last night, and she told me the first candidate for the Sylvan Princess would be announced today!"

"The who for the what now?"

"Oh Ron, don't you follow pop culture at all?" Ginny asked exasperated, grabbing the paper from Harry's hands. Ron rolled his eyes in reply and Harry tried to hide a snigger on his girlfriend's behalf.

"It's time for a new Sylvan Princess to be crowned, and it only happens once every hundred years. It could be anyone, and the candidates are being alerted so they can get ready for the trials. Oh my gosh, can you imagine being picked? It would be incredible."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be that enthused to be crowned princess of anything," Percy said as he entered the kitchen. Hermione laughed out loud, happy to hear Percy attempt a joke. He was followed by his older brothers Bill and Charlie and Hermione could tell it wouldn't be long until the whole household was awake.

"Should we do something about getting breakfast started?" Hermione asked the room at large.

"I can handle that," Ginny announced quickly, throwing Hermione a skeptical look.

"I wheel help," Fleur sang in response as she floated in. Hermione could almost see a cloud of perfume surrounding the beautiful half-veela. As Fleur and Ginny got to work the Weasley men fell into conversation about the day's plans, and Harry took Ron's now empty seat beside Hermione. He plopped the paper down between them, inviting Hermione to read along with him.

First Sylvan Candidate Named: Hunt for Princess Begins

By Tamillha Ramphurst

It was with great pride and many tears that the little town of Fillingshire produced this century's first candidate for the honorary Sylvan Princess title, one Georgiana Hastings. Miss Hastings, the daughter of a potion maker and broom cleaner, was made aware last night by the official Sylvan courtsmen that she is one of five possible young witches that will soon preside over the entire Sylvan kingdom, the ancient magical community responsible for the advocacy and shelter of second and third class animal beings.

"I'm thrilled," Miss Hastings told The Daily Prophet. "It's every girl's dream to be a princess, and now I might actually be one."

The title of Sylvan Princess opened up upon the death of the previous ruler, Her Royal Highness Princess Amelia. Suspicions are still circulating as to why the Sylvan courtsmen have waited until now to begin proceedings for the Great Trials, when Princess Amelia's death made the title eligible for conquest two years ago.

With four more candidates to be named, it is only a matter of time before the official Grand Trial can begin. Watch this space.

"What's all this about?" Harry asked, looking up from the paper.

"I've read a bit about this, there was a section on the Sylvan court in Hogwarts: A History, and one of the stories in Beetle the Bard was about the Sylvan princess," Hermione replied, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It's a very mythical group with many secrets. A lot of their practices are still unknown. As far as I can tell, they keep to themselves and only come out into the community once in a while, when it's time to claim a new girl to rule over them."

"Are you talking about the Sylvan princess?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, do you know about it?" Hermione replied.

"I was seeing this bird a few months ago and it was all she talked about. She was convinced it would be her. Guess she was wrong, huh?" he finished, looking over the paper's headline.

"Well, according to this article there will be four more possible girls," Harry said, taking off his glasses and rubbing them with a tissue.

"What's it, like, an election?" Ron asked from his seat at the table, his mouth full of bacon from a platter Fleur had just set down.

"No, it's a prophecy thing. There's all these circumstances that have to be just right to prove who the proper girl is. I guess this time it applies to five girls. That must be what this Grand Trial is for, to pick the right one."

"Hello my loves!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen entrance. All chatter stopped at that, as the now-adult children looked to their matriarch. Mrs. Weasly may have been in mourning, but she was still taking her job as caretaker incredibly seriously.

"I see you girls have gotten started. What shall we have for breakfast?" she asked, turning to Harry.

"Anything but eggs."