Rita and Hiccup as far as friends went were two peas in a pod. If the pod had room for the willowy blonde and the tiny Hiccup. And well if Rita were the bigger pod and Hiccup was content to tag along to Rita's schemes. Rita's schemes they were a plenty and a lot of the time Hiccup was left holding the bag. Not because Rita wanted him to take the fall, well that is what Hiccup's brother kept telling him, but because Hiccup just wasn't fast enough to get away. You couldn't tell Hiccup he wasn't fast enough. He wouldn't stand for that sort of talk. He was the tallest boy around and he had the best camera that he bought all by himself; he will have you know. Really he made sure I wrote that. Hiccup didn't like any bad talk about Rita, and he alienated the other children in the neighborhood standing up for Rita.

So the pair of newly molded best friends played together, laughed together, and spied on Rita's neighbors together. That was Rita's favorite pastime. And Hiccup was getting better at hopping over the fence when they got caught than he was a week ago.

And the fence was a nicer fence for it as far as fences went. The gate didn't even squeak anymore. Perhaps on Thursdays it gave a happy little squeak because the fence across the road was painted a nice sky blue and that was its favorite color.

It was the night before the start of term and Rita was in the throes of a major tantrum. This was a tantrum to end all tantrums. In fact Rita's great-great nephew will amuse his children about this tantrum over Christmas dinner the year he will announce his campaign for Minister of Magic. It will be a great night for all in attendance.

Back to the tantrum, “I'm not going,” the blond whirlwind shouted at the top of her lungs; smashing one of the dolls her Great Aunt had owled to her last year.

Her mother was in tears and tearing at the handkerchief in her shaky hands. Her father was towering before her with a scowl on his face, “You are not taking it.” he shouted back.

Rita smashed another doll and jumped on her bed. “Poor Mrs. Skeeter cries her eyes out in the corner of the bedroom of her only child.” She jumped up and down angrily. Her bed was going to have a huge headache in the morning.

“No,” he father said with every jump of his upset daughter. He was pleading with her now and she noted the change in his demeanor. She was breaking him down.

“The evil King Skeeter glowered at his beautiful daughter. Denying her the request of her heart.” She said with each jump. She jumped and jumped. “Where was her valiant wizard to break the spell of the evil king?” She jumped again and a again.

Her father's shoulders slumped and he gave in. “Alright Rita. Stop jumping.” He held out her journal. A simple book was the cause of the joyous dinner the family was having. It wasn't the books fault, all it did was lay open and fluff its pages to primp every now and then. It was a beautiful book. Given to her by her aunt. Whom the entire family was convinced was crazy. But Rita loved it. It wasn't a typical little girl's journal. It was a thick volume, wrapped with the softest black leather inscribed with Rita's name. The letters were magicked to rearranged themselves. Sometimes they were nice and gave Rita funny jokes, sometimes they were sick and begged for a nice polishing, other times they were....You get the picture.

Rita had left it outside by accident when her and Hiccup ran down to the lake to play on the swing. Rita's mother found it and was upset by its contents. Rita had a very active imagination.

She climbed off her bed with a triumphant smile on her face. She grabbed her book and hugged it to her chest. Well done, danced across the front of her journal. She looked at her mother and father, they looked at her. “Well gosh I'm sleepy. Have a big big day tomorrow.” she announced waiting for them to vacate her room so she could get some sleep. Throwing tantrums was a young girl's game and it was getting harder and harder to work up that ear splitting scream.

She climbed into her bed and pulled the covers over her head, and if her parents didn't get that message there was no hope for them in Rita's mind.