Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or How to Train Your Dragon.

Author's Note: Please enjoy! Ask if you need me to explain any marching band lingo.

CHAPTER ONE:

BAND CAMP DAY ONE

It was only eight am in August and it was already sweltering hot outside. There was about an hour left until the start of two exhausting weeks of twelve hour days. Band camp meant making lifelong friendships, coming up with awesome inside jokes, and creating some of the greatest memories. But, band camp also meant heat stroke, dehydration, odd tan lines, and nonstop practicing of music and drill. Except for front ensemble; they get to stay indoors.

"I'm not lazy. I'm smart for choosing the section that stays indoors for band camp and doesn't march or do physical training. Isn't moving Toothless around exercise enough?" Hiccup said, referring to his sleek, black marimba.

"Hardly," Astrid, the drum major, responded, "pit gets off easy and you know it."

"We make up for it with ridiculous runs. Our music is literally insane."

"I'll give you that. Get ready, everyone else will be showing up in a few minutes." Astrid turned and left the band room. She's probably off yelling and commanding the rest of the section leaders, Hiccup thought.

Hiccup, a junior, had made front ensemble section leader this year which was a lot of work and responsibility, but also very rewarding. The catch was Jack Overland Frost, the senior battery section leader.

Jack was the extremely attractive center snare that always had a pair of sticks and a practice pad on him. If you heard color guard giggling while they were near the drumline, chances are that they were talking about Jack or shipping unfortunate, unsuspecting people.

But, there was also the fact that Jack tended to get on Hiccup's nerves. A lot.

Maybe it was the rim shots he always played in Hiccup's ear that caused him to go deaf for a minute. Maybe it was because Jack would always hide his music. Maybe it was that he would randomly turn the breaks on Toothless on and off. Or maybe it was the fact that Jack would wink at him while he was playing and then he would get off tempo.

Percussion as a whole was a pretty tight nit section. Everyone else thought all drumline and front ensemble did was hit things with sticks. Even though percussion was one of the closest groups, there was a little (okay, big) competition going on.

Battery vs. Front Ensemble

Jack Frost vs. Hiccup Haddock

It was the ongoing war of stealing each other's sticks and mallets. It wasn't the fact that Jack stole his mallets, everyone in percussion did that; it was the fact that he was so good at it. The score was already

Battery (Frost) – 10

Front Ensemble (Haddock) – 2

and band camp hasn't even started yet. It was kind of unnerving how Hiccup could turn around for just a moment and when he turned back to Toothless, his marimba, a pair of his mallets would be stolen. One point was given for every pair of mallets or drumsticks taken, so points could add up quick. Last year, Jack led the battery to victory with seven times as many points as the pit. But, this year Hiccup was leading, and he's planning on winning.

No one has ever been able to steal a pair of Jack Frost's drumsticks either. That's definitely going to change.

"BAND!" Astrid yelled out at the top of her lungs. Sandy, the other drum major and previous woodwinds captain, smiled next to her and waved.

"Okay, everyone outside for PT. If you're a freshman and you for some reason don't know what that is, it's physical training," Astrid looked dead in the eyes of the brass freshman. As a trumpet player and last year's trumpet section leader, she probably pushed the brass around a little bit more than she needed to. "Your section leaders will explain anything to you if you need it. Let's get started right away. This is going to be an awesome band camp! Dismiss!"

The rest of the band left the band room, leaving the pit to set up. For the next couple of hours they were practicing exercises, from scales to four mallet technique. Then, to show music.

Another thing about the pit; they always got their music way later than the rest of the band. So, they only had part one which had ridiculous four mallet parts for the front row of the pit.

"Hiccup, I think this has given me like four new blisters and it's not even lunch yet," Fishlegs, who played the marimba right of him, whined. No one really remembers how Frederick got the nickname Fishlegs. All that Hiccup recollects is that it happened during a bus ride back at about two am their freshman year.

"Go get blister tape. Lunch is in ten minutes, let's work on these rolls," Hiccup responded. The front ensemble instructor, Johann, was only there about half the time. He also didn't really seem to know anything about percussion either. But, he was always willing to 'trade' things with students.

If the pit ever had to ask about anything super important, then they had to track down the battery and talk to the drumline instructor, Nicholas St. North. And when someone leaved their mallet bag, they always risked getting their sticks stolen. Even if battery was across the school outside.

The clock hit twelve, signaling lunch.

"Hey, Hic!" Hiccup turned to see Jack walking towards him, sweating from drill practice and the heat outside. His white hair was sticking to his forehead and up in all directions. But, Jack's hair seemed to usually be sticking up.

"Could you please not call me that?" Hiccup asked with an exasperated look on his face.

"Ha, no way! Anyway, can't wait to hear what you guys sound like during percussion ensemble." Jack smiled and left with three ear piercing rim shots.

Hiccup turned back to Toothless to put the cover of his marimba back on. Two pairs of mallets were missing.

"FUUUUUUU-"

Battery (Frost) – 12

Front Ensemble (Haddock) – 2

The one hour of lunch from twelve to one was godsend. Hiccup made his way to the hallway right of the band room, dubbed the Percussion Cave. It was loud, insane, and not at all Hiccup's cup of tea, but it was basically home. It's not like his actual home was that great anyway.

Ruffnut (Rebecca) and Tuffnut (Thomas) were already sitting down at the end of the hallway arguing about something. The twins both gave themselves their nicknames when they were young and everyone just goes with it because it suits them. The Thorston twins could split anything on the bass drum. They could also split each other's faces open. The two enjoyed stealing mallets just as much as Jack, though they were much less subtle about it.

Snotlout (Seth) Jorgenson is highly arrogant and he thinks that he's the greatest tenor player to ever step on a field. But, percussion thinks he means well. Aster E. Bunnymund is a hell of a snare player. Just don't call him a kangaroo.

Dagur (that's actually his name) plays the rack in the front ensemble. He's also totally insane. Eret is a pretty shady vibe player but he's good at his instrument. The two are pretty great at taking drumsticks which is always a plus.

"Hic, what's up?" Jack asked, sitting across from Hiccup. He was carrying his lunch in one hand and sticks and a practice pad in the other. That's what makes it impossible to steal his drumsticks; he's always holding them.

"Just loving being indoors for band camp," Hiccup said, smirking.

"No need to rub it in," Jack responded, "I cannot wait until it gets cold."

"You like the cold?"

"You kidding me," Jack said, blue eyes sparkling, "winter is the greatest season ever. Who doesn't love snowball fights, hot chocolate, and snow days?"

"I'm more of an autumn person," Hiccup replied.

"Why? 'Cause it's band season?"

"Among other reason," Hiccup said, smiling. Jack quickly ate his food and then proceeded to start practicing. Flam taps and paradiddles resonated through the hallway.

"I'm going to go practice," Hiccup stated while getting up to throw away his trash. As he was about to walk back into the band room he heard Snotlout yell.

"Are you both crazy? Why the hell do you practice during your break?! IT'S YOUR BREAK!"

Jack threw his practice pad at him. If Snotlout's sticks were missing from where he hid them in the Percussion Room, it totally wasn't Hiccup.

Battery (Frost) – 12

Front Ensemble (Haddock) – 3

Percussion ensemble didn't go as horribly as it could have. Sure, the tenor was way too slow, Dagur decided that random rack solos were a good idea, and some parts sounded unclear. It's only the first day of band camp; there's still two whole weeks to improve.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of notes. Finally, the clock hit nine and all of the exhausted band kids could go home.

Hiccup got into his dad's car waiting outside for him; an awkward silence immediately filled the air.

"So, Hiccup," his dad, Stoick, started, "Why band?"

"Dad…"

"Why not a sport or something?" Stoick questioned.

"Can we please not talk about this now?" Hiccup pleaded. Stoick sighed and nodded. Back to the awkward silence, Hiccup thought.

The car slowly made its way into the driveway and the two got out, Hiccup immediately rushing into his room. He was tired enough that he drifted off to sleep almost right after getting into bed.