Author's Note: This story was written for the Christmas holiday. This first chapter is a bit short, but I promise the others will be much longer. I will try to update each day.

Disclaimer: As much as I would like to claim credit, I do not own the rights to How to Train your Dragon, which includes any of its characters. They belong to DreamWorks. The only parts of this story that is rightfully mine are plot ideas and characters I invent.

*Thanks to the many readers who pointed out in reviews and PM's that Hiccup has green eyes instead of blue.*

A Snoggletog Miracle

Chapter One

Toothless jumped on the roof of his best friend's house, just as he did every morning. He heard the front door, but instead of seeing Hiccup, he saw Stoick.

The Chief's eyes were red with exhaustion as he looked up at the dragon. "Toothless, you can't do that today. Hiccup won't be out. He's very ill."

"Stoick," Gobber greeted as he approached. "What's this I hear about the boy being ill?"

Stoick nodded. "He took ill during the night. He's burning up and has a terrible cough. I've been sitting up with him most of the night and into the wee hours of the morning."

"Maybe you should call the healer?" Gobber suggested.

"It could be nothing, Gobber."

"Aye and it could be something serious too," the blacksmith pointed out. "Why take the chance, Stoick?"

Stoick thought about this and realized that the man had a point. He didn't know what was ailing Hiccup or how serious it was. "Alright, I'll go get her."

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON

Hiccup was pale. His green eyes were foggy and had no light to them. He coughed continuously, holding his aching stomach as he did.

"Easy, son," Stoick said soothingly as he sat by his son's side while the healer examined him.

"Well what's wrong with him?" He asked the woman.

"His body is being attacked by an illness unknown to me," the woman replied. "Death is knocking at his door. It's up to Hiccup whether to answer that door or not."

Stoick stared at the woman for a long moment. "You mean he's dying?" he asked, just above a whisper.

"That could happen. Only Hiccup can decide whether to fight this illness or not," the healer answered. She looked down at the frail boy. "Right now, he's not doing much fighting."

Stoick grasped his son's cold hand and his eyes pleaded with the woman before him. "Is there nothing you can give him to help him get well?"

"I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do for him," the healer replied somberly. Standing up, she left the chief alone with his ill son. She wished she could do more for the boy. But there wasn't. The only one who could help Hiccup was a much higher power.

Stoick gazed down at his son and squeezed his hand. "Hiccup, you need to fight this, son. Please, you can't give up."