Hi guys, just did this for fun as a one-shot unless you want me to continue (: . It just popped into my head when I was reading a Kid!Lock. Reviews are welcome (:

Sherlock sat in the inner semi circle (that was how the chairs where laid out so miss could see ever one of the children), tapping the beat with his fingers. It was music, and he was twelve in three days. This was his first year at Holloway High. It was halfway into the term. The music was Mozart's Violin Concertino; the teacher had informed the not-impressed class. He closed his eyes, enjoying the music thoroughly more than his classmates, the more stupid pretending to be a conductor and waving an imaginary baton around (not in time to the music itself). He heard each instrument, each lift and perk and each low note and the texture and he loved it, finding himself smiling.

But soon miss turned the music off, and instructed the class to get into groups, get instruments and continue the work done last lesson. Sherlock opened his eyes to find that most the group had already started getting up before miss had even told them to get the instruments.

'Come on, Sherlock.' Miss came over to him, dodging out of the way of one of the boys in the class, 'You need to get back into your group.' She had always felt a little sympathetic to Sherlock. He nodded and dragged his chair over to one of the tables. His group was already there, messing with the instruments. Sherlock then went over to the shelf, trying to find his small hand drum (whoever he worked with they always gave him one of the not-important instruments, while most likely the girls got the pianos' and xylophones or glockenspiels). He didn't find it, but he continued looking. Miss spotted him looking.

'Ah, one of the other music tutors took your drum. It'll be in the room to the left, you know it?' Sherlock nodded. She smiled. 'Off you go. It won't be too hard to find but if you can't find it tell me.' Sherlock nodded again and left the room. He barley ever talked, not if he could help it. He avoided saying stupid things if he did.

He left the room and then into the corridor. There where four doors, two on either side. Two lead to tutor rooms where tutors taught individual pupils instruments. The other on the left lead to a different classroom and opposite that was the music teacher's staff room.

He knocked on the door on the left, pushing it open and relived to find it empty. He looked round for the drum, found it and turned to leave, but something caught his eye.

A violin.

He put the drum down, looking back into the corridor to make sure there where no teachers, or for that case witnesses.

The violin was a deep maroon wood and shiny. He tucked it under his chin picked up the bow. The bow strings where tight and when he ran his finger along it a small trail of dust fell down.

He placed the bow on the violin's strings and pushed down slightly, pushing the bow up.

Sherlock grinned. He closed his eyes and played the violin, feeling what he was playing. Soon he was lost in the music, not hearing anything else but the violin.

Sherlock left the class room. She had always felt sorry for him. He had a brilliant mind and was more intelligent than half the teachers here, including herself, but was bullied harshly by his peers. She went round the class, generally helping but after a few minuets realizing that she could hear the sound of a violin being played. And not just the screeching of someone who had never played before, it sounded like someone who knew what they where doing. She listened for a little longer. It was impossible that someone was playing the violin. There where only flute lessons today and non at this moment.

Then she realised that Sherlock was missing.

She gave a quick sweep of the classroom, making sure no one needed help and then walked – quickly – out of the room. She opened the door of the room Sherlock was in.

'Sherlock!' Either he was ignoring her or he was… she didn't know how to put it. Going deep into the music? She let him play. She could tell he wasn't making it up, but somehow how the tune changed dramatically every so often. Slow, fast and somewhere in the middle. But the melody was always the same.

The Violin Concertino!

Miss just sat down and listened. She knew she had to get back to her class, no doubt something had been broken or someone hurt but the music was just so good.

Suddenly Sherlock's eyes sprang open. 'Hydrogen Oxide' he almost shouted.

'What?'

'What?' He noticed miss. 'Oh. Nothing.' He then realised that miss was staring at him. 'What?'

'You! You come in here, pick up a violin and play like you've been playing for years!'

Sherlock didn't know how to react, so he settled for 'Sorry miss.'

'Don't be sorry.' She paused. 'Do you want to learn the violin?'

His eyes lit up.