[OLD] Before Hogwarts | Chapter 3

The evening was a silent one with only the endless rain hitting against the inhabitants of Berk's windows as their only companion in this gusty weather. Waves clawed at the edge of the small island and the ships rose and rocked in the distance. Such silence was a rare occasion and most Vikings hoped it would remain this way. For once, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock - the third - was with them. On any other day, he would hope that he could get outside and maybe manage to kill a dragon. That was what really mattered around the sturdy island of Berk. Killing a dragon meant everything. Just harming one might bring some attention to him and perhaps then everybody wouldn't see him as a useless squib. He might be able to do something.

Hiccup shook his head. What was he thinking? That he could be useful in battle? Just glancing in the mirror made him groan. He was definitely not the stereotypical Viking with his thin-limped figure and diminutive height. Certainly he bore his father very little resemblance both in looks and in his nature. Even if he could cast a spell, which definitely wasn't the case, it wouldn't matter. They didn't seem to work with him, no matter how hard or how correct the hand movements were, it wouldn't work for him. Let's face it, he was useless.

Hiccup grimaced. No, he couldn't be that negative to himself. He had to believe that he could do something, that he was a wizard just like his father. Most Vikings on Berk were wizards or witches, few were just regular muggles. Or as regular as dragon killing Vikings could be. Honestly, even if what they lived in was a modern society filled with technology, the Vikings in the Barbaric Archipelago lived more or less as what they did three centuries ago. Technology wasn't really their thing. That's what Hiccup thought. Even though he had few electronic things, most of the time they just stood there catching dust. They were useless without electricity or the thing called Wi-Fi - whatever that was. But even with this kind of technology, it wouldn't help them defeat the dragons. If magic couldn't even break through their impenetrable scales and just harm them a little, then what could?

Suddenly, a crack of lightning jolted Hiccup to his senses. He yelped in surprised, jumped on top of the couch and just as he slipped awkwardly down in it, his father burst in, his beard soaking wet and his cheeks burning red.

"Dad," Hiccup said in surprise, scrambling to straighten himself up - a chief's son shouldn't be scared by a little lightning - as his father quickly closed the door, "you're back."

"Yeah, but not for long," he grunted before stepping up the pace to get his weapon; a sword in his belt and a hammer in his hand. "Your uncle saw a Monstrous Nightmare looming in the woods and keeping watch over the village. The other dragons must be on their way by now."

"So, there's about to be an attack?" The want for silence to remain was quickly replaced by thrilling thoughts of, perhaps, killing a dragon tonight.

Hiccup began feeling the excitement rushing through his blood and a small smile slowly started to form along his lips.

Stoick the Vast turned around, hammer in one hand, shield in the other. He pointed the stone weapon at his son in what would seem to be a menacing way. "Don't even think of going outside, Hiccup," he warned, eyes narrowed and a disappointed scowl in his voice that made the small boy shrink in his place. "It's dangerous, and the last thing I need is for you to bring chaos to the village. Again."

Hiccup's eyes grew in defeat before he sighed. "But dad, I just—"

"No, son!" Stoick said firmly before softening slightly when he saw Hiccup's innocent and disappointed expression. He placed his hammer aside and approached the small Viking. "Listen," he started, his vast, battle-scarred hand resting on Hiccup's shoulder, "one day, I promise, one day you can go and fight dragons along with me. But until the time comes, I want you to stay inside where it's safe."

Slowly and warily, the chief's son raised his head and Hiccup's green eyes met his father's reassuring matching pair. He smiled softly, and as a reflex, Hiccup smiled back. It actually felt good to be accepted, or more correct said, loved, by his father. It wasn't a very common thing that his dad showed this affection towards Hiccup. In fact, he—

The horn blew. And soon, roars and battle cries could be heard outside the cottage.

Stoick pattered his son's head, ruffling his auburn hair before turning on his heel. "You stay here, Hiccup," he said gently. He turned when he reached the door with a serious expression, seeing his son would disobey him. "I mean it."

Hiccup nodded his head, an eager to just sprint past his father and go outside in the dying rain. But he promised to stay inside, and as the door closed behind Stoick, Hiccup was left with the emptiness, the loneliness of the house to himself.

-:-

He watched on in grief from his open window. How many hours had it been since the attack started? The Misfit Viking had long ago stopped counting the minutes, let alone the hours. It was just too boring and so unfair to be ordered to stay inside without doing anything. He could understand that Stoick only told him to stay inside for safety reasons - both for his own and the villagers' -, because he cared for Hiccup, he didn't want to lose him to the dragons the way he lost his mother. So all the young wizard Viking could do was stare into the flaming night of battle. But still, still, he wanted to be out and part of the others. Part of something, to feel respected.

'Just for once, couldn't he take a look at things from my perspective? It wouldn't really hurt, would it?' Hiccup thought, the need to go out and kill a dragon, well, was killing him from the inside. He would bet his leg that his father would have gone out if he was ordered inside. But then again, as a child, Stoick knew what he was, what he had to become, heck they even say the man popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders when he was a baby. Did Hiccup believe it? Yes, he definitely did.

But still, he longed to get out there. Just being among the Vikings, doing anything, killing a dragon or not, he would do anything to just get out. To get a chance of proving himself to the other Vikings, but most of all prove himself to his dad.

And for the Misfit Viking, things were about to get interesting and he would get his wish. Because in the moment of unawareness, a dragon - and not just any dragon - could be heard. Its whining sound of an attack was the only thing Vikings ever saw, well, heard, of it. It hides in darkness of the night, never steals food, never shows itself and never misses its target. They call it the—

"Night Fury!"

Most men and woman shielded themselves, others were shocked into stillness and was blinded when the dragon fired a plasma blast at a catapult and from a far, Hiccup watched in awe as he just managed to spot the silhouette of the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. He cracked a smile. Although it was frightening him to death of all the power these dragons contained, it also excited him as Thor's rage.

A roar snapped him out and suddenly, the fear was all that was within Hiccup's soul. When his head had, slowly, turned to his right, he screamed before throwing himself down on his bed. A Monstrous Nightmare had tried to get hold of him with its sharp claws, only for its prey to flee like the scared rat he was. Setting itself on fire, the dragon felt rage flow through its body and in the next second, it opened its mouth and let the flames it concealed within take control of the house.

Hiccup shouted in fright, ran down the stairs and quickly used the front entrance - or exit in this case - to get out of the flaming and falling cottage. He turned around, groaned as he watched his home bit by bit turn into ash and go up in smoke.

'Well, so much for staying inside. Can't even be safe there either.'

However, the battle cries brought a smile to Hiccup's lips and as he turned around, the Isle of Berk was in flames, Vikings against dragons, dragons against Vikings. Sometimes he wondered why they never left this place, but then again, he already knew why. Being a Viking meant you also had stubbornness issues. All of them had. Himself included.

With a satisfied grin placed on his face, Hiccup set off to the forge where he knew his teacher Goober would be at. All the long way down to the end of town, people would shout and tell him to get inside and what he was doing, but Hiccup ignored them all. This was his chance, now he finally could show them all that he wasn't a disaster. He would prove them that he was useful.

His attention briefly went to the torches being raised again and as a result for his distraction, a Monstrous Nightmare open fire and set the grass a blaze.

"Hiccup!" A large hand grabbed onto his collar and jerked him high in the air just before he went head-first into the flames. "What are you doing outside?!"

Hiccup yelped and stared into the rage of his father's emerald eyes. "Dad, I, uh…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Stoick barked and roughly placed his son back onto his feet, pushing him away towards home. "Get inside! It's too dangerous so go home!"

"Right, and there I'll be safe among the ashes of our house," he gave back with his usual sarcastic tone. His father stared confused and angry at him, about to say that this was not a joke, as usual. But the Misfit Viking was ahead of the chief of the Hulligan tribe. Hiccup motioned his head to the top of the hill where the house was in flames and on its last legs.

Seeing as the roof completely collapsed, Stoick groaned and motioned Hiccup to get moving but with a warning of staying with Gobber.

"Don't worry, dad. I won't move from your right hand man!"

And with that said, he was gone. Gone from the worst part of the battle field, gone from where he could be harmed, gone from where he would bring disaster, and now he could see the forge coming into view, with Gobber himself standing in the middle of it all and tossing out swords and daggers, hammers and axes, to men and women. He turned around to spot the young boy taking off his furry brown vest and tossed it aside as he entered the workshop.

Gobber chuckled, clapping the eleven-year-old on his back before resuming his work of bending a sword. "Nice of ye to join the party! I thought ye'd been carried off!"

Ah, carried off by a dragon. Not only did the dragons go for their food, but villagers were also taken. But it was mostly the elderly and children that were taken sadly. Old grumpy Mildew on the top of Berk with his sheep, himself and his cabbages. And then there was Gothi, the elder of the village and the wisest of them all. Those two were the only ones left to represent to old generation. Children were there few of, himself included and his friend Fishlegs, along with Snotlout - his annoying cousin -, the twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and lastly Astrid. The most beautiful girl the Misfit Viking had ever seen; she always made him drool. But, of course, she wasn't interested in a guy like him. He just had to get used to it. And over time, he would. But although she was beautiful, she was also a bit scary in his opinion.

Hiccup grinned back and rolled up his sleeves before accepting different broken weapons from the other Vikings who came in and demanding for new weapons from Gobber.

"Actually I was very close to. But that Monstrous Nightmare decided to mess with the wrong Viking," Hiccup said, bringing the metals over to the hot coal before blowing more air into the forge. "I mean," he grunted between each push on the blow, "look at all these muscles. He didn't know what was coming."

Of course, Gobber didn't believe that little liar. Hiccup couldn't swing an axe, couldn't carry a hammer, not even throw one simple bola. But instead of scolding him, Gobber played along with the chief's son. He chuckled warmly, the sweat running down his forehead. "Why, of course he didn'. Never underestimate the chief's son, eh?"

"Exactly!" Hiccup said proudly. Good thing he was friends with Gobber, otherwise he would feel awfully awkward now as he swiped the sweat away from his own forehead and chuckled.

Being out in the field sure was better than staying indoors in the middle of a battle, everyone could agree with that. But as time moved by in the forge and with Gobber gone out to help his fellow comrades, Hiccup began to worry. Today was finally the day. Well, it would have been the day if all these dragons weren't there. This was not just a normal day of being in the field, helping Gobber while watching the people fight against the nasty creatures, no; it was far from just a normal day. Today was the day that all eleven-year-old's - who were either witches or wizards - would get their letters from Durmstrang Institute. And Hiccup so much hoped he would be accepted. That way he would and could become something. Even though studying was more for the people like Fishlegs, which not many children became like, he still saw the chances ahead of him. And he could just feel it in his stomach that he would get his letter. Not only did he have to get it, but he had also experienced a few weird things since the end of autumn. Of course, he knew that his emotions going wild would cause some unnatural phenomenon, but they haven't been the big things. And mostly when something happened, one of his acquaintances would always be there so he was never sure if it actually was him who had caused those weird stuff or not. But no matter what, Hiccup knew he had to get in. If he didn't get in than he was sure that he would be doomed for his next four lifetimes.

The battle against the dragons raged on, and there should only be an hour until sunrise. The dragons usually left at sunrise, nobody knew why though. They just did. But Hiccup's worries were with the letters. Where were those stupid owls? They should have been here by now. And knowing Durmstrang, if you lost your letter it was just tough luck for you. You wouldn't get another one until the year after.

Biting his lip in tension, Hiccup turned out to the darkness of the water. Still no sign of the owls. Or wait a second… was that…

The Misfit Viking widened his eyes in disbelief, his heart racing several miles per hour. Yes, it was them! Finally, their letters were here!

Hiccup sighed in relief and took a few steps away from the forge, only to scamp back to safety - and stumble over his feet in the process - when fire came raining down on his head. A Grunckle landed near him, walking towards him and Hiccup crawled backwards as fast as he could. But the Grunckle didn't want to play, instead it decided to finish the child right where he was, so when it opened its mouth, Hiccup watched as his life flashed before his eyes. The light from the charging shot became more intense, more intense and…

Hiccup covered his head as soon as the shot missed him. He clenched his eyes, hoping to wake up in Valhalla.

"Hiccup, you big, thick-headed, idiot! Get up!"

Carefully opening one eye, he spotted his cuisine bend over. "S… Snotlout?"

"Yes, it's me. And come on, we need to get away!" He shouted before roughly pulling up on his cousin's sleeve. "Thank my father for saving your ass. You've been fried if he hadn't punched that dragon away from your ugly face," he sneered before the both of them were running out of town, dodging as much as they could from the fire and out-of-control angry dragons. "If it was me, I would have let you face the glorious death. Besides, no one wants a useless squib like you."

"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup said sarcastically before rolling his eyes, jogging at a good pace behind Snotlout. But then the hazel-green orbs widened a short second after. A squib, although Hiccup definitely didn't like to be called that - even though he was pretty sure he was a squib - something snapped within him when the words of a non-magic person was spoken.

He pulled on Snotlout's sleeve, stopping their running seconds later.

"Wow, hey! Let go!" He shouted, trying to get Hiccup's grip off him but, god he wasn't as weak as he looked and kept his grip firmly.

"Snotlout, you don't understand! The owls they're—"

"Who cares about the owls!? I just want to get out of here alive!" He managed to get free of his cousin's grip, running off without looking back and leaving Hiccup to himself. If he wanted to get the owls then it would be his funeral and the Jorgenson wouldn't let it be his, too.

"Snotlout! Argh!" The Misfit Viking was angry and frustrated. Although his cousin was right, Hiccup couldn't just stand there and do nothing. The owls were almost here and by the looks of things, they could be the next victims for the hungry dragons. He couldn't allow this to happen. Whether or not one of those four owls had his letter, he had to make sure they came safely away from the dragons.

'Wait, one, two, three, four…'

He was right. There were only four owls, each having a letter rolled in and clinging to their claw. Hiccup shook his head. Although there weren't six as he had hoped, he still had to make sure the owls came somewhere safe. Or at least out of dragon reach.

Determined to do what was right, Hiccup set off and a new thrill of dangerous excitement rushed through his body, and not only was this going to be interesting, but the Misfit Viking was determined to prove himself worthy that he could deal with these dragons one way or another.

The scrawny Viking used his small size to weave between the warriors of Berk, each too occupied in their own desperate efforts to save their village to notice the young boy who was racing towards the shoreline. Hiccup's breaths came in deep gasps and he could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest, though the young Viking didn't know whether it was from fear or exhaustion.

Pushing himself harder than ever before, the boy's eyes were fixed on the four pale owls which stood out against the smoke tinged sky. Suddenly, in a flash of light, the young Viking swore he spotted the shape of the dreaded Night Fury. But he shook his head and continued forward.

Finally reaching the edge of the island, Hiccup cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Hey, over here!"

The owls wheeled towards the call just as a loud roar cut through the sky. Hiccup's eyes widened as he realised he attracted the dragons as well. With fear fuelling his actions, Hiccup started back towards the defences, leading the dragons away from the owls. The young boy scrabbled across the wooden walkways just as a Terrible Terror slammed into the ground behind him. Weaving and rolling wildly, The Misfit Viking continued to lead the dragons away from the owls and the precious letters of acceptation they carried. As he ran under one of the walkways, he heard a ferocious growl as a dragon became trapped within the frame. Breathless and exhausted, Hiccup risked a glance at the owls, just in time to see them land safely and hide inside the forge.

"Yes!" The small Viking cheered.

Blinded by his triumph, Hiccup didn't see the plasma blast until it hit the ground at his feet. The blue light seared into his eyes as chunks of dirt flew into the air. Hiccup's tiny frame was sent hurtling into a cart, the momentum flipping the wooden wagon upside-down and trapping the boy beneath it. As his consciousness faded, Hiccup had two thoughts: that the owls and their letters were safe, and that he was extremely lucky that the Night Fury had, for the first time, missed its target.

-:-

The sun was more than peeking over the horizon before the kids were ordered back to the village from the clearing within the woods. Of course, Hiccup wasn't with them, which would only make Stoick the Vast worried and angry, but the blame landed on Snotlout, since he had been given the responsibility to keep a keen eye on Hiccup after the Gronckle nearly had him.

"How could you just let him go? We had a deal!" His father yelled in his face, going around in circles and holding on to his horned helmet. How in the name of Thor was he going to explain this to his brother? His head would be cut off as soon as he informed the Chief that his son had let Hiccup run off.

"Well, it's not my fault!" Snotlout protested, his defence was that Hiccup had decided to save the owls. "He was so obsessed in getting them away from the dragons! If I had gone with him, I would have been dead, dad!"

Spitlout Jorgenson groaned and drew his hands away from his face. "Well, you better find him. Stoick is not going to be happy if he finds out he's missing."

"Who's missing?"

The Jorgensons spun around in shock to meet the chief, his expression cold and emotionless as he stared from Spitlout to Snotlout and then back at Spitlout. All around them were the other Vikings in full motion of rebuilding the destroyed houses of the village, their hammers slamming against wood and metal to keep the construction safe and sturdy. The repairs had to be carried out swiftly; on Berk every night could bring a new battle between Vikings and Dragons.

Spitlout and Snotlout quickly said "No one!" in unison trying to switch the topic, asking of how well the village took the attack. But Stoick's gaze went to the teenagers who were trying their best to help the adults and getting the small town back on its feet. Every single one of them were helping out the other and keeping their moods high, especially for the twins. But they were only causing more damage and more trouble, and ended up crashing through the roof of the forge. And to their surprise, they got caught in a fight with a four scared owls. The sight would have been humorous if it wasn't for the fact that Stoick began to worry for the Misfit Viking.

"Where's Hiccup?" Stoick suddenly asked confused when he did not spot his son.

"Uh, bah, Hiccup? Hiccup who?" Snotlout said nervously with a mixed laughter in his voice. His uncle narrowed his eyes at the eleven-year-old and it caused Snotlout to laugh again before gulping.

"Uh, listen, Stoick," Spitlout said causally, "I'm sure Hiccup's fine. Maybe he just went for a small walk."

"Where's my son?" Stoick approached the two immediately, his eyes filled with fury and he demanded an answer and now. "Where is he?!"

The sign of Snotlout trying to move away silently made the Chief reach his hand out and held the boy in the air. Snotlout, although he wouldn't admit it, was shaking in fright. "W-Well, hey uncle, I-I was just on my way t-to get him."

Suddenly, the three of them turned their attention to a chuckling Gobber who looked rather shocked, surprised and shook his head before pulling an unconscious boy out beneath a cart. Being held upside down was Hiccup, groaning as he slowly awoke from his slumber, muttering the words, 'owls', 'letters', and 'dragons' now and then.

"Found him!" Gobber said proudly before shaking the Misfit Viking rather harshly. "Now, come on, Hiccup, pull ye'self together!"

Hiccup yelped and shouted for the forger to let him go, his consciousness returning quickly but as soon as Gobber released him, Hiccup tumbled to the ground and quickly took to his head and groaned. Man, that was seriously the last time he was going to save a bunch of owls just to get an acceptation letter.

"Hiccup!" Stoick immediately let go of his nephew and hurried to the drowsy young Viking he called his son, gently helping him to his feet.

Hiccup looked surprised and squinted his eyes at the blurry imagine of his father.

"Oh, hey, dad," he said and smiled while rubbing his aching head. However, the angry expression left on his father's face made Hiccup flinch away immediately. "Uh, it's not what it looks like, dad. I-I didn't go for any dragons, I swear. I… I was just trying to get the owls away from them. Y-You know how Durmstrang is when it comes to losing your letter."

"You're the most reckless Viking I've ever seen!" Stoick boomed, shocking the nearby villagers and catching the attentions of the teenagers a few feet away. "Risking his life to save some stupid owls. You could have been killed!"

Was that… worry Hiccup could hear? No, it was probably just his imagination. But still, the thought that his father worried for his safety, even if was just for a few seconds, it seemed to make Hiccup smile. Which he ended up doing before shrugging. "Yeah, well, I could have. But I didn't, did I?"

Stoick groaned and looked his son in the eyes. There wasn't that much to say, his eyes were rather calm and smiling, something that seemed to rarely show within the Misfit Viking. Needless to say, he moved past his father and said that all was okay, he was okay, and that now he could get his letter of acceptation from Durmstrang and finally he would be able to really prove his worthy to his dad.

Only to realise that the owls had taken off, each of the nearly teens holding a letter in their hands and smiling like the happiest sun shines ever. Except for Astrid. She was, for once, being a bit hysterical, shouting and crying for an answer on why she hadn't gotten her letter yet. The sight was shocking, for everyone. Astrid wasn't this way at all, she was that tough and beautiful female Viking everybody was so sure would be a great fighter. And now she was on edge of crying.

She hurried to Hiccup filled with rage, while he tried to back away as quickly as possible. "You!" She growled. "You're the one who brought them, right? Where's the last owl? Where is my letter!?"

"Uh, I don't know," Hiccup said in defence and kept backing away; it ended with him bumping into his father. "T-There were only four owls, really!"

"Hey, look on the bright side, Astrid," Snotlout smirked and stood behind her with his letter, proudly waving it in front of Hiccup. "At least Hiccup isn't coming either, 'cause he's a squib!"

What he earned was nothing of what he had expected. Well, he had expected that Hiccup's expression would turn to misery and maybe the movement of his father patting him on the shoulders was a surprising action, but he had not expected Astrid to punch him right in the middle of his face, perhaps breaking his beautiful nose in the process. But it didn't help change the fact. Both Hiccup and Astrid weren't going anywhere, much to both's surprise and disappointment.

Hiccup turned to his dad, not wanting to meet the sad face he wore. His eyes, however, were calm.

All Hiccup did was apologising over and over, until his dad finally ruffled his auburn hair and assured him that everything would be all right. It wasn't his fault and wizard or not, Stoick still loved him no matter what. And that brought a smile to Hiccup's face. That was definitely the best thing he'd ever heard his dad say and, although Stoick was rather awkward and trying his best to remain as calm as possible, he couldn't help as a disappointed sigh escaped him.

Suddenly, all eyes were turned to the sky when the sound of an owl's cry echoed in the air. As a matter of fact, two dark owls came flying over the island from the east, diving when they saw the two children they'd been searching for.

Hiccup earned himself a push on his back and glanced behind him to watch his father motion him closer. Hiccup gulped. He was a disaster, why would this be his chance of becoming a Viking wizard? His only hope was that, just maybe, Durmstrang had sent him his letter a bit later than the others. But that was impossible, right? The Wizard School usually sent out their owls simultaneously and during night time at early daylight. It must have been at least 9 in the morning by now, but why would there then be owls now? They never showed themselves in daylight and Hiccup couldn't think of anything else than it was either a joke or a very late letter for him from Durmstrang.

The two owls each let go of the parchment in their claws, sending the envelopes straight into the arms of Hiccup, and surprisingly Astrid, too.

He glanced at her for a short second before looking down at the yellow paper.

'Weird,' he thought. 'I didn't think Durmstrang would use this fine kind of paper.'

When he turned it around, ignoring the shield imprinted on the back, he spotted the real owner to this letter. It said Astrid Hofferson and not Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

He sighed in defeat. "Hey, Astrid," he said and turned to the surprised girl, who also held a letter that didn't belong to her." I, uh…" He reached the letter out as she slowly came closer, "I found your letter."

"And I've found yours."

His eyes shot open. What did she just say? That she had his letter? No, that was impossible. He couldn't have gotten a letter from anybody, let alone Durmstrang. But from the looks of shook and excitement in Astrid's face, something told him that he hadn't gotten a letter from Durmstrang at all.

Each gave the other their respective letter, their hands just touching when they delivered. Hiccup blushed and gulped at the short amount of physical touch. Her hands were even softer than he had realised.

Seeing as she didn't take any time to examine the envelope, she ripped it open and began reading it. Her face lit up and she shouted in triumph before yelling something about…

"I'm going to Hogwarts!"

Hiccup's eyes widened at that statement.

'No, that can't be.'

Quickly ripping his own letter open, Hiccup read silently aloud to himself.

Dear Mr. Haddock,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He didn't reach further before he stopped in mid-sentence, his world seemed to come to a complete hold at the news. He read again, and again, and again, before…

He shouted a "Yes!" higher than anybody would have expected, and jumped with his arms high, repeating his relief over and over. He really wasn't a squib! He was a wizard after all! And he was going to the school mum went to, and dad would be so proud and—

"Dad!" He shouted before running up to Stoick who had been watching the whole scene unfold and couldn't believe his own ears when Astrid had shouted that she was going to the finest school in the whole world of magic. His only hope was that this was not a joke. "Dad, you won't believe it! I… I got into Hogwarts! Can you believe it?"

The words rang in Stoick's ears like music and all he could do was stare wide-eyed at his son as he bounced up and down, taking to his head and just breathing in relief and joy over the most unexpected.

"Dad, I get to go on Hogwarts! Like mum!" Hiccup repeated and eagerly handed his father the parchment. "Here, read!"

Well, it was now or never. If his son really was going to that school, then Stoick at least had to see the proof. His eyes went wider every time he read through it and in the end, all he could was smile before laughing joyfully and taking around his son and pulled him high up in the air.

"My son," he boomed so the whole village drew their attention to the cheering chief who now had his son on his shoulders. "Is going to Hogwarts!"

A big applause broke out and all Hiccup felt was acceptance. This was all he ever wanted; to be accepted and to make his father proud. And now he had done so. Now he just couldn't screw things up. He couldn't. If he did then dad would be disappointed again. Nevertheless, he enjoyed this moment of pride and cheers, and all Hiccup thought was that, now, he could prove that he wasn't such a Misfit Viking as everybody thought.

And as the celebration continued on, the old woman on top of the slim mountain moved steadily inside her cottage with a peaceful mind and satisfied soul.