Dynasty

        “Reggie, Regulus, light of my life,” Sirius slammed the door to Regulus’ private compartment open without a care in the world, not quite unlike Regulus’ grand entrance into Sirius’ rooms not twenty-four hours earlier, “The moon to my-”

        “What could you possibly need, Sirius? I’m a very busy person. I’m actually trying to get you sponsors as we speak for the Hunger Games.” Regulus huffed, “You know, the death tournament you volunteered for? Ringing any bells in that cavernous space of yours you call a brain?”

        Sirius took that as an invitation to move further into the compartment, sitting on the chair directly across from his brother. “Ouch, little brother. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words actually hurt me. My word! What would mother say?”

        “I’ve elected not to dignify that monstrosity of a sentence with a response-”

        “Ha! That is a response! I won!” Sirius crowed. 

        Regulus somehow managed to look both amused and annoyed at the same time. Sirius would never understand the control that his brother had over his facial expressions. 

        A long, suffering sigh. And then, “What do you need?”

        Sirius relaxed in his plush chair and helped himself to the tea that had just appeared. Like magic, he supposed. This was going to be a long discussion. 

        Now, Sirius may have been pigheaded and prideful, but he knew intellect when he saw it; and honestly, Regulus was the most intelligent person Sirius had ever met and probably ever would. That being said, it still took a lot out of the eldest Black brother to ask for help, especially with a subject he was so out of his depth in. 

        “Regulus,” Sirius began, “I know you’re smart-” 

        Said Victor snorted, “That’s an understatement.”

        Sirius took a deep breath in and tried to control his mounting anger. “Brother,” He began once more, “I know you’re smart. Incredibly so. That’s why I’m coming to you instead of Andy.” 

        The Victor waved his hand in a regal motion that Sirius took as ‘Regulus’ for “proceed.” Sirius took a few moments to gather the thoughts that were racing through his head. A cacophony of images, sounds, and emotions whirled about that all screamed ‘Remus.’ 

        Ever since he saw that reaping video, the one of that Greek God reincarnated as a rather lanky boy from District Twelve, Remus was the only thing Sirius could think about. He couldn’t get the scarred boy out of his head, no matter what he tried. 

        He attempted picking a fight with Bellatrix to get his mind off of him, but it was in vain. Bellatrix had a bone to pick with her cousin about volunteering and gave him a piece of her mind. Her rant had lasted approximately thirty minutes, but as soon as she said the words “volunteer,” all Sirius could think about was the fact that Remus had volunteered for the Games as well, and who wouldn’t want to think about Remus? 

        Remus, with his eyes of liquid gold. Remus, with his frame that would absolutely tower over Sirius. Remus, whose jagged scars should have marred his features, but only enhanced his ethereal beauty. Remus, who actually told his mentor to go fuck himself on national television! Remus, who-

        “Sirius?” Regulus cried, shaking his cloudy-eyed brother, “Sirius, what’s wrong?”

        “Right, sorry Reggie,” Sirius answered. “I meant to ask a very hypothetical question.” 

        Regulus arched his eyebrow. “Yes?”

        “What if, and I mean this entirely hypothetically. This is a completely imaginary scenario, little brother. Keep this in mind. But, what if, again, hypothetically-”

        “SPIT IT OUT!”

        “What if a tribute couldn’t get another tribute out of his head? Specifically, a rather sinful Adonis from District Twelve with a very attractive scar? I’m asking for a friend, of course.”

        Regulus promptly stood up, walked to the door, closed it, and proceeded to hit his head on it. Repeatedly. 

        Sirius stood up. “Regulus?” he asked. “Have I finally broken you? I kind of need you as a functional mentor, so if you could snap out of whatever this is, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Why?” Regulus stalked toward his idiot of a brother, “ Of all the brothers in Panem, of all the brothers who volunteered for the Hunger Games, why was I stuck with you? What did I do in a past life? Why?” By this point, Sirius was backed into a wall with Regulus’ hands wrapped around his throat. 

        “Because you are so brilliant and the only one who could handle me?” Sirius asked as his voice raised an octave. 

        Regulus’ hands went slack, and he backed away. “Sit.” he sighed. “Sirius, I can’t even begin to tell you how dangerous this is. While you think this boy is handsome-”

        “I have eyes!”

        The younger Black brother held his hand up and Sirius’ jaw snapped shut with an audible clack.

        “He’s not my type. Anyway, you can’t think this boy is attractive. You can’t acknowledge his existence. You can’t talk to him. You can’t look at him. Hell, you can’t even breathe in his direction. Listen closely, Sirius: any interaction with this ‘Remus Lupin’ spells disaster for you. It could literally kill you. If that street rat gets even a hint of your attraction to him, it will be used against you. He would attempt to seduce you, and it would work. He would pull you in and stab you when you least expect it. I know you don't listen to me, Sirius,” Regulus sighed, “but please heed this warning. If you talk to Remus Lupin, you will end up dead.”

         “Right. Cool. Remus Lupin is a seductress. Don’t talk to him.” 

        It was at that moment that Andromeda knocked on the compartment door.

       “Boys,” she said, “We’re here.”

        The Black brothers stood up and brushed themselves off before wordlessly making their way to the train doors that would release them to the mercy of the Capitol. 

        The tributes lined up and their mentors walked next to them. Sirius put his arm around his brother's shoulders “as a show of unity,” he had said when questioned. Regulus agreed. The Capitol would be eating out of the palm of Sirius’ hand. Bellatrix moved to Sirius’ right, Andromeda to Regulus’ left. 

        The female Black tribute squeezed Sirius’ hand a bit too hard to be considered friendly. “I can’t wait for the Arena.” she had whispered. 

        “Me neither,” Sirius replied. 

        Regulus leaned into his brother’s ear. “Remember: don’t look, don’t touch.” He murmured. 

        Sirius snorted. Sure, he thought to himself, like that’ll happen. 

        After all, when has Sirius Black ever done what he was told?