It was just a normal, ordinary day on Berk when Hiccup found "The Book".
Dragons were causing a few fiascos here and there, but it was okay all together. In fact, Hiccup was so excited that he didn't care about that. Trader Johann was coming for another visit, and Hiccup was always eager for the exotic and unusual goods that he had. But for some reason, Trader Johann seemed more excited to meet Hiccup instead!

"Greetings, Master Hiccup! I have been dying to meet you!"

This confused Hiccup dearly, since it hadn't been that long since they had last seen each other. The trader was clutching an old, tattered red book in his hands. Hiccup could just see a simple drawing of a dragon on the cover. That caught his attention.

"Hello, Johann! What's that in your hands?" Hiccup asked, it must have been something important if Johann was so eager to give it to him. Johann grinned widely.

"I found this just a few days ago, in a abandoned house not far from Berk. I was quite surprised, I had thought that island was abandoned! Anyway, I dusted the cobwebs off the book, and here's what I found…!"

He handed the book over to Hiccup. Hiccup looked at the cover in curiousity, and his eyes grew wide. One the cover of the book, right on top of the dragon drawing, read: How To Train Your Dragon. Now that was interesting. Hiccup had thought he had been the first Viking that had trained dragons. It seemed someone else had before him. Then his eyes lowered to see the author's name. His jaw dropped. He stared at the messy Norse runes enscribed on the cover, blinking furiously to see if he was seeing things. But no. The handwriting was very messy, but bold enough for Hiccup to read…

"By Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III." He breathed, almost a whisper. Johann smiled.

"You wrote this book, lad! I'm surprised you didn't recognize it right away. Did you write it when you were little? Hmm, that doesn't make sense, Berk was still fighting with dragons that time…."

"I didn't write this book." Hiccup cut off Johann's wonders, trembling a bit in shock.
"It…. Must have been someone else with the same name. I've never seen this book before."

Johann frowned. "That is surprising, Master Hiccup. I thought you had written it, being such a good dragon trainer and all. I wonder how you ended up with having someone the same name as yours, Master Hiccup. It's not really that common."

Hiccup nodded, absentmindedly stroking the cover with his fingers. Hiccup longed to read it. The author had the same name as his, and the book was about dragons. Johann smiled knowingly.

"I knew you would want it! You can have it for free. A Thank You gift for saving me so much in the past."

Hiccup looked up, his eyes wide.

"Thanks Johann! I really appreciate it." He clutched the book in his arms.

"Aye, lad. I have the feeling it's falling in good hands. Take good care of it."

Hiccup promised he would. He thanked Johann once more, and immediately ran to his home to read it. He crashed into Astrid in the way. The book fell from his hands with a thud.

"Oof! Sorry Astrid!" Hiccup yelped, helping her up. But Astrid's gaze was on the book. She picked it up, her eyebrows furrowing as she read the cover.

"Since when did you write books? Is this like the Book of Dragons?" She asked quizzically. Hiccup shrugged.

"Dunno. Trader Johann found it in some abandoned island. I got curious and brought it back."

Astrid nodded and opened the first few pages. Hiccup tried to protest but at the same time, he was wondering what it was about too. He peered along with Astrid to see the pages.

Long ago, on the wild and windy isle of Berk, a smallish Viking with a longish name stood up to his ankles in snow.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of the Hairy Hooligans, had been feeling slightly sick ever since he woke up that morning.

"Huh, this IS about you!" Astrid exclaimed. "Look, you're the heir in this book too! Are you sure you didn't write this?"

Hiccup read off the lines in surprise. "Whoever it was, they knew me quite well."

Ten boys, including Hiccup, were hoping to become full members of the Tribe by passing the Dragon Initiation Program. They were standing on a bleak little beach at the bleakest spot on the whole bleak island. A heavy snow was falling.

"PAY ATTENTION!" screamed Gobber the Belch, the soldier in charge of teaching Initiation. "This will be your first military operation, and Hiccup will be commanding the team."

"Oh, not Hic-cup," groaned Dogsbreath the Duhbrain and most of the other boys. "You can't put': Hiccup in charge, sir, he's USELESS."

Hiccup winced at that line. He had been called Useless a few times in the past, and it didn't feel that good. It seemed like Gobber was in the book too. Hiccup would have had expected that. But what was the 'Dragon Initiation Program'? And who was Dogsbreath the Duhbrain?

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of the Hairy Hooligans, wiped his nose miserably on his sleeve. He sank a little deeper into the snow.

"ANYBODY would be better than Hiccup," sneered Snotface Snotlout. "Even Fishlegs would be better than Hiccup."

Fishlegs had a squint that made him as blind as a jellyfish, and an allergy to reptiles.

"Snotlout is annoying in this book too, that's for sure. But since when did FISHLEGS get allergic to reptiles?" Astrid muttered. This book needed a lot of edits. But she kept reading anyway.

"SILENCE!" roared Gobber the Belch. "The next boy to speak has limpets for lunch for the next

THREE WEEKS!"

There was absolute silence immediately. Limpets are a bit like worms and a bit like snot and a lot less tasty than either.

"Hiccup will be in charge and that is an order!" screamed Gobber, who didn't do noises quieter than screaming. He was a seven-foot giant with a mad glint in his one working eye and a beard like exploding fireworks. Despite the freezing cold he was wearing hairy shorts and a teeny weeny deerskin vest that showed off his lobster-red skin and bulging muscles. He was holding a flaming torch in one gigantic fist.

"Hiccup will be leading you, although he is, admittedly, completely useless, because Hiccup is the son of the CHIEF, and that's the way things go with us Vikings. Where do you think you are, the REPUBLIC OF ROME? Anyway, that is the least of your problems today. You are here to prove yourself as a Viking Hero. And it is an ancient tradition of the Hooligan Tribe that you should -" Gobber paused dramatically -

"FIRST CATCH YOUR DRAGON!"

"What's the Republic of Ro- Wait. Catch a dragon? Since when did we catch dragons?" Hiccup looked baffled. This was surely the weirdest book he had ever seen. It was a tale of Hiccup, but not.

Ohhhhhh suffering scallops, thought Hiccup.

"Our dragons are what set us apart!" bellowed Gobber. "Lesser humans train hawks to hunt for them, horses to carry them. It is only the VIKING HEROES who dare to tame the wildest, most dangerous creatures on Earth."

Gobber spat solemnly into the snow. "There are three parts to the Dragon Initiation Test. The first and most dangerous part is a test of your courage and skill at burglary. If you wish to enter the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, you must first catch your dragon. And that is WHY," continued Gobber, at full volume, "I have brought you to this scenic spot. Take a look at Wild Dragon Cliff itself."

Wild Dragon Cliff seemed to be like Dragon Island, Hiccup commented.

The ten boys tipped their heads backward. The cliff loomed dizzyingly high above them, black and sinister. In summer you could barely even see the cliff as dragons of all shapes and sizes swarmed over it, snapping and biting and sending up a cacophony of noise that could be heard all over Berk.

But in winter the dragons were hibernating and the cliff fell silent, except for the ominous, low rumble of their snores. Hiccup could feel the vibrations through his sandals.

"Now," said Gobber, "do you notice those four caves about halfway up the cliff, grouped roughly in the shape of a skull?" The boys nodded. "Inside the cave that would be the right eye of the skull is the Dragon Nursery, where there are, AT THIS VERY MOMENT, three thousand young dragons having their last few weeks of winter sleep."

"OOOOOOOH," muttered the boys excitedly.

Hiccup swallowed hard. He happened to know considerably more about dragons than anybody else there. Ever since he was a small boy, he'd been fascinated by the creatures. He'd spent hour after long hour dragon watching in secret. (Dragon-spotters were thought to be geeks and nerds, hence the need for secrecy.) And what Hiccup had learned about dragons told him that walking into a cave with three thousand dragons in it was an act of madness.

"Um, I wasn't like that when I was little. Scared of them, yes. Interested? Maybe a bit. Spying on them? Dad would have killed me before then."
"Shut up, Geek."
"Hey! That's not-"
Hiccup shut up after a kick in the shin.

No one else seemed too concerned, however.

"In a few minutes I want you to take one of these baskets and start climbing the cliff," commanded Gobber the Belch. "Once you are at the cave entrance, you are on your own. I am too large to squeeze my way into the tunnels that lead to the Dragon Nursery. You will enter the cave QUIETLY- and that means you too, Wartihog, unless you want to become the first spring meal for three thousand hungry dragons, HA HA HA HA!"

Gobber laughed heartily at his little joke, then continued. "Dragons this size are normally fairly harmless to man, but in these numbers they will set upon you like piranhas. There'd be nothing left of even a fatso like you, Wartihog - just a pile of bones and your helmet. HA HA HA HA! So . . . you will walk QUIETLY through the cave and each boy will steal ONE sleeping dragon. Lift the dragon GENTLY from the rock and place it in your basket. Any questions so far?"

Nobody had any questions.

"In the unlikely event that you DO wake the dragons - and you would have to be IDIOTICALLY STUPID to do so - run like thunder for the entrance to the cave. Dragons do not like cold weather and the snow will probably stop them in their tracks."

Probably? Thought Hiccup. Oh, well, that's reassuring.

"I suggest that you spend a little time choosing your dragon. It is important to get one the correct size. This will be the dragon that hunts fish for you, and pulls down deer for you. You will catch the dragon that will carry you into battle later on, when you are much older and a Warrior of the Tribe. But, nonetheless, you want an impressive animal, so a rough guide would be, choose the biggest creature that will fit into your basket. Don't linger for TOO long in there -"

Linger? Thought Hiccup. In a cave full of three thousand sleeping DRAGONS?

"I like this kid." Hiccup grinned. "Same dry humor." Then he remembered the kid was him. Probably.

"I need not tell you," Gobber continued cheerfully, "that if you return to this spot without a dragon, it is hardly worth coming back at all. Anybody who FAILS this task will be put into immediate exile. The Hairy Hooligan Tribe has no use for FAILURES. Only the strong can belong."

Hiccup grimaced again. That line reminded him of his father's harsh words in the past. The book Hiccup didn't seem to like it either.

Unhappily, Hiccup looked round at the distant horizon. Nothing but snow and sea as far as the eye could see. Exile didn't look too promising, either.

"RIGHT," said Gobber briskly. "Each boy take a basket to put their dragon in and we'll get going." The boys rushed to get their baskets, chattering happily and excitedly.

"I'm going to get one of those Monstrous Nightmare ones with the extra-extendable claws. They're really scary," boasted Snotlout.

"Oh shut up, Snotlout, you can't," said Speedi-fist. "Only Hiccup can have a Monstrous Nightmare, you have to be the son of a chief." Hiccup's father was Stoick the Vast, the fearsome chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe.

"I'll have the Night Fury, thank you very much." Hiccup muttered. He wondered if Toothless would come out in this story.

"HIC-CUP?" sneered Snotlout. "If he's as useless at this as he is at Bashyball, we'll be lucky if he even gets one of the Basic Browns."

The Basic Brown was the most common type of dragon, a serviceable beast but without much glamour. (Description about the Basic Brown beneath.)

"Basic Brown and Common or Garden? Isn't that the Terrible Terror?" Astrid asked.
Hiccup read the discriptions carefully.
"Not really. These dragons seem like they don't have any poison."
This book was kind of like the Book of Dragons. But Hiccup had never heard about a 'Basic Brown' or a 'Common or Garden' dragon before.

"SHUDDUP AND GET INTO LINE YOU MISERABLE TADPOLES!" yelled Gobber the Belch.

The boys scrambled into their places, baskets on their backs, and stood to attention. Gobber walked along the line, lighting the torch that each boy held in front of him from the great flare in his hand.

"IN HALF AN HOUR'S TIME YOU WILL BE A VIKING WARRIOR. WITH YOUR FAITHFUL SERPENT AT YOUR SIDE ... OR BREAKFASTING WITH WODEN IN VALHALLA WITH DRAGONS' TEETH IN YOUR BOTTOM!" screamed Gobber with horrible enthusiasm.

"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled Gobber.

"DEATH OR GLORY!" yelled eight boys back at him fanatically.

Death, thought Hiccup and Fishlegs, sadly. Gobber paused dramatically, with the horn to his lips.

I think this could possibly be the worst moment of my life SO FAR, thought Hiccup to himself as he waited for the blast of the horn. And if they shout much louder, we're going to wake up those dragons before we even START.

"To true." Hiccup agreed to his book self. He knew something would go wrong. He felt it.

"PARRRRRRRRRP!" Gobber blew the horn.

"PARRRRRRRRP!"

The two teenagers lifted their heads in surprise at the loud noise of a horn.
They immediately stared at the book. No way.
"Huh. What a coincidence." Hiccup was about to brush it off and keep reading, when a gust of wind blew around them. The book fell out of Astrid's hands and fell to ground with a thud, it's pages fluttering as the wind skimmed the pages. The wind blew harder. Hiccup had NEVER felt such strong wind before.

"Astrid, What the-!"

The dust and debris was blowing around them so thickly Hiccup could hardly see what was happening to the village, or Astrid's shape. The whole world seemed to be spinning around below their feet. Hiccup suddenly felt lightheaded. He let out a small groan and collapsed to the ground. The last thing he saw was the pages of the book flying about in frenzy, and the roaring of wind in his ears. He blacked out.

A/N: I got the whole book series for Christmas(Well, not the WHOLE book series, since book 12 isn't out yet), and I wanted to write something about them.
Both HTTYDs do NOT belong to me. Books are owned by Cressida Cowell, Movies are owned by Dreamworks.