So I love Black Books. And I got to thinking, what if Bernard was actually related to Sirius? So there's a mass funeral- or remembrance thing, or whatever- and for some reason, Bernard's there.

Harry looked around. It was a sombre day at Hogwarts, a few weeks after the battle. They were holding a mass funeral for all those who had died. Dozens of good witches and wizards had fallen to Voldemort, and it was ridiculous to hold around a hundred different funerals when they died together.

There were also many living wizards there, nearly as many as at the triwizard tournament. In any large group of wizards, there will naturally be a large number of very peculiar wizards.

However, none seemed quite so peculiar as the hairy man in a floral t-shirt standing in front of him.

"Excuse me," asked the man. He had a very nervous, twitchy voice. In fact, he was a bit like a less menacing, far more relaxed, Pettigrew. The difference was that this guy positively radiated naive goodness. "Have you seen Bernard? Bernard Black?"

"Bernard Black?" Was this some relative of Sirius? Although Sirius hated all his relatives…

"Oh, good, you know him." The man glanced around furtively. "You know, I've always wondered… What's he like? Around you wizards? Does he do…" he looked around again. "magic?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know him. Just the family name." This was a very strange man. If he was a wizard, of course he would do magic!

The man looked disappointed for a second. "All right, where's the wine table? He's probably there."

Harry was curious now. "I can show you where the wine tent is. Follow me."

As they ducked into the wine tent, a look of shock crossed the man's face. Like he'd never seen a tent that was bigger on the inside. Which would be unlikely in a fully grown wizard. The look of shock quickly turned to chagrin as the small man spotted a man passed out facedown on a conveniently placed couch. He scurried over to the man. "Bernard!" he said. "Bernard!"

The man groaned. "Manny!" he shouted. His voice was loud despite being muffled in the sofa. "The light hurts. Are those customers? Tell them to go away!"

"You're drunk already? We're not in the bookstore." Manny glanced about furtively. "We're at the… wizard school."

Bernard rolled over. He bore a slight resemblance to Sirius- the wild black hair, the baggy eyes- but was clearly very, very drunk, which was really not acceptable at any funeral. "Hogwarts? Oh, those were the days… How do you know about that?"

"Because I sort through your mail."

There was a pause. "So?"

"So your mail started talking!"

"Manny... you're crazy."

"No, it did! And it told me that there's a wizard school!"

"Of course there's a wizard school, you fool! We're in a bloody charmed tent!" He looked around blearily. "It's too early. Manny! Get my a bottle of wine!"

Manny suddenly appeared to grow a spine. He stomped his foot. "No, Bernard! I'm putting my foot down! We're in a wizarding school, and this is probably the most amazing experience in my entire life, and all you want to do is get drunk. Get up!" Then he somehow dragged Bernard off the couch and into a stand. Bernard swayed.

"Shut up, Manny. It isn't even that amazing. I mean, they did kick me out."

Manny's eyes bugged out. "They kicked you out? Out of wizarding school?"

"Are you deaf? What have I been telling you all this time? I'm a wizard!" An open bottle of wine suddenly appeared in his hand.

"What?" Manny glared at the bottle. "You could have gotten wine yourself all this time? What d'you need me for?"

"Nonsense, Manny. It's my job and duty to ruin your life, and I take great pride in my work. A magic wine tent won't stop me." He suddenly looked straight at Harry. "What are you looking at?"

"I- uhh-" Harry stammered. There was something disconcerting about the man's glare. "Are you related to Sirius Black?"

He squinted. "Which one? There are a dozen or so, that I know of, and all of them are dead."

"Umm… you know, the one who used to go here, in the 1970s."

Bernard's expression darkened. "Oh. That sod. He's my cousin, once removed and twice replaced, or something like that. Absolute cad. Couldn't bother to send a letter more 'n once a year. Complete bastard."

"Oh? What did he write about?" Harry asked hopefully.

Bernard shrugged. "Dunno. Never read any of 'em."

Harry suddenly felt very angry at this man who claimed to be a relative of Sirius. Sirius was dead, and he didn't seem to care. "Yeah, well he's dead now."

Bernard snorted. "Next you'll be telling me Trixie and Reg are dead as well."

He could only be referring to Bellatrix Le Strange and Regulus Black. Harry glowered at Bernard. "They are."

Bernard seemed to draw himself out of the alcohol induced haze slightly. "Dead? All of them?" He shook his head sadly. "Oh well. Nothing to do but toast to their memory." He raised the bottle of wine to drink, but Harry snatched it away. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, and Manny glanced nervously between the two of them. Bernard somehow pulled a knife out of his sleeve.

"Bernard- " said Manny.

Bernard held up a hand. "Shut up, Manny! No one comes between a man and his wine!" He raised the knife, and Harry shrank back…

Then Bernard suddenly turned and threw the knife at the wall of the tent. There was a strange squealing sound, like some sort of rodent, and then silence. Bernard stealthily walked over and pulled the knife out of the wall. It now had some sort of dark ooze on it. He sniffed it. Then he licked it.

Then Luna Lovegood rushed in. She saw the hole in the wall, then the knife. Then she shrieked. "You killed the Blibbering Humdinger!"

"You'll be glad I did. Awful creatures. Worse than Manny." He pointed the still dripping knife at Manny, who slowly backed away.

"That was going to be my life's work!" she said, anger sparking in her dreamy eyes.

"Shut up! We still have to find the nest!" He ran out the door, Luna following close behind.

Harry was confused. He turned to Manny. "Is he always like this?"

Manny shrugged. "Usually he's worse."

You may ask: why isn't his portrait in the mural? Because he was such a failure, they never painted it in the first place.