It wasn't as if he didn't know the way to the Principal's Office: he had been enough times during the previous years to know the way but there were plenty of good reasons to delay. So instead, he went to the bathroom and stared at his reflection for a long time while he calmed his breathing and tried to process who he reacted: the pale face with fading freckles, forest green eyes and tousled auburn hair stared warily back. It was the face of a loser, of a nobody. He splashed water onto his skin and then sighed. He couldn't put it off longer.

Marsha, the secretary, looked up as he walked in and cocked a well-pencilled eyebrow, her plump face moving into a weary expression.

"Starting a little early, aren't we?" she asked. "Not even lunchtime on the first day. A new record, Mr Haddock." Hiccup nodded and sat silently as far from the door to the office as he could manage, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

"I like to challenge myself," he replied sarcastically, keeping his voice low.

"He's in-and I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to see you," she riposted. He nodded absently, his eyes staring at the floor. She lifted the phone and murmured a few words-and then she looked up. "He'll see you now. Go on in!"

With great reluctance, Hiccup levered himself to his feet and grabbed his bag, then knocked quietly at the door and heard the rough voice invite him in. He squared his shoulders and walked in, quietly heading for the desk. The huge shape of Mr Treacher glared at him and he stopped by the chair. The Principal was a huge man, his jet hair, huge bushy beard and eyebrows all jet black, his eyes dark and face cold and stern. His face twisted into scowl at the sight of the boy in front of him.

"What are yer doing 'ere, 'Iccup?" he growled. The boy flicked up his rebellious green gaze.

"Had a disagreement with my Math teacher," he admitted. The huge man scowled. "Sir."

"Yer need ter learn yer manners," Mr Treacher told him gruffly. "Mr Mildew 'as messaged me: yer were not paying attention in class: yer refused ter 'and over a book yer were drawing in and yer struck 'im." His voice was angry.

"It's my Art notebook. He was going to take it from me." The words were angry and defensive. The Principal rose abruptly, walking menacingly towards the lean shape facing him, slump-shouldered and defensive. He extended his hand.

"Give it ter me, boy!" he ordered. Green eyes flicking up briefly, Hiccup fished the book out of his bag and, after a long moment, he handed it over. The Principal looked at it for a long moment, knowing the book would be part of the boy's coursework for his Art classes that year-then he deliberately ripped it in half. He walked back to his desk, dumping the wreckage in the bin. "SIT!" he commanded. Hiccup stared at him, a betrayed look in his eyes, then perched on the edge of the seat, his eyes inspecting the carpet. "Nothin' ter say for yourself?" Mr Treacher sneered.

"I don't regret it," Hiccup said coldly.

"Yer will," Mr Treacher promised. "I should suspend yer...but it's only the first day and I suppose I could put it down ter youthful 'igh spirits..."

"Whatever," Hiccup shot back dismissively. The Principal's eyebrows dipped in a furious scowl.

"Detention every day for two weeks," he growled. "That should calm yer down and teach yer ter think before yer act!" The green eyes flicked up again: rebellious and verging on hatred. "Remember yer place, boy. Sooner yer do that, the sooner yer will avoid any more unpleasantness!" He glared at the boy again. "GET OUT! Go and apologise to Mr Mildew and report fer detention tonight!"

Hiccup trudged out without sparing another word or look at the Principal, merely tightening his grip on his bag and slamming the door behind him.

oOo

Astrid was astonished to see Hiccup in lunch, fist-bumping with Dagur and Thuggory and shouting a challenge to Snotlout about the fight they had challenged the Jocks to. She and her friends were frankly astonished that Hiccup wasn't suspended. He had struck a teacher after all and though she had heard that he had apologised to Mr Mildew and had detention and a ton of extra homework-courtesy of the Math teacher, she couldn't imagine that he wasn't anything other than getting away lightly.

The Bad Boys didn't seem to have learned their lesson and food was flying across the canteen. Hiccup was laughing joking with his friends and causing a ruckus. The Jocks were joining in the food fight and the girls moved further away to avoid any accidental hits.

"How did he get away with it?" Cami asked, her blue eyes wide with shock.

"I heard from Marsha he cheeked Mr Treacher as well," Raquel (or Ruffnut) said. Ruff was Astrid's oldest friend, right from Elementary school and her twin, Toby (or Tuffnut) was on the Team with Snotlout, Franklin (a husky boy with apparently short legs who was referred to as 'Fishlegs') and Erik 'Eret' Eretson.

"How can they allow him to flout the rules? He's supposed to be a senior!" Heather said scornfully.

"Never a teacher around when you need one," Cami grumbled, ducking a volley of jelly beans.

"Maybe he just doesn't care," Ruff added. "I heard..."

"He'll never amount to anything...so keep your focus, girls," Astrid advised them, finishing her drink. "Forget Hiccup Haddock. We need good grades and Cheerleading Squad trials are tomorrow after school. This is our year to rule the school-and we should take full advantage of it! After all, he'll be waiting tables while we're in college."

"Did I hear my name?" a teasing voice said and Hiccup leaned on the edge of the table. His face was mocking. "Swooning over my raw vikingness?" Astrid's eyes flashed in fury.

"Never in a million years!" she spat.

"So you prefer Snottykins?" he taunted her. "Big, dumb and slow?"

"At least he works!" she retorted.

"At sport!" he shot back. "Running up and down catching a ball...is what you do if you're a dog! Big deal!" Her azure eyes flashed and she glared at him. Berk High's reputation was based on the success of the Berk Vikings, their Championship-winning team. The fact they won the State Championship more often than not was a great source of pride to everyone in Berk-especially the Cheerleading Team and their Captain.

"So what do you work at?" she sneered. "Art? Sarcastic comments? Floor cleaning?" He stared at her, breathing hard. "I thought so! I wouldn't waste my time on a worthless boy like you!"

His eyes flashed and he leaned close. "Worthless?" he breathed. "I'll show you worthless, Miss Perfect! You'll see..." And then he flipped her plate, splattering the girls with the few crumbs remaining. She glared after him as he stormed away, her eyes filled with contempt.

"Pretty harsh, Ast," Heather commented cautiously. "I mean, he wasn't doing anything..."

"He never does anything," Astrid retorted. "He just disrupts class, makes fun of anyone worthwhile and thinks so much of himself. But he's not worth a hundredth of any of you!" Cami frowned.

"You know...he looked pretty hurt when you called him worthless," she commented.

"I speak as I find," Astrid replied forthrightly. "And that boy is worthless...until he proves otherwise!"

oOo

Hiccup walked home after detention. He had done much of his homework and when he was released, he had of course missed the buses. So he had the walk across town. Berk wasn't large but it was certainly larger than a village and it took him the best part of an hour to reach home: a small house backing the river in an unfashionable part of town. The garden was neat and ordered, the drive swept and a neat Toyota car was parked on the gravel. He trudged up to the front door and let himself in, dumping his backpack by the stairs and walking into the small kitchen.

His mother looked up, her forest green eyes the mirror of his. Her tired face smiled, more lines than there should have been clustered under her eyes. A few strands of her grey-streaked faded auburn hair had escaped from her braid as she worked, stirring the pans and cutting bread for the evening meal. "Problems at school?" she asked, her voice sounding tired.

"Nothing I can't handle," he said gently, walking up to her and kissing her gently. "Can I help?" She wrapped her arms around her son, shaking her head.

"It's almost done," she reassured him, still enjoying the hug.

"You work too hard," he reminded her. "Remember what the doctor said..."

"You're late back today," she said, sticking to her point and ignoring his.

"Detention," he admitted. "Nothing."

"Darling, I do wish you'd try," she sighed, her face looking disappointed. "You used to work so hard when your father..." He stiffened and pulled away, his face falling into the withdrawn look she had come to know and hate.

"Dad's gone," he breathed. "A lot of things went with him." She walked up to lightly lay her hands on his shoulders.

"We have to deal with what is," she reminded him. "We have had to move on, my love, and we..."

"I smell burning!" a voice growled and she looked up at the voice of her husband. "I don't pay to put good food on the table to have my lazy cow of a wife burning it!" She stiffened and Hiccup looked up, standing defensively between her and the door.

"I-I'm sorry, Alvin," she murmured and turned back to the pans immediately. Her husband stomped angrily into the kitchen, a beer clamped in his hand and Hiccup backed up a pace, breathing hard.

"How was detention?" said Mr Treacher.