A/N: Snow's POV, third-person.

I don't own the Hunger Games. The trilogy belongs to Suzanne Collins.

Everything had to be kept to perfection. Tightly-controlled Districts ensured no rebellions would ensue. Blissfully unaware citizens of the Capitol ensured that he had played them just right, and they were all under his pridefully polished thumb.

But there was those who decided to make a stand when they shouldn't. The rebels, the ones who thought they could get away with showing their defiance to the Capitol. Well, they were in for a sore surprise. The Hunger Games made sure of that, and he personally made sure of it. One person's defiance could easily be cut out of a scene on the Games, and then an unfortunate natural disaster could wipe them out easily. Or maybe another tribute.

Everything flowed smoothly. There were no rebellions for more than fifty years, upon which Haymitch Abernathy decided he was going to outsmart the Capitol. Sure, the Gamemakers couldn't be at fault: how were they to know that a teenage boy had outsmarted them in their wits, using their own arena as a tool against them? He became the Victor from District 12 during the 2nd Quarter Quell.

But that wasn't where his problems stopped. Oh, no. District 12 had to spout out more rebels. Katniss Everdeen, and that baker's boy, Peeta Mellark. They caused him more trouble than was necessary. He tried stamping out the boy, because all he had to him was a smooth tongue; not the dangerous rebellious nature like his counterpart. But no, once again, the girl dares go and defy him with those dratted nightlock berries.

It was infuriating. A little girl dare to destroy what he had so carefully constructed! Sure, she didn't know that she was so carelessly sparking a rebellion throughout the Districts of Panem. Or maybe she did, and that was her plan all along. 'No,' he told himself calmly. 'She's not that smart.'

No, if it were anyone to give him trouble, it would have been that blasted Mentor of hers, Haymitch. He just couldn't stop. Well, he gained the upper hand by announcing the Third Quell. He could practically hear the screams of rage, the cries of anguish, and the delicious looks of fear.

The Victors were being sent back into the Hunger Games.

Of course, not all of them were. But one girl and one boy would be sent in. And the girl from 12 was definitely getting Reaped. It was a good day. No matter if the baker's boy or Abernathy went into the Games, one of them would die anyway. But no, Snow wouldn't kill Katniss. Not in the Games. He would congratulate her for being the Victor yet again, watching all the past Victors dying around her. He would break her psyche slowly, and that would be the first step.

Then he would invite her mother and sister, and her 'cousin', the Hawthorne boy. He would kill them in front of her eyes. And when she attacked him in retaliation, he'd order her death for assault of the President.

But that's not what happened.

No. Those blasted traitors of District 13, that he had wiped out 75 years previous, came and took the Victors to their sanctuary, to keep them safe. He scoffed at the mere idea. Their President was no such better than he himself. But let them get lulled into their sense of comfort, he thought, and then he'd destroy 13 once more.

They had invaded the Capitol. At first he wasn't worried. No, his Peacekeepers could handle them. But then their numbers began going downhill fast. The Victors were a lot stronger than he'd anticipated. And then she arrived, ready to kill me. Full of grief. 'Her little sister had just been blown to shards, it'd seem,' he mused. But as he looked her in the eye, he made sure she knew he was never the real enemy.

And so she shot her arrow straight through Coin, who died with a look of shock in her eyes.

And what did he do? He laughed.

Snow laughed, until he slowly died himself. The most beautiful things were meant to be destroyed.