A/N: Aside from this chapter, there may or may not be any more chapters of Arcturus. Sirius, however, might make an appearance, considering I'm pretty sure he will try to look for his Godson.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes)

Arcturus Black glared at the Newspaper article before him, shaking his head. His grandson had to be a moron and mess up his Patriarchal plans.

"Hermey!" Arcturus called, breathing a small sigh of relief as his house elf popped in and automatically handed him an earl grey tea with soy milk. He would never admit to drinking something like this, but with no one but his house elf for company, no one would ever know.

"Master Sirius be making moostake!" Hermey said in a high-pitched voice as she saw the article Arcturus had put down to take the tea from her. Her amber eyes stared up at him with reverence as if waiting for the validation of her statement.

"It's Mistake, Hermey, and yes, he did," Arcturus mumbled, automatically correcting her pronunciation. Though why he bothered really, he didn't understand. He had been teaching her for years without any real change.

Hermey just nodded and waited with her fingers crossed for Arcturus to speak. The latter pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking critically about his options.

"It would be great if we could get a time turner so the boy could make the right decision." Arcturus told Hermey.

"We don't have timey turner, Master Arcturus."

"I know that!" Arcturus snapped, ignoring the look of hurt that crossed his young house elf's features. "I'm alright for now, Hermey, thank you."

She popped away, giving him a backwards glance that Arcturus failed to notice.

Trudging slowly to the library, Arcturus rifled through his time-travelling books, wondering if he was making an error, but the idea of having no proper heir stabbed his senses, and he quickly went back to searching.

Finally, after hours and hours of research, he came across an obscure ritual that had him scrambling to his feet in excitement. It was complicated, but he was sure he had all the ingredients in his cupboard in his potions storeroom.

Needing to take a break, Arcturus leaned back against his chair, picking up the newspaper that had given him the news about his grandson.

"The Dark Lord has been defeated?" his eyes scanned the article, a massive photo of a young Harry Potter covering the front of it. How had he failed to see this the first time?

"Hermey?"

Hermey popped in again, and though her eyes appeared red-rimmed, she smiled up at Arcturus, ready to serve. "How cans Hermey be helping Master Arcturus?" she asked.

"The Dark Lord was defeated, Hermey." his cold smile dimmed, "But my grandson is still locked up right now, and that doesn't work for me."

"Hermey ready to help!"

"Let's set up the ritual." Arcturus held the book open, rubbing his eyes furiously to remain awake. Hermey seemed to be in the same condition as him but kept going.

"Here," the elderly man said, pointing out the Sirius constellation for Hermey to copy.

"This one, master?"

"Yes, well, go ahead and prepare it, Hermey," Arcturus murmured, distracted by the pull at his wards. Frowning, he went to meet whoever it was, limping slowly to the entrance with his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

Albus Dumbledore was on the other side, and with a sigh, Arcturus allowed Albus to pass, hoping that Hermey would know to hide his ritual.

"What can I do for you, Albus?" He asked, subtly trying to keep the conversation away from his mansion. Knowing Dumbledore, the light wizard could likely smell the damn ritual.

"Why don't we sit down?" He asked as if it weren't rude to call at 3 in the morning.

"I'm about to sleep, Albus; maybe come back in the morning?"

Rather than take his words at face value, Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "You aren't, of course, planning on doing something stupid, are you?" The wizened man asked of Arcturus, a hint of a condescending tone dripping into his question.

"Oh, of course not." Arcturus lied, easily not at all concerned that Albus might read his mind, as his occlumency barriers had been solid since he was a child.

"I can understand how you feel about Sirius." Albus went on, ignoring his apparent reluctance for the conversation.

"Yes, well. We can't have everything."

"Do not do anything foolish, Arcturus. Harry Potter has defeated the Dark Lord, and if you think you can do something better, think again. Do NOT do anything foolish." Albus repeated, glaring at him so harshly it reminded him why even the Dark Lord had feared him.

"Yes, thank you, Albus. Now get off my property before I hex you."

Dumbledore gave him an unimpressed look, sniffed and turned away, muttering, "I hardly believe that will be possible, Arcturus. But heed my warning, or there will be consequences."

Gritting his teeth, Arcturus returned to Hermey, where she was putting the finishing touches to the ritual.

For a moment, he considered asking Hermey to participate in the ritual but then decided against it.

Fatigue overcoming him, Arcturus wilfully ignored the Headmaster's words and sat in the circle, lighting the candles around him as he did.

His thoughts drifted to Regulus. The boy had died way too young, and if Arcturus had been honest with himself, he would have instead picked his younger grandson as his heir.

It occurred to him that aside from what he needed to read from the book, he had not done a time-travelling ritual before, and perhaps Dumbledore was right.

The corners of Earth, Air, Water and Fire lit up, spinning round and round, the fire changing colours as it danced, Mother Magic accepting his offering of what Hermey had prepared. He would need to thank her later.

"Everything is possible to him who wills only what is true! Rest in Nature, study, know, then dare; dare to will, dare to act and be silent!" Arcturus said out loud. What Mother Magic wills, Mother Magic will give, and I, as her servant, will accept. So mote it be."

Vaguely in the background, he could hear Hermey agreeing. "So mote it be!" she squeaked.

The fire reached a crescendo, going so high it tickled the tall ceiling of his manor before it exploded, and all was silent again.

Grimacing in pain, Arcturus pushed himself up, looking around. The sun was up, but that didn't necessarily mean that something had changed; he had spent time in the circle, after all.

"Hermey…"

"Master Arcturus!" Hermey said excitedly, bouncing up and down happily, "It's worked; the ritual 'tis working! Mother Magic accepted Master's sacrifice!"

And true to her word, Arcturus could feel the Black magic surrounding the manor like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. The Black Magic had picked an heir. Sirius was free at last.

"Here, Hermey."

Quickly, he scribed a letter to Sirus NOT to get himself locked up in Azkaban and that he would explain everything later.

"Bring this to Sirus, and then rest, please. We've had a long night."

Hermey bowed, then popped away.

Stretching, Arcturus banished the ritual to the dungeons to clean later and dragged himself to bed, feeling knackered but right pleased with himself. It had WORKED.

It couldn't have been more than 30 minutes later when he heard the shout of his Grandson filtering through the thick walls.

"GRANDFATHER!"

"No! Master Arcturus be sleeping," Hermey growled at him, her voice pitching higher in her righteous anger.

"It's okay, Hermey; send him up and get some rest, please." Arcturus doubted he would get any sleep at this rate.

Sirius must have run up the four floors to his room because he arrived in less than a minute.

"Sirius."

"Grandfather! What a smart idea to use a house elf."

Arcturus, who had not expected these words, looked at him strangely. "I hardly wanted to perform a Patronus," he responded, feeling his irritation increase with each moment he remained awake.

"I- What?" Sirius asked, looking at him confused.

"What do you mean, what. I sent you a letter not to do anything stupid to get yourself locked up in Azkaban."

Silence met these words, and it looked like Sirius was trying to avoid giving him a heart attack.

"Grandfather, I received your letter in Azkaban. How did you plan for me to do something dumb? I already did and ended up locked up! Your house elf agreed to take me with her back to you upon my request."

Arcturus sat bolt upright, his face stark white.

"Y-you were in Azkaban?"

"Was it not all over the papers?"

Arcturus clutched his heart, the sound fading from his senses. In the background, he could hear Sirius trying to get his attention. The Black Family Magic had picked an heir after the ritual, but if Sirius had been in Azkaban and was now an escaped prisoner, that was the least of his worries.

Something very wrong had happened with the ritual, and he had no idea what it was.

Someone out in the world was his heir, and it wasn't Sirius.

In a rundown part of Nottingham, Regulus Arcturus Black appeared out of thin air, soaking wet and young but very much alive.

A/N: 2 The first part of the Ritual that Arcturus says out loud is an excerpt from Eliphas Levi in Transcendental Magic: Its Doctrine and Ritual.