Bellatrix was a child born of duty. Druella and Cygnus were obliged to procreate. To produce a pureblood heir. It was a night of rough labour and pain as opposed to the easy bliss of those in love. They coupled with the hawk eyes of their ancestors watching from their portraits. A necessary evil. Their duty. It was reflected in her personality and traits. She believed in doing her duty to the Black House just as her ancestors before her. She submitted to marriage but was never subservient to her husband's House. The Black House was hers. It was her duty to safeguard it. To prune it so that it may remain pure and reputable. She never strayed from her pureblood Black ideals unlike others. Her loyalty to her duty remained unchanged. Duty to her House and to her Dark Lord was always prominent in her thoughts. Her loyalty was an obsession, ever consuming and dangerous. It would lead to her downfall. Her obsession with duty would twist her mind and warp it beyond normality. But, she would die knowing she had fulfilled her duty. She had died for her Lord. She had died in the fight to preserve her House as was her duty.

Andromeda was a child born of passion. Druella and Cygnus had indulged their whims for one night. One night of passionate love making. One night where they were free to fulfil their carnal desires. A night away from their House. Was it any wonder Andromeda left her family for love? For the freedom of lust. Ted was a gorgeous boy and an even sexier man. The flame of list burned deeply within her. She was too controlled by passion and lust. This lust would lead her far from her roots and into a forbidden love. She didn't care for his Muggleborn status. She only wanted him. She craved him. This frenetic lust would lead to love. To happiness. To being an outcast. To having her heart broken time and time again. When Ted was forced to leave her. When Dora was killed by her sister. When she was left with Teddy. He wasn't enough. Then she hated with a furious passion. She hated her House. She hated Bellatrix for killing her daughter. She hated Narcissa for being left with Draco whilst she had nothing. She was a creature of lust and hate. Love and passion.

Narcissa was a child born of steady loyalty. Druella and Cygnus were comfortable with each other. They coupled partly out of duty and partly out of love. There was no mad lust but there was also the absence of forced procreation. It was comfortable. She was a dutiful daughter but at the same time capable of love. When Andromeda was cast out, she hardened her expression but she still felt pangs of regret and love. She knew she was to be married to Lucius Malfoy and accepted it as her fate. But a tender love sprung up between them and it was most welcome. Their love was a constant that fed Narcissa through Lucius' imprisonment. It was reflected in their son Draco. They loved him and he knew his duty. She was loyal to the Dark Lord and yet wanted nothing more than familial happiness. She knew she had to obey and disown Andi and Siri but at the same time she remembered them as her playmates. She was an entity of endurance. Able to bear anything life threw at her. It was down to her capacity as a chameleon. Her loyalty to her House and yet her ability to be empathetic.

Sirius was a child born of a reckless mistake. Walburga and Orion were engaged and yet Orion couldn't wait. It was folly on Orion's part as it hastened his marriage to Walburga, his half demented cousin. But, he had a man's needs and Walburga didn't fight him too much. Sirius was young and arrogant and a womaniser like his father. He was feckless and careless which was unsurprising given his father. However, he was brave and rebellious. Not a Black. He didn't care for his House. He befriended Muggleborns and werewolves and blood traitors. He was mischievous and a prankster. A reckless boy who would shame the House of Black. He would fight back unlike his mother and he didn't take without asking unlike his father. He was noble in spite of his faults. A Gryffindor not a Black. A troublemaker, a mistake, a Gryffindor. All of these things were the opposite of what the House of Black stood for. But he was a Black. His arrogance was unfounded, he looked like a good pureblood but at the end of the day he stood up for truth and light. That was what marked him out as different, even as a child. He would die smirking like a Black but for the cause of heroes. To save Harry always.

Regulus was a child born of obedience. Walburga now controlled Orion. She showed him who the ruler was. And she wanted another son to cement her pride. He was that son. A perfect model of obedience unlike his brother Sirius. He was Sorted into Slytherin and upheld the family name. He followed his cousin into the service of the Dark Lord just as his mother wished. He ended all relations with Sirius on his mother's say so. He obeyed everything his mother told him and behaved exactly as his father instructed. He wanted to raise the name of Black up high just as he had always been taught. But then came a day when he finally made his own decisions. He defied the Dark Lord. He broke free of his image as the perfect pureblood son. He still obeyed his mother of course. But he no longer conformed to the ideals of the Dark Lord. He chose his path and hoped Sirius would forgive him. And then he acted as a hero. He died a hero. Just like his brother. They weren't so different after all.

However, all the Black children shared one thing. They were all Blacks. They were all subjected to the education of Blacks. And they all never had a chance to be children. Happy children free from restrictions.

Each grew up and chose their own path,

But they would all be bound by their name:

Black-'Can you see those children?'

'They're the Blacks'

Monsters and heroes,

They fight each other.

Bellatrix the true Lord Black,

Andromeda the Muggleborn lover,

Narcissa the pureblood lady ideal,

Sirius the rebel and hero,

And Regulus the brave.

Their name is Black, it's true,

Yet they are not so different,

From me and you.

A/N Thanks for reading! I really want constructive criticism, especially about my poetry.