The sun was sinking over the island of Berk, a red-pink glow illuminating the peak of the mountain's white cap. The inhabitants were sleeping soundly, most of their worries of the day slowly fading away as the golden trails weaved through windows and into houses. Seen only by children and those few magic folk who wandered the island, each queerer than the next. One man, however, did not sleep. He plodded heavily through town, wrapped tightly in thick layers of coat against the cold breeze that was summer for Berk.

Up to the sturdy front door of the Haddock Household, and also the chieftain's place of residence. Home to only two, three, if you count the birds sat idly in the rafters. Tat-tat-tat, the noise echoed throughout the home, and the hinges squeaked violently on the door.

"Hello?" called the man in a scratchy voice, "Is anybody home?" he was about to raise his hand to knock again when the door flew open with such a force a few teeth could've been knocked out. Luckily for this man he stepped back just before, though he landed with a suspiciously heavy clunk.

"Who in the name of Thor do you think you are!?" bellowed the immense man at the door, standing dressed in only his nightwear and humorous slippers, his hair slightly array. "Knocking at this hour!" The man – Stoick – was about to continue the avalanche of complaints that spilled from his mouth, when the small man barged straight through him and headed up the creaky stairs with many a Thud.

The hallway was lined with ancient axes, swords, shields and all matter of Viking relics. As if their physical builds and mannerisms didn't already point to their heritage. The meagre man raised an eyebrow at a leather bound book with worn and fraying edges, the title so spent that the words had mingled together, or vanished into the depths of time.

"The book of Dragons," a small, tired voice wafted down from a doorway, in which stood a young boy with auburn hair "it's our oldest relic." He explained, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The man stared at him in blind shock, his body frozen as if he was in ice. Suddenly, he burst out in a scratchy laugh his black goggles shining in the light.

"A strange man wearing bizarre headgear walks into your house in the night, and your first move is explain the most valued object in your home?" he chuckled to himself a little, calming himself as the boy stared on.

"It's how we challenge intruders," He explained, "if you think you can take it, be my guest" gesturing to the book, scarily calm and collected, with an open hand. Goggles looked at him once more, and burst out laughing yet again.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye, "That book is cursed, if I touch it I will come down with a mysterious illness!" both Haddocks seemed taken aback, and Stoick gestured for his son to move away. "All's fine, all's fine" waved the man, "the name's Nefario," he said proudly, "Dr Nefario, teacher of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts school for witch craft and wizardry!"

"Ah!" exclaimed Stoick, "thought you were odd!" He turned his head towards Hiccup "he'll be here for you then." With that Stoick turned and plodded back to his bedroom, probably to catch up on the sleep he had been rudely interrupted from.

"So…" started the scrawny boy, bouncing on the soles of his feet. Seemingly stumped for words, he sheepishly smiled at Nefario and pointed to his room, swinging his arms.

"Your name's Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third" said Nefario, settling himself into a stool in Hiccup's bedroom.

"Yes, that's right" answered Hiccup, sitting uncertainly on his own bed, fidgeting nervously with the duvet corner.

"Hiccup," he started pulling out a thick envelope with curly blue ink signed on the yellowing parchment, "I'm obligated to announce that you have been accepted into the great school of Hogwarts." He handed the envelope to Hiccup, who looked him dead in the eye while cautiously opening the letter. "Congratulations on receiving the first letter delivered via the amazing Nefarery!" he announced looking blankly at Hiccup, who returned the look with confusion in his eyes.

"That's what I named it," Nefario confirmed, "Nefarery, my delivery service."

Not long after the acclaimed 'Nefarery' incident, a cluster of Berk preteens and only two adult supervisors wandered down the busy street of Ioma in Oslo, Norway. Wizards and Witches crowded the wide street, their animals hooting, screeching, chittering and whining for miles.

"There we are!" called Gobber, "Ursula's wands for the talented!" the shop was, to say the least, unique, the front looked like it was pulled from under the sea and wedged into the wizarding society, the windows were small aquariums filled with aquatic life. Though hardly anybody stood inside, a large woman with an excessive amount of make-up sat behind the counter, snoring loudly.

"Hello!" hollered Gobber slamming the front door open and striding in, jerking the woman out of her sleep. "Four of your finest wands!" he boasted, Gothi trailing exasperatedly behind him. The woman – presumably Ursula – rested her chin on her hand and smiled a wide smile.

"That's all well and good, but do you have the money for it?" she asked slyly, "I'm not cheap, and I don't make any deals." She twisted herself around the counter a long black dress swaying as if moving on its own accord.

"Ha!" laughed Gobber, "This is the son of a Chief we've got here!" Gothi rolled her eyes as Gobber patted Hiccup on the back so hard he almost fell over, "He'll pay just fine!" Ursula's face lit up with a filthy greed, and her smile softened.

"Very well then, let us begin which one take's your fancy young sir's and miss's" she swept a long purple curtain away, revealing a glass cabinet filled with glittering wands and other magical conductors such as canes and the like. "These are my finest collection!"

The twins immediately ran for the meanest looking wands, one went for a black wand covered in dull thorns, the other snatched a metallic wand carved like a two-handed sword. Astrid studied the wands a little further before picking out one with a red hue and flames carved into the handle.

Hiccup on the other hand had been intrigued by a small rusty box sat on the counter gathering dust, a rusty silver key placed in the matching keyhole. Marvelling at the craftsmanship, Hiccup turned the key and the lid sprung open, almost immediately a silvery glow emitted from the box and filled the room.

Gothi smiled and clapped her hands together, hobbling over to the box she lifted out a short, pale but elegant wand. She handed it to Hiccup who flung it around as he were still in the blacksmith's, to which the wand encircled him with a warm breeze unlike those on Berk.

"That's a vine wood," said Ursula, "its quality is far lower than these, it's short and old!" she exclaimed, frantically trying to up her profit.

"No thank you" said Hiccup, "I'll take this one – what is it made of?" he asked curiously studying the wand and the box. Ursula sighed, but kept up appearances.

"Vine wood, containing a unicorn hair 10 inches and three quarters, hard flexibility" she worked her way back behind the counter and began writing up the orders.

I apologise for the shaky character personalities, I'm only used to writing the big four themselves.
A big thank you to all who have stuck by this story through the weeks, and I shall be writing more – I now have houses and wands sorted and written up a plot.
Also THANK YOU BACONLOVER101 FOR REVIEWING, yes I shall continue and thanks for the support (great name by the way.)

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Panic! At the Disco
Hollywood Undead
Fallout Boy

(:.:) cookie for those who are in the fan base already.