Title: Little Rascal
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: G
Length: 545
Content notes: Kid fic - Holmes is a child in this.
Author notes: I have recently been reading The Three Students... Btw, I realise it's unlikely Holmes would ever have been known as Holmes minor but the idea just makes me smile.
Summary: Holmes minor has been called to the headmaster's office.

The headmaster gazed at the small boy before him and raised an eyebrow.

“So, let us go through this one more time, Holmes minor. You rose at 5 o’clock while the rest of your dormitory was still asleep.”

“Yes, sir,” agreed Holmes minor.

“And you climbed out of the window and down the wall, using the ivy. You then made your way to the side entrance, disguised as..?”

“The gardener’s boy!” said Holmes minor. “I’ve noticed no-one ever pays attention to servants, sir.”

“I see…” The headmaster sighed a little. “Once at the side entrance, you broke in through a window...”

“Oh no, sir!” Holmes minor looked quite put out. “I didn’t break in. Anyone could open those window fasteners. You simply—”

The headmaster sighed again. “Well, perhaps we will leave the tutorial in burglary for another time. You ‘gained entrance’, let us say. And then you altered your disguise to become…” The headmaster consulted his notes and his eyebrows sped high up his forehead. “...the matron.”

Holmes minor nodded proudly. “I made the dress out of a sheet and two pillow cases! All handstitched as well.”

The headmaster looked at the child for a long moment. “So. You made your way to Mr. Hartford’s quarters…”

“That is correct, sir.”

“And you were aware he was away for the weekend?”

“Yes, sir. I have been…” Holmes minor prepared his words. “Observing his movements.” The boy smiled. “That’s why I disguised myself as the matron, sir. To deflect suspicion. Matron is always popping in and out of his rooms. Mr. Hartford must forever be getting poorly.” Holmes minor frowned sympathetically. “Poor Matron sometimes even has to stay there all night.”

The headmaster stared at the boy and then made a few discreet notes before looking up again.

“Putting that to one side, Holmes minor. You entered Mr. Hartford’s sitting room… Had you taken his key?”

The little boy shook his head and beamed. “No, Papa gave me a set of lockpicks for my birthday.”

“I think we’re going to be having a little talk with Papa in the near future,” muttered the headmaster. He smiled weakly. “You entered the sitting room… And you discovered the arithmetic examination papers in his desk.”

Holmes minor looked very pleased with himself. “I measured every part of the desk, and I could tell there was a hidden compartment. And by observing which areas of the desk were most worn, I knew where to push to release the compartment and so find the papers!”

“And then you copied them,” said the headmaster. He adopted a stern expression. “You know, Holmes minor, I was very disappointed in you when your housemaster told me he’d found a copy of the arithmetic examination hidden under your bed in a volume of…” Once again he consulted his notes. “...‘Poisons and Their Applications’.”

The headmaster raised his eyes to the ceiling and closed them briefly in a silent prayer.

He brought his gaze back to Holmes minor. “I simply don’t understand. You are perhaps the most intelligent boy in your year. It is not necessary for you to cheat in order to gain the highest marks—only study.”

“Well, yes, indeed, sir,” said Holmes minor. He smiled a little. “But where is the challenge in that?”