A/N: This is an AU where the Bishop is alive and healthy in 1823 (or is he?), when Valjean has just heard about Champmathieu and is struggling over whether to turn himself in. 2012 movie cast.
"Monsieur le Maire, there is a visitor here to see you," said the mayor's secretary, calling from his desk.
"Who is he?" asked Valjean. He couldn't handle a visitor, not now. Couldn't the secretary see by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he was suffering the greatest mental agony of his life? Didn't he know enough to leave him alone?
"Some bishop from the South. Says he came up to Paris for a clerical conference and this town was right on his way, so he wanted to see the famous mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer and learn his secret."
"I have no secret," said Valjean nervously, swallowing hard and looking away. "Just hard, honest work and the grace of God. And I'm not famous."
It must be a coincidence, Valjean told himself. It can't be the same bishop as-
"Well, you can tell him that," said the secretary. "You can try to be modest, but the fact is that your reputation precedes you, Monsieur. Shall I send him in?"
"Yes, of course," said Valjean absentmindedly, with a wave of his hand. "Send him into my private office that we may speak alone."
"Yes, Monsieur," said the secretary, getting up from his desk and opening the door to let in the Bishop.
Bishop Myriel walked slowly into the factory as if it were his own chapel back home. When Valjean saw his face, his breath caught, but he made no sound. There was no doubt about it; this was the same man who had saved his life all those years ago. His past just kept catching up to him. Valjean had the urge to fall to his knees in reverence toward the man whom he had considered killing once upon a time. Fortunately, if the Bishop recognized him, he gave no indication, aside from a knowing smile as Valjean led him up the steps into his office.
"So, your name is Monsieur Madeleine?" the Bishop asked once Valjean had closed the door behind them. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, and the candlesticks sat in their place of honor in the center of the mantle.
"Yes, Your Grace," Valjean stammered, trying not to look him in the eyes. "Mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer, at your service."
"Please, Monsieur, we can speak freely here. No one can hear us."
Valjean gulped. "Y- you recognize me?"
"I never forget a face, mon frère. Courage and self-abnegation are not easily disguised, neither by rags nor by riches. I am very pleased by the rumors I have heard about your benevolence in this town, and from what I have seen thus far, they are all true. You have not a malicious bone in your body; you are, and always have been, a true man of God."
"What I am," said Valjean hesitantly, "is all because of you."
The Bishop shook his head. "No," he said. "It is because of God, and because of you. I have taught you nothing if not that. I kneel down at your feet, my noble friend, for you are a far braver and better man than I could ever hope to be."
Valjean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bishop Bienvenue, the holiest man in France, was praising him! If only he knew the mental torment Valjean had been suffering for the past six hours, he wouldn't praise him. He would shame him, denounce him, tell him to get out of his sight. And Valjean would have no words with which to defend himself because the Bishop's accusations would all be true. Valjean knew that the entire reason for the Bishop's journey was to show him what must be done, to give him the courage he lacked to do what was right.
"It is nothing," Valjean said softly.
"Nothing? You came to this town with no papers and with rags on your back and managed to save a dying town from ruin, and you call that nothing?" Valjean was afraid that the Bishop would be angry. "I was born with everything, Valjean, and the Revolution stripped it all away from me. You, conversely, had nothing and were given everything by God. That includes your soul. Your clever, resourceful soul, which somehow can stay humble amidst all this laudation, and keep itself on the righteous path."
"I'm not as righteous as you think," said Valjean, finally opening up to him. "I still suffer from turmoil and self-doubt. Things are no clearer to me now than they were on that night when I straggled onto your doorstep. I'm afraid- no, I'm terrified that any path I take now may be wrong."
"Sometimes the most noble thing a man can do is to sacrifice a part of his soul for a greater good," intoned the bishop wisely, warming his hands by the fire. "It is not cowardly to bear the burden of a guilty conscience, that others may continue to reap the benefits of his prosperity for years to come."
"I never thought you would say that," said Valjean, bewildered.
"It wouldn't be the first time I have surprised you. I have lied to protect one who has done wrong; why can you not conceal the truth to protect innocent people and to preserve the good you have done?"
Suddenly Valjean remembered something, and he gasped in surprise and fear. "You died," he said, pointing at the bishop in horror. "I read about you dying. Two years ago."
"You mustn't believe everything you read in the papers, Monsieur le Maire. After all, someday rumors of your own death may be greatly exaggerated."
"So then, is this real... or is it all just happening inside my head?"
"Of course it's happening inside your head, Monsieur," said the Bishop, beginning to fade away. "But why on earth should that mean that it's not real?"
A/N: Did you spot the Deathly Hallows reference at the end?