Hard Knocks

A/N: My new HTTYD story! Inspired by the new movie coming out at Christmas, 'Annie'. I seriously considered waiting until the movie came out to even write the first chapter, but my friend encouraged me to write this because (her words exactly) "Your version will be so much angstier!" I suspect I've earned a name for myself xD

ALSO LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I AM PULLING THINGS OUT OF MY REAR ABOUT POLITICS.

Stoick couldn't remember a time when it had been too cold for snow. He had grown up in the small town of Berk, Ohio, and it seemed to snow nine months of the year there, and hail the other three. The harsh weather wasn't a drawback to him; half the time, the snow and ice reflected his mood. But today, there was nothing but the pure, reflective white ice everywhere he looked, covering cars and coating the sides of buildings. Streets were frosted over and cars kept going skidding on the roads.

Stoick's Thunderdrum was in the shop after a particularly nasty scratch from the day before, when the ice had been even slicker, and he had gone skidding. How he had walked away with not a scratch was still heavily debated, but he himself had chalked it up to his genes, which had granted him an abnormally strong body. He could have borrowed his friend Gobber's car, but walking might have done him some good; he didn't want to get into another accident so soon after the first, or the people of Berk might start thinking he was careless with his own safety.

And they couldn't start thinking that, because he still had an election to win. He closed his eyes as he thought of it, the thing that had been plaguing his mind for the past week or so. He had always wanted to give something back to the town he had grown up in, even though it didn't always hold perfectly happy memories for him. It still held memories of his parents' funeral, and one of his best friends moving away only a few weeks after. That had been the hardest year of his life, but he had gotten through it. Muscled through it, really, just the way he always had. He didn't like needing help, so he had vowed to himself that he never would need it again, not after what had happened to his mother and father.

He tried to turn his mind back to the election, to rid himself of his emotions, the way he had tried so hard to do all his life, when the screech of tires made him glance up just before, to his horror, he saw it was not careless driving or icy roads that had made the driver slam on the brakes. There was a boy running out into the road, surely no more than twelve or thirteen, staring in horror at the windshield as the car drew nearer and nearer, unable to stop. He threw himself forward, but his sprint wasn't enough to bring him fully out of the way; his legs were still half in the road, and he had grabbed at the front of Stoick's jeans to stop himself from falling completely.

Stoick had mere seconds in which to act, and he did the only thing he knew to do; he grabbed the boy out of the road, depositing him safely on the sidewalk and keeping an arm locked around him, in case he decided to try and cheat death again. The car went spinning harmlessly onward, and the driver regained control fairly quickly. Stoick looked down at the boy in his arms, studying the small face.

He had bright, emerald green eyes, flyaway auburn hair that stuck up everywhere, more freckles than Stoick could even count, and, to the man's surprise, he was not dressed suitably for the cold weather. He had on a green T-shirt and a thin brown jacket that barely kept out the cold, it was clear by the way the boy shuddered with cold.

"Why did you run out into the road?" Stoick demanded of him, a bit harsher than he ought to have, because he was still a bit shaky from the sudden adrenaline rush. "Why are you running?"

The boy did not appear perturbed by the fact that he had just narrowly escaped death or severe injury. He broke out into a broad grin, his green eyes beginning to sparkle. "Gets me places quicker."

And then he dashed back out into the road once more, streaking off down the opposite sidewalk, bumping into a ton of people as he went.

Stoick rolled his eyes as he watched the boy run. "Crazy kids," he muttered to himself. The auburn-haired boy disappeared into the crowd of people, and the mayor hopeful allowed himself to shrug it off before continuing on his way.

Stoick had just recently bought himself a new cell phone, as his old one had died rather suddenly and inexplicably. Thus, he had not yet set a ring tone, so right now, it was perhaps the most annoying jingle he had ever heard. But at least it got him to answer quickly. When he spotted the contact name on the caller ID, announcing it was Gobber, his good friend and campaign manager, he flicked it open and put it to his ear, sure that the man was going to announce that his polls had shot up by two or three percent this week. Stoick wasn't expecting much, so he was completely astonished when the excited, heavily-accented voice practically yelled in his ear.

"Stoick! Stoick! You went up by almost sixty percent in the polls this week!"

"What?" The red-haired man couldn't hope to form another word than that; in fact, for a moment he pulled the phone away and stared at the screen to make sure this wasn't some elaborate joke. "Wait, what happened?"

"You tell me!" Gobber boomed into the phone. "Apparently, you saved a kid's life?!"

"I what?" Stoick yelled back, before remembering the strange, skinny auburn-haired boy whom he had pulled out of the street. He certainly wouldn't have referred to it as saving a child's life, but people in the town were hungry for excitement, and they tended to take a story and run with it. But everything did make much more sense about his stance in the polls.

"This looks brilliant for your election!" Gobber was saying enthusiastically. "The kid's a thirteen-year-old orphan from an all-male orphanage, this looks great!"

Stoick turned this news over in his mind as best as he could, but he was still a little uncertain. "I guess it does," he agreed faintly, sitting down at his kitchen table. He couldn't help seeing the boy again and again in his mind's eye. A split second decision had led to a sudden change in his polls, but he hadn't meant for that to happen. He just didn't want to see a kid get run over…

"You know what you have to do, right?" Gobber was saying when Stoick zoned back in.

"Huh?" he asked, not following.

"You've got to stick with this, milk it for all it's worth! I've got the name of the orphanage the kid's living in right now – you got to get him and be seen with him again, this could be huge!"