Black's House for Little Witches

1

A/N: I'm going to start off by reiterating that if you're not into age-play/age-regression, do not read this story. Close out the fic. No harm, no foul.

This is an Alternate Universe. No Voldemort. Bellatrix and Narcissa are very much of the rich and snooty variety, but they're not evil or, in the former's case, insane. 

Most notably, I'm playing around with timelines and character ages. This story, while mainly centering around Hermione's POV, is rooted in the idea that Bellatrix and Narcissa are already Caregivers to their younger sister, Andromeda. Bellatrix and Narcissa are much older than Andromeda. Yes, I'm completely disregarding canon timelines, events, and characterizations. No, I do not care. This is a very niche, self indulgent fic that I'm posting for fun. If anyone happens across this, great! If no one does, no big deal. At least it's not just sitting in my Google docs. 

There is some world building in regards to the classifications stuff, but I'm not delving too deeply into it. It's really just there as a reason to have Littles in the first place. There will also be some Weasley-bashing throughout the story, but mostly in the first couple of chapters. Not anything too egregious, mostly just that they were a terrible host family. There will also be references to past torture. It's part of Andromeda's backstory. 

I'll add more notes if/when more chapters are posted. Maybe I'll decide to abandon this. Who knows?

If you happened to make it this far in the note, I hope you enjoy what's below. :)

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Hermione sat in a chair in the Headmistress's office inside Hogwarts. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt like she might throw up. Had something gone wrong with her NEWTs? Did they think she cheated? Worse, did she only get an Acceptable on any of her subjects?

The door to the office opened, and Headmistress McGonagall stepped inside, followed by the Hogwarts Matron Poppy Pomfrey, who held a folder in her hands.

"Miss Granger, I'm sorry to have to call you here," McGonagall apologized as she sat behind her desk.

"Did something go wrong with my NEWT submissions?" the young witch asked.

The headmistress shook her head. "No, no. Your tests were fine." She made a small noise of remembrance and pulled a file from the table behind her. "In fact, I have your scores here."

"Already?" Hermione asked, surprised. She'd been told it took weeks for the results to be reported.

"Yes. The Board approved a larger budget for a grading committee a few years ago," McGonagall explained as she handed over the file. "Dozens of experts in each subject are contracted to grade essays and the practicals." She received a tap on the shoulder from Madam Pomfrey. "Ah, but the logistics don't matter. We're not really here to discuss your scores."

"Well, this can't be right," Hermione stuttered as she read the reports in the file. "I only received an O in Muggle Studies, History of Magic, and Arithmancy?"

McGonagall nodded. "That is correct."

"But, but that can't possibly be right."

"I assure you, Miss Granger, that no mistakes were made in the grading of your tests," the headmistress stated.

"How can that be? I did everything right!"

McGonagall sighed. "Miss Granger, while your essays were sound, your practicals were not. The essays could only carry your grade so far."

Hermione frowned. "But my demonstrations were nearly perfect."

"Not quite, dear," Madam Pomfrey finally spoke. "It might have seemed that way to you, but the proctors handling the exams noticed some... shortcomings," she explained, trying her best to keep her tone sympathetic while being honest.