Something to Come Home to

Everything was quiet when Max Bishop emerged to consciousness, though his thoughts were a jumbled mess of lights, curses and shouts of anger or agony. He was confused, he didn't know where he was and couldn't open his eyes since they refused to cooperate when he attempted to lift his eyelids.

What he did know was that he was lying on something soft, probably a bed, and there was a strange scent of potions, salves and a familiar perfume.

Finally he was able to slowly open his eyes, and they were instantly assaulted by bright sunlight, forcing them to close quickly. Then he opened them again, making sure to avoid looking directly into the bright light streaming in through the window.

It took a moment for his vision to focus and when it did, he was taken aback by the face of a beautiful woman leaning over him. She had fair, delicate features, auburn hair that hung down past her shoulders loosely and bright, livid hazel eyes, which were moist with tears and full of concern.

He let out a quiet gasp of shock and happiness, it was his wife; it was Meagan. His mouth opened to say her name and how happy he was to see her, when reality pushed through the haze in his mind and told him the truth rather rudely.

This woman wasn't Meagan, it was her sister Anne. Meagan died fifteen years ago, killed by a desperate man in order to keep himself out of prison.

His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to force himself to fall back to sleep and dream of the last week he was able to spend with his beloved...

* * *

The torrential rains that usually plagued London had just finished when a much younger Maxwell Bishop, dressed in a plain grey Muggle business suit, Apparated into a dingy alley in White Chapel. He shivered as the cold instantly bit into him; he always hated Apparating from an indoor location to an outdoor one, especially during the winter or autumn.

James Darcy suddenly appeared next to Bishop, donned in a bright green suit with red tie. The wizard was shorter than Bishop, with a head of thick, curly sandy brown hair and had a bushy moustache. Bishop glanced at the man with a look mixed between disgust and amusement.

"Did you have to wear that?" asked Bishop with mocking scorn as he surveyed the outrageous suit. "I know we were to put on Muggle clothing before heading out here, but you just look ridiculous."

"Hey, Maxie, this is all the rage right now in Muggle London," replied James defensively, tugging at the exceedingly large lapels of his suit.

"So the Muggles are dressing like circus tents now? Didn't figure on that," said Bishop with a smirk before he started making his way out of the alley and down the street towards their destination.

The two wizard's destination was yet another alley down a few blocks from where they Apparated in. They found the alley dark, with only a single figure standing before it. The man was dressed in a Muggle suit much like Bishop's, but it was dark blue with pinstripes, and he had a short crop of brown hair neatly combed back.

Bishop recognized him instantly as Murphy Johnston, a Hit Wizard with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Hey Max, James; what brings you pair down here? I didn't think a murder would require Aurors," greeted the man stiffly and with some suspicion as he held out his hand to Bishop.

Bishop nodded back and took the offered hand, shaking it firmly. "Hey, Murphy; they usually don't, but we were in the office when the call came down and thought we'd come down for a look."

"Well, it's not much to look at. The poor bloke is back there, dead as a Muggle broomstick," replied Murphy as he shrugged and jerked a thumb over his shoulder into the alley. "I was just waiting for the Recovery Team to show up and cart him off to St Mungo's."

"Do we know how he died?" asked James as he attempted to peer around Murphy and down the alley.

"Not a scratch on him, so I reckon it was the killing curse," answered Murphy grimly before he motioned down the alley. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if you two have a little peek around."

"Wouldn't hurt a sniff," replied Bishop as he shook his head and moved to follow the wizard.

The trio easily made their way down the dark and wet alley to find the prone figure of a man lying on the dirty pavement. Bishop knelt down beside the body once he reached it and looked the victim over. The man appeared to be middle aged, for a wizard, and had a mane of oily dark hair. There was a look of pain and surprise etched onto his dead face, which was marred severely with pox marks.

This man didn't die well and obviously wasn't expecting it.

"Do we have an ID on the man?" asked James, remaining standing with Murphy while Bishop examined the victim.

Bishop already knew who the victim was, but didn't share that with his partner.

"I recognize him as Ralph Stimson, a low life who's been arrested and fined numerous times for break and entry and a number of other minor offences," replied Murphy with a mild look of distain on his face, "nothing that I'd think would lead to someone murdering him."

"Unless he stole something from the wrong person," replied Bishop ominously as he began to search through the dead man's robes. "Have you found his wand?"

"I haven't touched him," answered Murphy with a shake of his head, "I was waiting for the Recovery Team to arrive before I started cataloguing his belongings."

Bishop quickly found what he was searching for and withdrew what he assumed with Stimson's wand. It was made of ash and appeared quite old and battered.

He held the wand out before him and gave it a little flick. "Priori Incantato."

Suddenly the end of the wand ignited with light. Bishop arched a curious brow at that and flicked the wand once more. "Nox."

The light blinked out and Bishop slowly stood, his eyes still fixed upon the wand in his grasp. "Funny."

"What's funny?" asked James as he moved to stand beside Bishop and inspect the wand as well.

"The last spell that Stimson used was Lumos," replied Bishop as he handed the wand to James for a closer inspection.

"How's that odd?" asked Murphy, curious now that the Auror's seemed interested in this fact.

"Why would he need light?" asked Bishop as he looked at the Hit Wizard.

"Well, the alley is rather dark," suggested Murphy as he shrugged.

"But not dark enough that you can't see unaided," countered Bishop as he glanced back down at the dead body. "Our friend Stimson here doesn't appear the type to want to draw more attention to himself, especially in a Muggle neighbourhood."

"Maybe he dropped something and was looking for it," suggested James as he lowered the wand and looked at the two.

"Maybe, but why not just summon what it was that he dropped?" asked Bishop, still curious about the events that led to Stimson's death, even though it wasn't his case.

"Who knows why the bloke did what he did before he bought it," said James with a bit of irritation, "it's not even our case, Maxie, why are we out here anyways? Aren't we supposed to be tracking down that Dolohov bloke wanted for murdering that crowd of Muggles?"

"He's probably here because he knows that I was talking to Stimson just yesterday," announced an annoyed but silky voice from the end of the alley.

All three men turned to watch as a woman with soft brown hair tied back loosely, and dressed in unobtrusive blue robes. She had an unmistakably irritated look on her comely face. Her bright hazel eyes were locked onto Bishop and they held a defiant fire behind them.

"Hey Meg," greeted Bishop as he put on the most charming smile he could muster for his wife. "I just thought that James and I could pop down here and see what we could do to help."

"I see that, yes," replied Meagan Bishop briskly, unaffected by Bishop's attempt to charm her to a more amiable mood. "This isn't a job for Aurors, Max. This is a simple murder and falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry Hit Wizard Squads."

"That's what I tried to tell him," said James as he gave Bishop a disparaging look, "but he insisted on coming down anyhow."

Meagan put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips into a thin line. She then sighed and looked down at the body of Ralph Stimson. "What've you found?"

"That the last spell that Stimson cast was Lumos," explained James as he handed the wand to the witch, "we were just discussing why he'd cast it."

"James and I both think he was just simply trying to see better down the alley. Max here thinks there's something more to it," added Murphy.

"It's not dark enough that he couldn't see without help," said Meagan thoughtfully as she looked the wand over, then her gaze moved to Murphy. "How long do you think he's been down here?"

"From body temperature and lividity; I'd reckon no more than four hours or so," replied Murphy as he looked back down at the body for a moment.

"Apparent cause of death?" asked Meagan.

"Right now I'm guessing Avada Kedavra," answered Murphy, looking back at the woman.

"Do we even know if the poor bloke died in this alley?" asked James.

"Oh, he definitely died here," said Bishop as he nodded quietly, his eyes looking about the alley, "I can just sense the residual magic used to kill him."

"I can feel it too," muttered Meagan as she appeared to shudder a little.

"So, what was it that you were talking with Stimson about?" asked Bishop.

The witch shot her gaze at Bishop with a frown on her face, and then she sighed and shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore now that he's dead. I was trying to get him to give me a list of people he's sold Dark Objects to. He had three charges of theft hanging over his head and a trip to Azkaban. I was on the verge of convincing him to play Quidditch and act the snitch, but I guess someone got antsy and decided to shut him up."

"And shut him up they did. Permanently," said James grimly.

"Fortunately, he gave me one name before he died," said Meagan as a small smirk came across her lips.

"Who's that?" asked Bishop.

Meagan looked at her husband and gave him a sly smile before shaking her head slowly. "I'm afraid I can't give out that information yet." She then looked at Murphy. "Can I leave you here to wait for the Recovery Team? I've got to head back to the office and speak to Arthur Weasley."

"Can do," replied Murphy crisply. "I should be here for a little while longer. With all the bloody suicides by Death Eaters lately, the lads down in Recovery have their hands full."

"We've noticed that too since You-Know-Who finally bought it," said James as he nodded with a satisfied smirk on his face, "I reckon they just couldn't live without their precious 'Dark Lord', eh?"

"Don't call him that!" hissed Bishop with a wince as he shot a glare at his partner. "That bastard was definitely no Lord."

"Sorry, Max," apologized James quickly.

"Hopefully whatever that little Potter boy did keeps him from ever coming back," said Murphy with a shiver and then motioned to the dead Stimson at his feet. "I hope that from now on we just have to deal with low life Wizards merely murdering each other for some Dark bauble they found."

"A shame they won't stop doing that either," quipped Meagan bitterly before she turned her gaze to the three men. "Anyhow, I'd better be off. I need to talk to Arthur Weasley about some illegally Muggle enchanted artefacts."

"I'll come with you," offered Bishop, moving to accompany the witch down the alley.

"Max, we need to get on that Dolohov case!" protested James.

"You go on ahead, James, I'll catch up," replied Bishop as he followed his wife to the end of the alley.

Meagan and Bishop left the two wizards with the body and Bishop heard the cracking sound signalling that James had Apparated away.

The couple then proceeded down the street to the Ministry car Meagan was using since she was currently suffering a minor inner ear infection and Apparating caused her to become disoriented.

"I still think you should ask for a leave of absence," chided Bishop as he climbed into the passenger side of the car while Meagan got behind the steering wheel. "The potion that the Healer gave you isn't working yet."

"I'm not staying home sick because I get a little dizzy when I Apparate," replied Meagan sharply as she started the car and began driving away from the curb.

"You get more than a little dizzy, Meg. The last time you tried to Apparate you upchucked your breakfast," replied Bishop dryly while looking out the windscreen to watch the London streets zoom by.

"I can get around just fine with this car until I get better," said Meagan as she guided the speeding car between a flatbed truck and a post box on the curb.

"If you say so," said Bishop, unconvinced.

It didn't take long for the pair to finally reach the Ministry garage and ride the lift down into the Ministry of Magic. They made their way through the atrium and checked in with the Security Wizard to proceed to the lifts that led to the other Departments.

"I thought you and James were supposed to be tracking down Antonin Dolohov," said Meagan as they both stepped onto one of the lifts and she hit the button for level two.

"James can handle it for now. We're just running down a few leads we have on the block," replied Bishop as he pulled the gilded lift doors closed. "I'm more curious about what you're up to. What's so blasted important you can't tell me?"

She sighed quietly and glanced at him with a sour look. "Max, I thought we agreed that we weren't going to get involved with each other's work? I don't pester you about whatever case you're on. I know that what I do isn't as important, but I thought you'd respect me enough to just let me do my job."

"Bloody hell, Meagan," sighed Bishop and he shook his head, "you do important work, so does the rest of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. I just want to make sure what you're doing isn't too dangerous."

"Aha!" barked the witch and she spun around to give him an icy glare. "So the truth comes out finally! You don't think I can handle myself! As you very well know, Maxwell Bishop, I was on the squad that brought in Sirius Black himself after he killed Peter Pettigrew and all those Muggles. I would think that would show how able I am!"

"I know you were, Meg," replied Bishop quietly and paused as the gilded lift doors opened, revealing the level Meagan pressed. "I don't question your abilities. You're a very skilled witch."

"Then just let me do my job!" snapped Meagan and she stepped off the lift, then slammed the caged door shut before he could follow her. "And you should go do yours. I'll see you later if you make it home tonight."

Bishop just sighed and watched as Meagan stomped off, her long brown hair flowing behind her, before the lift began moving back down since someone had obviously summoned it. He would most likely be sleeping on the sofa tonight; she definitely seemed that hacked off at him.

* * *

Bishop felt the crack of his Apparation fill his ears as he appeared behind a large old house with darkness surrounding him. He had since changed out of the grey business suit he donned earlier that day and was now in his typical charcoal robes he typically wore while on duty.

Through the dim light of the overcast moon he made out the figure of his partner, James, crouched behind a row of thick bushes. The Auror waved Bishop over once he appeared and he quickly moved to join him.

"What do you have?" asked Bishop. He had come as soon as James sent him the owl bearing the message that he had tracked down the location of where Antonin Dolohov had holed up. It was in an abandoned manor outside of Surrey.

"Dolohov and two others, I couldn't get an I.D. on the two others," replied James anxiously, his dark eyes moving back to the run down house, "had entered through the back door about twenty minutes ago, and they haven't come back out. I haven't heard any sign that they've Apparated out either."

"Damn," muttered Bishop, mentally kicking himself for Apparating so close. Unless they were deep inside the building, they probably heard the crack of him Apparating in. "Three of them? Do you reckon we should send for back-up?"

James sent Bishop a wry smirk. "Back-up? Don't think we can handle three Death Eaters on our own, Maxie?"

"Just want to be careful, that's all," replied Bishop gravely, his eyes attempting to find any sign of movement from within the house.

"'Careful' isn't a word I thought I'd hear out of your mouth, Max," said James dryly as he too looked back at the seemingly empty dwelling.

"With the war now over, I thought I'd take it easy. Since the future's looking so bright these days, it might be best if we proceeded with caution from here on in," explained Bishop as he reached into his robes to draw his wand.

"I agree with you there, Maxie, but we might be in the wrong business for that," said James, drawing out his own wand. "Though, right now we have a job to do. So, unless you want to wait about for help, let's get cracking."

"Right," replied Bishop and he motioned towards the side of the building. "You go around and cover the front door while I take a look through the back. I'll shout if there's any trouble."

"I doubt I'll have any problems detecting whether or not you run into any trouble, Maxie," said James with a grin before he slipped off into the darkness and disappeared around the line of tall shrubs.

Once James was out of sight Bishop crept out of the bushes and slowly made his way towards the rickety back door, his wand aimed at it, prepared to curse anything that may come out of it. After he reached the door he lightly tapped the door knob, and seeing that it wasn't hexed or cursed, he put a hand on it and turned.

Easily the door clicked ajar and he slowly pushed it the rest of the way open, its hinges squeaking softly as it did so. He looked down the dark corridor that led to a small, dark kitchen and then stepped inside.

All remained gloomy and silent as he continued further into the house. Beyond the kitchen was another door that led to a barren pantry and a hall that continued towards an equally barren sitting room with stairs off to the side of it that went both up and down.

Bishop was about to approach the stairwell when the sound of footsteps coming down it caused him to pause. He quickly and silently darted back into the hall and crouched in the shadows.

Three robed figures emerged from down the stairs and entered the empty sitting room.

"Bloody hell, Antonin, couldn't you find a better place for us to hold up?! This place is covered in dust!" complained a woman with annoyance. Bishop saw that she had short blonde hair and a cruel look in her pales eye as she waved about the room.

"Shut it Lysandra," growled one of the two men that accompanied the witch. He had stringy dark hair and his face was twisted into a permanent sneer as he glowered at the blonde woman. "This is the best Antonin could do on such short notice. That blasted Moody has been on our trail for a week now and he's almost caught us twice!"

"I'm just happy I ain't got that Mad-Eye on my trail. Don't know who they sent after me," rasped Dolohov, who Bishop instantly recognized. The man had a dark look about his lined face and had short dark hair; there was a dangerous glint in his black eyes. "Hopefully it's some second rate rookies."

A sly smirk came across Bishop's face; he wasn't a rookie, having been an Auror for at least ten years now, nor did he think of himself as 'second-rate', since he had the second highest capture rate next to the legendary Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

There was a flash of movement from one of the windows beside the front door and Bishop immediately took it as a sign that James was in place.

"Petrificus Totalus!" shouted Bishop as he aimed his wand at the second wizard in the sitting room that wasn't Dolohov. Immediately the unidentified wizard snapped into an erect statue and slowly toppled over to the floor.

The remaining two Death Eaters spun about as Bishop emerged from the shadows, his wand aimed at them. "Alright, Dolohov, you've got two choices here. One: Drop your wand and come peacefully, or two: I force you."

"Go to hell, Auror!" growled Dolohov and he aimed his wand. "Reducto!"

The Auror was expecting the attack and he hastily threw up a shield charm to deflect the blasting curse, and then fired one back at the Dark Wizard.

Dolohov wasn't as quick to parry the attack and it struck him in the shoulder, which sent him spinning violently to the floor. Lysandra let out a shriek of rage and let off two quick fiery hexes of her own at Bishop, who easily leapt out of the way.

At that moment the front door exploded inwards and James came rushing in after it. He quickly pointed his wand at the witch and fired off a stunning curse, which sent her to the dusty floor in a crumpled heap.

This was almost too easy.

Before Bishop could summon ropes to bind the still conscious and moving Dolohov, the Death Eater surged off the floor and slashed his wand at James.

"Evisero!" yelled Dolohov and a whip of purple flame shot out and struck the unprepared James square in the chest.

Bishop watched in shock and horror as his partner let out a shriek of surprise and agony while dropping his wand, clutching his at chest. A stream of blood began pouring from James' mouth as he fell to the floor in a quivering heap.

"Evisero!" snarled the Death Eater again, but Bishop wasn't caught unawares like his partner and friend. He threw himself to the side to avoid the jet of purple lightning and slammed into the wall.

"Reducto!" shouted Bishop as he fired out another blast of fiery red magic, which Dolohov deflected barely.

"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Dolohov, obviously wanting to end this battle and escape from his would-be captors.

The killing curse missed its target since Bishop had gone into motion long after he fired off his last spell. The green jet of magic slammed into the wooden wall, causing it to explode violently.

"Diffindo!" exclaimed Bishop as he continued to run across the room. The cutting hex caught Dolohov on the shoulder and the Death Eater let out a shout of pain and surprise.

Then before he could counter attack, Bishop acted quickly and let out a quick salvo of silent spells.

The first once again slashed into Dolohov, this time across his thigh and he collapsed to one knee, growling in pain and fury.

Bishop's second spell was a blasting curse that threw him back hard against the wall and even before the Death Eater could fall to the floor, a stunning curse that rendered him unconscious.

He didn't even check to see if all three Death Eaters had been dispatched before Bishop fell to his knees at James' side. The wizard appeared unconscious with his mouth full of dark blood.

"Merlin's Beard," gasped Bishop as his face paled when he saw the sight his partner was in. He felt for a pulse and didn't find one.

Bishop let his shoulders slump and he closed his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. "Bloody Hell, James."

James Darcy, his partner of five years, was dead.

* * *

"It's not your fault, Max. James knew of the risks when he became an Auror, just like the rest of us. Just like you," said Alastor Moody as he placed a large, comforting hand on Bishop's shoulder.

The pair were currently in Bishop's cubicle in Auror's Headquarters. Bishop had just finished the Capture Report on Dolohov and the other two Death Eaters with him, as well as the Incident Report about James' death.

"It happened so quickly, I don't think James even saw it coming," said Bishop quietly as he slouched over his desk, his eyes stared down at the parchment he wrote the Incident Report on. "Do they know what the spell Dolohov used yet?"

Mad-Eye shook his head, which caused his mane of grey hair to swing about his shoulders slowly, a scowl twisting his scarred face. "They haven't figured it out yet. I think it was a special little surprise Dolohov developed himself, the cur."

"Too bad they don't have the death penalty anymore," added a harsh voice from behind Moody and the visage of Eric Williamson appeared over the old Auror's shoulder. The pony tailed rookie Auror continued, his face fixed into a wicked scowl. "Sending a bastard like Dolohov to prison is a waste of bloody space."

"I wouldn't be speaking like that, Williamson, if you've ever visited Azkaban," rumbled Moody as his electric blue magical eye spun about to look at the young Auror. "Those bloody Dementors are worse than facing death, if you ask me."

"Well, I hope that those Dementors suck the goddamned life out of the bastard," said Bishop darkly as he pushed himself out of his chair, "James was a good man and a better Auror, he didn't deserve to die."

"Not many people do, Max," added Moody before he patted Bishop's shoulder again. "Scrimgeour sent me down here to give you the next few days off. I think we can handle anything that may come up. Go on home, Max."

"Yeah, Bish, we'll look after things," added Williamson with a sympathetic voice while employing his 'pet' nickname he had for Bishop.

The last thing that Bishop wanted to do was go home. He wanted to pick up another case and pursue yet another Death Eater to send them to that prison island, not sit and stew about his loss. Though, the suggestion that he go home for a few days by Scrimgeour was probably more like an order, and he couldn't refuse it.

"Alright," said Bishop finally with reluctance as he gave the grizzled Auror a nod. "Send an owl if I'm needed."

"Don't worry, lad, I will," replied Moody grimly with a solemn nod. "Take care of yourself, Max."

Bishop made his way out of Auror Headquarters, pausing to accept several sympathetic condolences about the loss of his partner that night, and went down to the Atrium.

He left the Ministry via Floo and appeared in a flash of green flame in the sitting room of his modest home on the outskirts of London.

At first Bishop thought that no one was home and assumed that Meagan must still be at the Ministry working late, but when he went into the kitchen to fix himself a meal he found his wife at the kitchen table.

She was hunched over a pile of parchments, reading one in particular. Her head shot up when he entered the kitchen and a light smile came to her lips, which instantly turned into a concerned frown when she saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" She stood up to walk over to him and touched his arm.

"James Darcy was killed tonight," answered Bishop dumbly as he looked down at her.

"Merlin's Beard!" gasped Meagan and she quickly wrapped her arms around him. "How? What happened?"

He hugged her back tightly and buried his face in her soft brown hair; just being near her caused some of his sorrow to drain away. "We tracked down Antonin Dolohov to this house outside of Surrey; he had three Death Eaters with him. There was a fight and James got hit with some kind of curse that tore him up inside."

Quickly she jerked her head back and looked at him with fearful eyes. "Did you get hurt?"

"No," replied Bishop quietly. "After James went down I managed to take out Dolohov and secure his partners. I've come from Headquarters, just finished the reports."

Meagan nodded her head quickly and hugged him tight again. "Poor James! What's Joanne going to do? Didn't they have a child on the way?"

"I don't know," answered Bishop; he hadn't even thought of James' young wife, or their young son, both of whom were no doubt getting the bad news via owl or a Councillor Wizard. "Maybe we'll go see her tomorrow. Rufus gave me the next few days off."

"We should do that," said Meagan as she nodded and stepped back, still peering at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I should be," he replied quietly, not feeling alright at the moment, but all he could do was grieve for his friend and partner, then move on.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll knock some dinner up for us. I've just got in about half an hour ago myself and didn't have time to eat." She guided him to a chair and sat him down on it.

"What are you working on?" asked Bishop as he started to look over the parchment strewn about the small kitchen table. He caught a glimpse of a familiar name: Malfoy.

"Just following the lead that I got from Ralph Stimson before he died," replied Meagan hastily before she brandished her wand and waved it over the parchments, causing them to vanish. "I think I may also have figured out why Stimson needed to light his wand while in that alley."

"Oh? Why's that?" asked Bishop, happy to be talking about something else other than James' death at the moment. He watched as Meagan began to busy herself preparing a quick meal of reheated Irish stew.

"We found traces of Darkness Powder in the alley after the body was removed," replied the witch as she started the stove under the crock of stew.

"Well a Lumos spell wouldn't help you see through that," replied Bishop with a frown, "though, that's what I'd try to do if I found myself suddenly in the dark like that."

"Exactly. Murphy thinks that whoever killed Stimson tossed a handful of Darkness Powder into the alley to confuse him. It would definitely make it easier to pick him off, blinded like that," said Meagan.

"Though the murderer wouldn't be able to see either, how could he aim his spell if he couldn't see his target?" asked Bishop, still frowning as he worked the problem out in his head.

"Maybe he was standing next to Stimson when he killed him," suggested Meagan as she lifted the now steaming crock off the stove and guided it over to the table with her wand.

"I wouldn't want to be that close to someone when using Avada Kedavra on them," replied Bishop while he shook his head and watched as two bowls and spoons appeared on the table.

Meagan joined Bishop at the table and began ladling the hearty stew into the two wooden bowls she conjured. "Murphy also found a witness after we left. A Muggle beggar who said that he saw two men enter the alley, then that everything seemed to go dark and then heard a loud crack, which he thought with a gumshot."

"It's gunshot, dear," corrected Bishop with a light, playful smile coming to his face. He always found it amusing when his Wizard born wife misspoke or misused Muggle terms. Since he was Muggle-born, he was able to use them easily. The smile then faded back into the ponderous frown. "The crack was probably whoever entered the alley with Stimson and killed him Apparating away."

"That's what I thought too," replied Meagan with a nod before she ate a spoonful of stew.

"Did this beggar get a good look at who the second man was?" asked Bishop before he too began to tuck in to the stew.

"I think the man was so drunk at the time we were lucky that he saw anything at all," replied Meagan as she shook her head slowly, a frown on her face, "and we can't ask him about the incident anymore since an Obliviator Squad arrived and wiped his memory."

That caused Bishop's frown to deepen and he lowered his spoonful of stew back down to his bowl. "That quickly? I know the chaps down at Magical Catastrophes like to move fast, but the bloke was a ruddy witness to a crime."

"That's what my complaint to Cornelius Fudge says," said Meagan darkly as she slapped her spoon into her stew rather abruptly. "Murphy said that he was in the middle of sobering the man up when the Obliviators moved in and took jurisdiction. The buggers could've given Murphy another twenty minutes and we might have learned more."

"That's damned peculiar," mused Bishop before an idea occurred to him. "I saw a name on one of the parchments you left on the table: Malfoy."

Meagan started and gave him a side-long glance. "You certainly read fast. What about the name?"

"Well, the Malfoys are a heavily connected family. Maybe if one of them was involved, they could've had the Obliviators show up before you could learn anything important," suggested Bishop.

"That's possible too," replied Meagan shortly as she turned her attention back to her dinner.

"Meg," began Bishop as he leaned towards his wife, "if any of this has to do with Lucius Malfoy... Maybe you should turn it over to..."

The witch instantly looked up at him, a soft scowl on her face. "This is my case, Max. We've had this discussion earlier."

"The man is a suspected Death Eater, Meagan," retorted Bishop, his voice remaining calm despite her hot tone. "The only reason he's not locked up right now is because he has old money and claimed to be under the Imperius curse when he worked for You-Know-Who."

"I know his story, thank you," replied Meagan icily. "If your people can't nail him on being a Death Eater, maybe I can pin a Misuse of Dark Magic charge or Possession of a Dark Object on him, maybe something even bigger that'll land him in prison."

"What would land him in prison?" asked Bishop, now very curious.

She paused for a moment, as if pondering whether she should divulge more information, then continued. "There have been a number of nasty cursed keys hitting the Muggle cities; car keys specifically. When the Muggle inserts the key into the ignition and turns to turn the engine over, the curse is activated and the whole damn vehicle explodes."

"Bloody hell," whispered Bishop as he grimaced. "Why do you think Lucius Malfoy has anything to do with that?"

"The Malfoys hate Muggles, and some of the victims have also been Muggle-born and Squibs," replied Meagan quietly. "Perhaps he's trying to continue his former boss's work indirectly. We caught Stimson with one of those cursed keys, but he claimed he didn't know what it was."

"Well, if Malfoy were having these keys created, or making them himself, it would send him on a one-way trip to Azkaban," said Bishop as he nodded and pushed his bowl away since he had finished his stew.

"If it can't be proven that he's a Death Eater, then we can send him away for Muggle baiting," said Meagan with a small smile on her face as she too pushed her empty bowl aside.

"Lucius Malfoy's a powerful wizard, in more ways than one, maybe you should send this case to the Auror's Office," suggested Bishop softly as he reached out to touch his wife's hand.

She took his hand and squeezed it firmly. "Max, I can handle this. Once I get the evidence I need, I'll report it to Amelia Bones and I'm sure she'll give it to you guys. Now, I don't want to talk anymore about this tonight and you've had a rough night. Let's go on up to bed."

Reluctantly Bishop nodded in agreement. He still wanted to talk about this and try to convince her to let the Auror's take over the investigation, but she had made up her mind and when that happened, he might as well argue with the stew crock.

The couple then cleaned up and went upstairs to bed.

* * *

It was a beautiful morning and Max Bishop was in an equally beautiful mood as he got out of the bed he shared with his even more beautiful wife.

Despite the fact that he was still grieving over his partner, who had been murdered only four days previous, a night of passionate lovemaking with his wife always seemed to cause him to walk with an extra skip in his step for the rest of the day.

As Meagan lounged lazily in the bed, her eyes only half open and a look of happy satisfaction on her face, Bishop walked over to the bedroom window and pushed aside the curtains to let in the morning sunlight.

He looked down at the suburban London street below and watched as a young couple walked by the house. Fortunately, they didn't look up at the second story bedroom window, since Bishop was completely undressed at the moment.

"So, you're going back into work today?" asked Meagan languidly from the bed as she stretched, causing the blanket to slip down to her waist. She wasn't wearing anything underneath those blankets.

"Mad-Eye sent an owl yesterday that they need me back in. Apparently there are a couple of Death Eaters that Barty Crouch wants found and found yesterday," replied Bishop as he watched the couple cross the small street hand-in-hand to continue their trek on the other side of the road.

They reminded him so much of him and Meagan, before they became so world weary.

"It's too bad. You haven't had this much energy since we first started dating," complained Meagan as a provocative smile crossed her lips.

He turned around to look at his wife and smiled as he saw her stretched out on the bed utterly naked, the morning sun casting her milky skin in a soft glow. "You know, you're going to make it hard leaving when you lounge about like that."

"Hmm... Maybe that's the idea," replied Meagan as she stretched her arms over her head, causing her to amorously thrust out her rather voluptuous chest.

"First lesson I learned when I became an Auror, dear," said Bishop with a grin as he watched his wife while he went to the wardrobe to get his clothes, "resist the temptations of the Dark Side."

"That's probably why I never became an Auror," replied Meagan, giving him a sly smirk.

Bishop merely winked at the sensuous witch as he opened the simple mahogany wardrobe they both shared, and began pulling out a pair of simple trousers and a button-down shirt, along with his charcoal robes he always wore to work.

"Just to remind you," said Meagan as she watched him dress, "Anne's coming over tonight for dinner, so if you can find time to stop by, I'd appreciate it."

The wizard merely nodded as he buttoned his shirt, then reached for his robes. He always had liked Anne, even if she were a few years younger than he and Meagan, and was a little uptight sometimes. "I'll try to make it by if this new case doesn't drag me away."

"Good, she's still upset about her friend Lily dying and I thought she could use the company. Besides, you always seem to cheer her up," replied Meagan as she finally got out of bed.

She had the day off today and didn't need to go into the office, but she had told Bishop the night before that she was going to do some work on her own case.

"It was a shame that the Potter's died like they did, but at least their sacrifice was able to rid us of that blasted You-Know-Who," said Bishop quietly as he watched his wife walk across the room completely nude.

He was seriously tempted to call in sick, but knew that Moody would have his arse in a sling if he did. "Anyhow, I've got to get going. I'll try and see you tonight."

Meagan nodded and smiled softly as she stepped up to him and pressed herself against his body, then touched a soft, tender kiss to his lips. "I'll be waiting forward to it."

It wasn't easy, but Bishop finally was able to drag himself away from his wife and slipped on his robes as he descended the stairs to the sitting room, from there he Apparated away to the Ministry, his mind working on how he could possibly find an excuse to make it home that night.

* * *

"You look rather chipper this morning, Max," greeted Gawain Robards as Bishop entered the Auror's Headquarters, the man looked the same as always; square jaw, greying brown hair cut short and piercing dark eyes. "I reckon I needn't have to ask if you're doing alright with that cheery glow about you."

"Well, I'm feeling just fine nonetheless," replied Bishop, flashing the Auror a small, but bright smile. "How've things been around here?"

"A bloody mess," answered Gawain with a dark scowl coming over his face. "Frank and Alice Longbottom were attacked last night."

That caused Bishop to stop in his tracks as he stared at the wizard in disbelief. "What? How!? Are they alright?"

"They're alive, if what you can call the state they're in alive," replied Gawain grimly. "They're in St Mungo's and I have a feeling that they aren't going to be coming out anytime soon."

"What happened to them?" asked Bishop, still stunned from the news.

"Cruciatus," rumbled Mad-Eye Moody as he limped into view beside Gawain. "They've been tortured into insanity."

"Bloody Hell!" gasped Bishop as he found the nearest chair to collapse into. "Do we know who did it?"

Moody nodded softly, his heavily scarred face twisting into a vicious scowl. "Just found out last night, heard it through confession from Igor Karkaroff: Barty Crouch Junior, Bellatrix Lestrange, and her husband and brother-in-law."

"Is that why I've been called back in?" asked Bishop, the shock now wearing off and the need for action replacing it.

"Yep," replied Moody and he withdrew a scroll from his robes, which he then tossed to Bishop who caught it, "Scrimgeour wants you to track down Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus, and bring them back for trial."

"I'll bring 'em in," said Bishop quietly as he stood and opened the scroll. On the parchment were pictures of his new quarry.

The witch, Bellatrix, was a rather striking woman with milky white skin and a luxurious mane of ebony hair, but she had a cruel light in her dark eyes. Rodolphus, on the other hand, wasn't quite as handsome. He had a wide face with an equally as broad nose. He looked like a Dark Wizard from just watching him.

Bishop wondered how the couple ended up together, it was a classic case of Beauty and the Beast, but then realized it was probably through their mutual love for the Dark Arts and hate of anything not pureblood.

"I've got a lead for you to follow already," said Gawain with a small smile. "The charming couple were last seen in Diagon Alley, heading in the direction of Knockturn Alley, thought that might help."

"It will, thanks," replied Bishop as he continued to look down at the parchment, then gave the two a nod before he turned and began his trek out of the offices. "I'll let you know when I've got them in custody, Mad-Eye."

"I'll be waiting with bated breath," called back Moody with a wry smirk.

* * *

Knockturn Alley was dark and gloomy as always as Bishop made his way down the narrow lane. All the street merchants selling their questionable wares, and the customers perusing them, hastily scurried out of his path, shielding their faces so he wouldn't be able to identify them.

Everyone could sense that the man was an Auror and it would be best if they just stayed out of his way.

Bishop's destination was Borgin and Burke's, a rather dodgy shop further down the Alley. The proprietor, Oliver Borgin, had been suspected of harbouring fugitives before and Bishop thought he might be a good place to start his hunt.

The crooked looking shop was open and Bishop boldly pushed the wooden door aside to step in; he was immediately hit with a faint smell of decomposition, mould and mothballs when he did so.

A short, oily wizard with a bad comb-over of greasy black hair came out from the back when the Auror entered. "Can I help you with something sir?" The man's voice was hesitant, sensing that this new customer probably wasn't here to purchase something.

"Maybe," replied Bishop simply as he walked over to a shelf of Goblin skulls and grimaced as he looked them over. "I'm here to ask if you've seen someone I'm searching for."

"Oh, uh," answered Borgin, a shifty look coming to his eyes, "I've seen a lot of people. Who is it you're looking for?"

The Auror reached into his robes and withdrew the rolled parchment Moody gave him earlier that day and unfurled it, then handed it to Borgin. "Rodolphus Lestrange and his wife Bellatrix; they were last seen in this area."

Borgin eyed the parchment Bishop held out and recoiled from it slightly, as if it were going to give him some disease. "I haven't seen them."

"Really now?" asked Bishop slowly and he re-rolled the parchment, and then slipped it back into his robes. "Why should I believe you?"

"Why shouldn't you?" retorted Borgin hastily. "A lot of people come down this way, and even come into my shop. I can't remember every face that may pass through my door."

"I'm sure you would've remembered these two if they had come in here within the past two days," countered Bishop, losing his friendly tone and took a step towards the smaller man. "They're on the run for torturing two Aurors and are looking at a lifetime stay in Azkaban."

That caused Borgin to close his eyes and he muttered something under his breath. Bishop saw a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on the man's oily forehead. "Those two blasted fools."

Bishop leaned in yet closer to the man. "I take it that you have seen them then."

"Yes," replied Borgin, his voice still quiet, "they came in here yesterday and said they needed a place to hide. I told them I was in enough trouble over that whole Carrow affair, and sent them away."

"You're sure?" pressed Bishop as he stepped yet closer to the Dark Arts dealer.

"Yes! Yes!" replied Borgin sharply as he snapped his dark eyes open to glare at the Auror. "I was told by one of your people, a rather rude man named Dawson, that if I were to get involved with fugitive Death Eaters again, I'd be sent to Azkaban!"

"And you would be," answered Bishop menacingly before he whipped his head away and started to cross the room towards the door, but he stopped his exit and turned back around to Borgin again. "If you see or hear from them, contact the Ministry immediately. I don't want to hear that you've lied to me, Oliver."

"Your humble servant," replied Borgin sarcastically as he gave a little half-bow.

Throwing one more suspicious and untrusting glance at the greasy wizard, Bishop stepped out of the shop and back down Knockturn Alley. So far one of his leads had dried up, but he'd be back to check on the shopkeeper to ensure that he was being completely honest.

It was now time for him to check into his underground network of informants, maybe someone else had seen or heard of the Dark couple.

* * *

For ten long hours Bishop travelled from seedy pub to seedy pub, roughing up or bribing low-life's or other shady characters, shaking loose very little in the way of a solid lead about his quarry. Though, the Auror wasn't getting impatient, he knew this kind of work could take days or weeks or even months.

Bishop was just leaving a dingy little pub called the 'Wand & Sceptre', mentally kicking himself because he should have been home two hours ago to meet Meagan and her sister, when a large tawny owl soared out of the darkening evening sky and landed on his shoulder. The bird immediately began nipping at his ear, signalling that whatever message it bore, it was urgent.

He pulled the small rolled piece of parchment that was attached to the owl's leg and pulled it open so he could read it:

Emergency. Return home immediately.

A frown came over Bishop's face as the large owl flapped its wings and took off back into the twilight sky. This didn't sound like a prank by Meagan to get him home and make him panic because he was late.

He shoved the small bit of paper into his trouser pocket and immediately Apparated back to his home in London.

When Bishop appeared in front of his modest home, he found Alastor Moody and Gawain Robards, the same two men he had met just that morning, waiting for him at the front door. Immediately Bishop wordlessly approached the two Aurors, meaning to bypass them and go into his home.

"Max, wait," said Moody quickly as he placed himself between Bishop and the doorway, his large hands held out before him.

"What is it? What's happened?" asked Bishop urgently as he tried to peer over Moody's shoulder and through the open doorway. "Where's my wife?"

"Max, this is about your wife," replied Gawain softly as he reached out to lay a hand on Bishop's shoulder.

"She's dead, Max," explained Moody softly, his usually gruff voice shaking with suppressed grief.

The world seemed to shrink away as Moody spoke those words and Bishop stumbled back from the wizard, staring at him as if he didn't recognize him.

"Dead? What do you mean dead?" demanded Bishop, his voice rising considerably. "Where's Meagan?"

Moody just sighed and shifted on his wooden leg to move out of the doorway. "She's inside."

Swiftly Bishop swept up the short steps and through the open front door to find that the whole house was dark. He heard a soft sound of crying from the kitchen and immediately made his way towards it.

In the kitchen he found Anne Sheridan, Meagan's younger sister, sitting on the floor, cradling her sister in her lap. There was an unmistakable look of incredible grief on her face as she cried. Meagan was lying limp in her arms.

Bishop froze in the doorway and merely gazed at the sight, trying to convince himself that this was merely a bad dream, and the scene before him wasn't real.

Anne looked up quickly when Bishop entered the kitchen; her eyes were puffy and red, with a deluge of tears soaking her pale cheeks.

"Max! Oh, Max! Meg!" choked the young witch as she continued to rock Meagan in her lap.

Very slowly Bishop approached the two, his eyes fixed on Meagan. The once vibrant woman was now limp and deathly pale, a blank look on her face as she stared unblinking at the ceiling. He knelt down beside the two women and took his wife's hand. It was frighteningly cold to the touch.

"I-I-I-I f-found her j-just h-half an h-hour a-ago," explained Anne in between heavy, grief stricken sobs. "I-I c-called y-your o-office and M-Mad-Eye said he... he'd g-get you."

At that point Bishop wasn't listening to his sister-in-law, all his attention was on his wife, or the body of the woman he once loved. Meagan Bishop was very much dead and he was going to have to face that terrible reality, but didn't want to yet.

"It'll be okay, Anne," comforted Bishop dumbly, reaching out to touch the grieving woman's arm.

Anne leaned over and threw her arms around his neck, her hard crying renewing as she buried her face into his shoulder. Bishop merely stared at the blank face of Meagan still in Anne's lap, a thousand emotions running through his mind.

Footsteps caught his attention and he looked up to see Moody and Gawain step into the kitchen, with two witches behind them dressed in green robes. They were no doubt the Recovery Squad sent to gather the body and take it back to St Mungo's.

"Can... Can you just keep her here for a little while longer?" asked Bishop, his voice barely a whisper as he continued to hold onto the sobbing Anne. He didn't want his wife to be taken away just yet; he wanted to watch her for a little while longer.

"Of course," replied one of the witches as she knelt down beside the two grieving people and put a hand on Anne's shoulder.

Bishop used that distraction to disentangle himself from Anne, since she was now being comforted by the witches who had arrived and were trained to deal with grieving loved ones, and moved to lean over his wife.

He gently stroked her hair, it was still surprisingly silky to the touch, and looked at her face. There was no expression there, just her mouth half open and eyes wide as if she had been startled by something. Slowly he pressed a kiss to her cold brow, fighting back the tears that wanted to now spill from his eyes. A long while he stayed like that, leaning over Meagan's body, his forehead pressed to hers.

Then reluctantly he turned away from the shell that once held Meagan's spirit and rose to his feet. For a moment he didn't know what he wanted to do, he merely stared about the kitchen oddly, forgetting why he was here and what all these people were doing.

Though, again reality hit him and he closed his eyes to force himself to accept it. Meagan was dead.

His knees buckled and he almost fell to the ground from the emotional impact, but he kept himself standing by pure willpower alone.

A strong hand then squeezed his shoulder and Bishop opened his damp eyes to see Mad-Eye standing at his side, peering at him with concern and sympathy.

"Do we..." began Bishop but he lost his voice for a moment, both his mind and body were numb from the shock. "Do we know what happened?"

"No, just what Anne told us when we got here," replied Moody, his voice a hoarse whisper as he watched the two kind witches comforting Anne, a look of intense sadness on his scarred face.

"We do have an eyewitness, a Muggle jogger, that said he saw a man with long silver hair enter the house about forty-five minutes ago," informed Gawain solemnly. "We're still tracking down who that might be."

Immediately all the numbness that Bishop had been experiencing filled with a tense excitement. Doing something, anything at all, was the best thing he could do at the moment. "Where's this jogger now?"

"Outside with the Hit Wizard Squad dispatched when the murder was reported," replied Gawain, motioning to the front door.

Without another word to the two Aurors, Bishop sped from the kitchen and sprinted out of the house. He looked up and down the dark suburban street and saw a small group of three wizards and a witch, with a man in a tracksuit sitting on the curb a few yards away from them.

Bishop ran towards the gathering, his charcoal robes flapping around him, and he skidded to a halt in front of the trio, one of them he instantly recognized as Murphy Johnston.

"Merlin's Beard, Max, I'm so sorry for what happened," said Murphy solemnly, with the same grave expression as his companions had. "Is there anything we can do?"

"The witness, is that him?" asked Bishop very fast, motioning to the fit young man sitting a few yards away, appearing confused and apprehensive.

"That's him," replied Murphy, giving Bishop a curt nod. "He called the Muggle police, but fortunately when he gave your address to the operator, the call was re-routed to us and we responded. He thinks we're from Scotland Yard."

Instantly Bishop stepped past Murphy and the other Hit Wizards and Witch to make his way towards the young man. "You said you saw someone enter the house?"

"What?" asked the man, obviously surprised at Bishop's abrupt and sudden appearance. "Oh, yeah, like I told your mates, I was out jogging by, like I usually do and saw this strange chap enter that house. I've never seen him around this neighbourhood before, so I decided to come by, on my way home, and see if anything was amiss. On my way back, I heard this God awful scream and immediately called the coppers."

"This chap, can you give me a description?" asked Bishop, but it came out more like an urgent demand.

The young man nodded quickly, realizing that this information may be vitally important, which to Bishop, it was. "Oh yeah, like I told those other chaps, the man I saw had a tall, aristocratic look about him, wore this black cloak and had silvery, almost white hair; really odd looking bloke."

Bishop almost grabbed the man's shoulders, but held himself back. "Could you identify him if you saw him again?"

"Oh, yeah, most definitely," replied the witness again, nodding rapidly once more, "I thought it was queer that a chap like that would be in these parts, so I paid extra attention to him."

"You've been a lot of help, thank you," said Bishop and he immediately turned away to walk back to Murphy. "If the Obliviators come by, tell them to fuck right off, I want this man's memory intact until he can give an official statement."

"You know the rules, Max, we can't let the Muggle learn too much about magic, I don't think we can stop any Obliviators if they show up," protested Murphy before he let out a sigh and nodded. "Alright, what should I do if they get persistent?"

"Fucking stun them, I don't give a shit right now, just keep them away from that man back there!" snapped back Bishop as he rapidly passed the trio, all three appearing shocked at the unusually strong use of language from the Auror.

Moody had apparently followed Bishop out of the house and was standing in front of the steps leading to the front door, leaning heavily on his false leg, giving Bishop a concerned look with both eyes.

"What are you thinking, Maxwell?" asked Moody warily.

"The case that Meagan was on deal with someone cursing Muggle car keys to cause their vehicles to explode when they were turned in the ignition," explained Bishop quickly, pausing in front of the older Auror. "Meagan had managed to get a name out of a lead source on the case: Malfoy."

That appeared to catch Moody's attention and his gaze intensified. "We've been after Lucius Malfoy ever since You-Know-Who fell, but we could never nail him as a genuine Death Eater, always said that he was under the Imperius curse."

"Well, I think Meagan had him dead to rights on Muggle baiting and maybe even murder," replied Bishop, anger filling his being now as he stared around the street, "and I think Lucius Malfoy paid a visit tonight and killed Meagan before she could finally nail him."

"That's a mighty big conclusion you're jumping to, Max," said Moody, wary once again as he watched Bishop. "Can any of this be proven?"

"The witness back there said that he could identify Malfoy as the man who last entered the house," said Bishop, looking back at the wizard.

Before Moody could respond, three loud cracks filled the empty suburban street and Bishop turned around to see that a trio of wizards had just Apparated in. One of them approached the young witness, still sitting on the curb, and Murphy moved to intercept him.

A loud argument then erupted between the two groups of wizards and Bishop started to move towards them, meaning to stop the debate and send the newcomers, who were no doubt Obliviators, back to the Ministry.

Suddenly one of the newly arrived wizards aimed his wand at the now standing witness and shouted: "Obliviate!"

Bishop broke into a dead run and charged at the wizard who had just erased the memory of the precious young witness, striking out with a furious fist at the man's jaw.

"You son of a bitch!" shouted Bishop as he watched the robed wizard tumble to the ground, then he found himself immediately seized by the man's two companions.

"What the bloody hell has gotten into you, man! Have you gone mad?!" shouted one of the Obliviators who now held Bishop's arm and kept him from continuing his attack.

"That man was an eyewitness to a fucking murder, you bastard!" screamed Bishop as he fought against the two men holding him.

The man that Bishop just punched pulled himself off the pavement, his hand gingerly touching his struck jaw.

It was Cornelius Fudge himself, Deputy Minister in charge of the Obliviators Department. The podgy junior minister glared with contempt at the still struggling Bishop, blood staining his lip.

"Who in the blazes are you?" demanded Fudge angrily as he once again looked down at the blood on his fingers that he dabbed from his wound. "And who are you to interfere in official Ministry business?"

"Maxwell Bishop, sir!" growled Bishop and stopped his struggling so that the two Obliviators would let him go, he recognized Fudge the moment the man stood up and didn't regret hitting the Deputy Minister in the least. "Member of the Auror's Office and the son of a bitch who just hit you for erasing that Muggle's memory!"

"That Muggle witnessed magical acts and heard magical terms, the standard procedure is to erase his memory before he can cause further contamination," replied Fudge haughtily, "and you tried to interfere with that lawful procedure by striking a Junior Minister! This won't bode too well for you, Mr Bishop, none too well at all!"

"Mister Minister, the woman who was just murdered tonight was the man's wife," explained Moody as he limped up to the confrontation. "Maybe some leeway can be given in this situation for extenuating circumstances."

Fudge took on a magnanimous posture and nodded once to Moody. "Well, if that's the story, then I suppose Mr Bishop's... abrupt behaviour can be excused. I would hope that you and Rufus can control your Aurors better in the future, Alastor."

"How much did Malfoy pay you to come out here and do his clean-up work!?" demanded Bishop, still angry and unafraid of punishment.

This man had just erased any chance of Lucius Malfoy paying for his crimes.

"Well I never!" exclaimed Fudge with shock as he gaped at Bishop, that look turned to outrage. "Alastor, see to your man before he gets himself into anymore trouble!"

With that, Fudge and his companions Apparated away.

"Bloody hell, Max!" growled Moody as he stomped up to Bishop, who was still glowering at the spot Fudge just stood. "Are you looking to get yourself suspended, or worse, sacked?"

"Since when did you give a flying fuck about disciplinary actions, Mad-Eye?" growled Bishop and he spun away from the Auror to start charging down the street at a rapid pace that Moody couldn't bear to keep up.

"Where the bloody hell are you going now!?" shouted Moody.

"If Meagan can't be given justice, I'm getting it for her!" snarled Bishop and he paused just long enough to Apparate away before Moody could respond.

* * *

The Malfoy Manor was dark, save for two windows on the ground floor when Bishop found it finally in Wiltshire and easily broke past the security charms placed on the front gates to the sprawling grounds. He brazenly marched up to the ornate heavy double doors of the large home and pointed his wand at them.

"Alohamora!"

The two doors exploded open from the strength of the spell and Bishop swept past them to enter a large vestibule with a massive candle and crystal chandelier providing light.

As Bishop stormed across the marble floor and towards another set of open doors with light beyond them, a man with long, pale blonde hair dressed in a silken red evening jacket, appeared through those doors with a look of surprise and outrage on his pointed face.

"What's the meaning of this!" demanded the man that Bishop instantly knew to be Lucius Malfoy. "Who in the blazes are you?!"

"Maxwell Bishop," replied the Auror as he made a beeline for the man, his wand coming up to take aim. "You killed my wife tonight, you bastard, and now you're going to confess your crimes or I'm going to turn you into a jelly stain on your fine marble floor."

A look of abject fear passed over the man's face, which quickly became an expression of sneering incomprehension. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now, I suggest you leave my home before I'm forced to defend myself and have you arrested!"

"Then I suggest you start defending yourself," replied Bishop dryly before he unleashed a white jet of light at the man.

Malfoy's eyes widened and he dived to the side; barely avoiding the cutting hex shot at him and began to scramble back into the room he just exited. Bishop followed, undeterred and fired off another curse at the fleeing man.

The room they entered appeared to be some sort of high ceiling sitting room and there was a gentle crackling fire in the hearth bathing the room in its warm orange-yellow light. There was a woman with flaxen blonde hair just standing from a chair and she let out a surprised gasp as she watched her husband scramble into the room.

"What's this, Lucius!?" screamed the woman.

Though Malfoy didn't respond, since he was busy dodging another curse fired at him by Bishop, who ignored the woman and continued his assault.

"Get Draco and get out of here!" shouted Malfoy as he dived for his cane, which was leaning against an armchair.

Wordlessly Bishop just took aim at Malfoy again as the man scrambled to pull something from the top of his cane, and fired off yet another blasting curse.

Again Malfoy threw himself out of the path of the stream of magic, allowing the armchair to take the brunt of the attack. The chair detonated violently once hit, sending padding, wood and upholstery flying in all directions.

"Stupefy!" shouted Malfoy once he drew his wand from his cane and aimed at Bishop, but the Auror merely deflected the stunning curse aside.

"Lucius!" screamed the woman again as she back-pedalled away from the battle, her arms raised before her to shield herself from the flying debris of the exploding chair.

"Go, Narcissa!" shouted Malfoy again while quickly clamouring to his feet.

A numb feeling had taken over Bishop the moment he Apparated away from London and Moody to come here, his first intention had been to get Malfoy to provide a confession to his crime. But once he saw the sneer on the man's arrogant face and that he was spending a quiet, intimate evening with his wife, infuriating anger replaced that numb void.

How dare this man enjoy time with the woman he loved when he just took the life of another woman that same evening, a woman that Max Bishop loved with every inch of his being?

If Bishop couldn't have his wife back, he was going to have his vengeance.

That anger gave Bishop tunnel vision and he didn't even see Narcissa flee from the room, his entire train of thought was focused on the desperate man in front of him.

"Incendio!" exclaimed Bishop as he aimed his wand at Malfoy again.

The man attempted to deflect the streak of flame flying at him, but wasn't quick enough and his entire shoulder became engulfed with fire. The Dark Wizard stumbled back and scrambled to throw his burning evening jacket off of him while tossing another stunning curse at his attacker.

Once again Bishop didn't dodge from the attack, but merely parried it aside. He wasn't going to give this cur the satisfaction of seeing him dodge or run for cover.

Malfoy finally managed to strip his jacket off and tossed it aside while glaring at Bishop. "You won't get away with this, you know! My wife is probably calling for assistance as we speak."

"I don't care," replied Bishop automatically and he unleashed a vicious salvo of spells at his target.

That was almost too much for Malfoy; he managed to deflect the first cutting hex and duck aside from the blasting curse, but the third spell struck him in the side and he was flung across the sitting room, slamming hard into the mahogany panelled wall.

As Malfoy pulled himself off the plush carpet floor, the debris of the small table he crashed onto falling off his back, he watched Bishop cross the sitting towards him, the Auror's step almost mechanical.

"Just tell me why you killed her," said Bishop, his voice deadly soft as he pointed his wand at the man. Unnoticed tears started to fill his eyes as his grief became mixed with rage. "Why did you take her away from me?"

At first Bishop was expecting the man to deny he had anything to do with the murder, but instead he sent a vicious smirk at him. "It was her or me. I decided to save myself from Azkaban. She had gathered enough evidence to put me away and was foolish enough to confront me with it, so I did what had to be done."

The shock of the sudden admission allowed Malfoy to suddenly spring off the floor and swing his wand out towards the dumbstruck Bishop. A stream of blue flame shot from the end of his wand and slammed into the Auror, sending him hurtling back across the room.

Bishop felt his whole being shudder as he flew through the door to the sitting room and landed hard on the marble floor of the vestibule. He skidded a good distance across the smooth floor and came to a stop beside the remnants of the front doors.

A silhouette appeared in the sitting room entry, it was Malfoy and he slowly stepped into the vestibule, his wand trained on Bishop as the man tried to pull himself off the floor.

"It was a shame that I had to kill the poor woman, but she had just got too close to the truth," said Malfoy, apparently confident that he now had the upper hand. "I had thought that perhaps a bribe would put her off the trail, but she refused of course. She left me no choice, really. If you want someone to blame for the unfortunate incident tonight, blame your wife, not me."

That statement just fuelled the ire that was burning deep inside Bishop and he surged off the floor and flung his wand out towards the jeering Malfoy.

A shock of lightning blasted out of the end of Bishop's wand and seared towards Malfoy, who wasn't prepared for such a brutal assault. He attempted to parry it aside, but the powerful spell shattered his shield and ripped into his chest.

The electric-like connection between Bishop's wand and Malfoy's chest didn't cease and Bishop swung his wand around violently towards the plush set of stairs that led up to the second level.

As if lassoed by a rope, Malfoy was flung up through the air and he smashed hard into the stairs, only to be picked up again by the electric cord and hurled across the high ceiling and slammed into the wall.

"Lucius!" screamed a woman and Bishop severed the vicious connection he had with Malfoy, which sent the wizard plummeting to the floor and he landed with a sickening thud.

For a moment, sane reasoning poked through the fog of rage in Bishop's mind, and he watched dumbly as the woman he saw earlier come rushing down the stairs with a child in her arms. She didn't even look at him as she sped to her husband's side and knelt down beside him, the child in her arms screaming wildly.

"Lucius!" called the woman again as she looked at the broken form of her husband, a streak of crimson staining his pale hair. Her blue eyes then moved to Bishop and they held a look of loathing and abject fear in them. "You monster! You come into our home and attack my husband! How dare you!"

Bishop couldn't find the words to respond to the woman, but just felt his anger take hold again as Malfoy stirred. The murderer was still alive.

"Stand aside," commanded Bishop, his voice a cruel whisper.

"What are you going to do?" demanded Narcissa, still cradling her child as she hovered closer to her beaten husband.

"He took the life of my beloved," muttered Bishop, both his steel blue eyes and wand locked onto Malfoy, "and now I'm going to take his life in return; an eye for an eye."

"NO!" screamed Narcissa and she flung herself on top of her husband. The baby only wailed louder.

"Avada..." started Bishop, his wand aimed at the three family members huddled before him.

He had never used the killing curse before, but he was sure that he could manage it tonight, especially with the image of Meagan lying dead on their kitchen floor flashing through his mind every few seconds.

Though, Bishop never got the rest of the spell off. A figure burst through the open front doors and immediately fired a stunning curse at him. Since Bishop was completely unprepared for the attack, the spell hit him in the shoulder and he fell to the ground unconscious, those pictures of his once beautiful wife still swirling around his mind.

* * *

"The man's bloody wife was just killed tonight, Crouch!" exclaimed the gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody from somewhere in the distance.

"That may be so, and I have the deepest sympathies for the man, but he attacked and almost killed one of the most prominent wizards in the country, Alastor!" replied the uptight and precise voice of Barty Crouch Senior, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "That sort of behaviour is completely unacceptable, especially from one of our own Aurors!"

The voices swirled around Bishop as he tried to listen incoherently. He understood that Alastor Moody was in a room with him, arguing with Barty Crouch about something some man had done. Then he realized that the two were arguing about him, and the memory of what he had done that night came back to him.

Slowly Bishop opened his eyes and found that he was chained securely to a large wooden chair in the middle of a stone chamber with a heavy metal door across from him. In front of that door were a group of robed wizards having a heated argument. Bishop instantly recognized the visage of Mad-Eye Moody, his scarred face marred with a deep grimace.

"We had a witness that said he could identify Lucius Malfoy as the last person seen entering the Bishop's residence before the murder happened," said Gawain, a dangerous tone to his voice, "or we did until Fudge showed up and Obliviated the man's effing memory!"

Barty Crouch merely shook his head, his usual stoic face wilted into a sad frown. "Narcissa Malfoy claims that her husband was home with her all evening and didn't leave the house at all."

"Then she's lying," said Bishop quietly, the stunning spell that hit him still caused him to be sluggish with his movements and speech.

All five wizards turned around when Bishop spoke and looked at him. Bishop recognized along with Mad-Eye, some of his other fellow Aurors: Gawain Robards, Jack Proudfoot, and Eric Williamson. Apparently they were all present to argue Bishop's case with Moody against Barty Crouch.

"Can you prove that, Mr Bishop?" asked Crouch, obviously unconvinced.

"I could have," replied Bishop, feeling his ire rise once more, "if that witness didn't have his fucking memory erased!"

Crouch seemed taken aback by the harsh language Bishop employed and the sad frown on his face was replaced with a sour grimace. "I don't believe such crude language is called for, Mr Bishop."

Bishop just stared at Crouch for a long moment, and then did the only thing he could, save for breaking down and crying. He threw his head back and laughed.

"Here my wife's dead and I just tried the murder the bastard that killed her, and you're worried about language! Beautiful! Just fucking beautiful!" shouted Bishop between incredulous laughs.

"The man's gone mad!" declared Crouch, taken aback by the laughter.

"No, Barty, the man's grieving," corrected Moody sadly.

Once the momentary lapse of absurd humour left him, Bishop slumped back into his chair prison and set a questioning look on Crouch, a solemn expression replacing his wide smile. "What's to happen to me now?"

"Now," started Crouch stiffly, "you are to be formally charged with attempted murder, assault and battery, breaking and entering, destruction of private property, and attempt at using an Unforgivable Curse."

"That's all?" replied Bishop. He didn't care anymore, the only thing he regretted was that he wasn't able to finish the mission he had set out that night to accomplish.

The question seemed to cause Crouch to be taken aback, since he jerked his head backwards a moment. "Unless there's something else you'd like to admit to."

"Yeah," replied Bishop, a hard and sardonic tone coming to his voice, "I admit that I regret I didn't finish off that dandy of a ponce bastard before I was stunned." His gaze then moved to the four Aurors standing behind Crouch, all of them held different expressions of sarcastic humour and ironic appreciation. "And whoever did it, good shot. My head's still pounding."

All four Auror's descended into dark chuckles, despite the dire situation for their comrade. Only Aurors would fathom such dark humour.

And since Crouch wasn't an Auror, he merely found Bishop's casual lightsome offensive. "I'm happy to see that you're able to find your situation humorous, Mr Bishop, but I'm sure that humour will fade rather quickly when you face a lengthy sentence in Azkaban."

"Go sit on it," drawled Bishop bitingly, meaning to accompany the comment with a gesture, but with his arms bound to the chair, that was rather difficult at the moment.

That comment seemed too much for Crouch to bear and his face turned a bright shade of red, then he turned and marched from the room, slamming the heavy door behind him.

The small, sardonic smile on Bishop's face faded once the man was gone and he slumped completely in the chair, only held upright by the strong chains wrapped around his chest.

"Well, Max, you're doing a great job of seeing to it that you're booked on the first boat out to Azkaban," commented Moody gravely as he set both eyes on Bishop.

"I don't care," answered Bishop dumbly, the energy to start another sarcastic exchange of banter leaving him.

"For Merlin's sake, stop acting like a bloody Jarvey!" growled Gawain angrily. "Crouch is serious, Max! Lucius Malfoy regained consciousness two hours ago and is demanding that the book be thrown at you!"

"As well as anything else not nailed down at the Ministry," added Jack Proudfoot darkly. Bishop knew the dirty blonde Auror well; the two had worked together when Bishop first started out as an Auror.

"I stopped caring the moment I saw Meagan lying dead on the floor," said Bishop quietly, feeling tears starting to sting at his eyes again, he closed them to hold the tears in a little while longer. He didn't want to start crying in front of his comrades-in-arms.

"Bloody hell," rumbled Moody and he limped towards Bishop, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I doubt that Meagan would want you to give up like this, Max, and what about Anne? You're the only family she has now, I think."

Bishop opened his moist eyes and looked up at the grizzled Auror. He hadn't thought of Anne until just that moment and how she'd be affected by her sister's death. The woman had no family to speak of, her parents having died years ago. Guilt now began to mix with sorrow.

"Damn it all," whispered Bishop as he bowed his head and started to feel ashamed for what he did.

Not because that he almost murdered a man, but because he didn't think of another person who might need him through the grieving process. He let another person who needed him down that night.

And for the first time since he found his wife dead, Maxwell Bishop started crying.

* * *

For five long days Bishop languished in that lonely cell, chained to his chair for most of the stay, only being allowed free use of his hands when food was brought to him by a hunchback Squib. On the sixth day he finally received a visitor.

The heavy iron door creaked open and a figure Bishop had only met a handful of times before stepped into the cell. It was Albus Dumbledore.

Quietly the long, grey bearded man watched Bishop over half-moon spectacles as the Auror stared back, a look of mild surprise on his face. Slowly the legendary wizard stepped further into the room, the door closing behind him with an echoing metallic thud.

"My, my, my," said Dumbledore softly, clicking his tongue with either disappointment or displeasure, "you have really put yourself into it now, Maxwell, haven't you?"

Bishop didn't answer, he merely watched as Dumbledore began a slow pace to and fro in front of him.

"First striking Cornelius Fudge, a Junior Minister, then break and enter, then assault and battery, then attempted murder, finally attempt at employing an Unforgivable Curse. You've occupied yourself with a slew of activity," continued Dumbledore, obviously not bothered by the lack of a response as he paced back and forth, hands behind his back. "Whatever are we going to do with you, Maxwell?"

Finally Bishop got over the initial shock of seeing Dumbledore in his jail cell and answered the man. "I'm assuming throw me in the deepest, darkest hole they can find at Azkaban and fill it in."

An amused twinkle came to the older man's eyes, but it wasn't accompanied by a smile. "Oh, I do believe there are a number of people who would love nothing better than to do just that, especially Barty Crouch and Rufus Scrimgeour. I also believe that Lucius Malfoy is calling for your immediate and expeditious execution. I'm positive that the new law permitting such punishment for your particular crime is being drafted as we speak."

The Auror let out a snort, but he didn't comment on what Lucius Malfoy demanded. "What's to be done with me?"

Dumbledore didn't answer right away; he merely gazed at Bishop intently before he withdrew his wand from his purple robes and waved it before him, causing a plush pine green armchair to appear in front of Bishop. The elder wizard then eased himself into the conjured seat.

"First of all, I would like to offer my deepest condolences on the loss of your wife," started Dumbledore, his voice telling Bishop that he really did feel intense sorrow at Meagan's death. "I remember young Miss Sheridan well from school and she was a very apt student and extremely kind person. She will be sorely missed."

"That she will," replied Bishop quietly.

"Second I would like to inform you that the Wizengamot has been convened for this afternoon to hear your case, and I am to sit on it as Chief Presiding Warlock," continued the Hogwart's Headmaster. "I'm afraid the case against you is very strong. I do not believe you should hope for any verdict other than guilty."

"I figured that the moment I woke up in this cell," said Bishop, his voice still soft and now bitter.

Again Dumbledore fell silent and he gazed at Bishop thoughtfully. "Do you remember when we first met, Maxwell?"

Slowly Bishop nodded, he remembered his first encounter with the legendary wizard well. "I was in my fourth year as an Auror, and you approached me, asking if I'd join that... Order of the Phoenix you were organizing against You-Know-Who."

"And you refused of course, stating that you couldn't divide your loyalties between the Order and the Ministry," finished Dumbledore, an approving tone to his voice. "I commend your ability to remain loyal to your convictions."

"Turned out that you had the right idea," said Bishop ironically.

"Perhaps I did, my mind is rather keen regarding such matters," replied Dumbledore, a light smile playing across his lips, which soon faded. "You are not an evil man, Maxwell, I know that what you did to Lucius Malfoy was driven by pure, unadulterated rage brought on by uncontrollable grief over your wife, whom you apparently loved very much, and you do not deserve to go to Azkaban."

"Not many do," replied Bishop darkly as he shrugged helplessly. "Though, when you break the law, that's where you go."

"True, very true," conceded Dumbledore quietly with a small nod, "but perhaps there is an alternative to prison for you."

"Which is what?" asked Bishop, a confused knit coming to his brow.

"Exile," replied Dumbledore simply. "It's an old form of punishment, not practiced since the early nineteenth century, but I believe it's still considered an acceptable punishment."

"Exile?" echoed Bishop dumbly as he stared at the wizard. A thousand thoughts and feelings hit him as he uttered the word. "I'd be sent away from Britain..."

"And not allowed re-entry on pain of imprisonment," finished Dumbledore gravely.

"Where would I go?" asked Bishop, his voice a whisper as the full impact of the implications of being exiled from his home hit him. "What would I do? I've lived in England all my life. Sure, I've visited France and Spain while on official business, but I never considered myself a travelling man."

"Where you would go is anywhere you'd please, save for your native land," responded Dumbledore matter-of-factly, that dark expression still on his face, "and what you'd do is remain free and away from the clutches of the Dementors the Ministry of Magic has deemed necessary to run Azkaban."

"Why are you doing this for me?" asked Bishop suddenly, the one powerful question hitting him.

"Because, as I said before, you are not an evil man. Throughout the War you remained true to your convictions, even if they didn't coincide with mine, and fought the good fight as best you could," explained Dumbledore. "I've always been of the mind that people like you deserve second chances, and when I can offer them, I take the opportunity."

Bishop just stared at Dumbledore with a dumbfounded look on his face. Twice life offered him a second chance. The first time was when he met Meagan.

Abruptly Dumbledore rose from his chair and it disappeared with a soft pop as the wizard turned to walk back to the door. He paused as he put his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Bishop over his shoulder.

"The boon I offer you comes with a price-tag unfortunately," said Dumbledore earnestly. "Someday I may require your rather unique and vast proficiencies and talents, and may call upon them. If I do this rather magnanimous act on your behalf, will you answer my summons if I should send for you?"

Bishop thought the matter over quickly. If he said no, he'd probably be sent to Azkaban and spend what would feel like an eternity with Dementors sucking the life out of him. On the other hand, if he said yes, he'd at least be free to do as he pleased, save for going home, but be indebted to Albus Dumbledore.

The answer was easy to arrive at.

"Hell, why not?" drawled Bishop before he let out a deep sigh of defeat. "It's not like I have anything to go home to anymore. Lucius Malfoy saw to that."

A sad and almost disappointed veil fell over Dumbledore's face at the answer, but he nodded softly nonetheless.

"I'll see that your wand is returned to you after sentencing, you'll need it to face whatever the world at a whole will throw at you." The wizard opened the door and paused before he stepped outside. "And about the matter of having nothing to return home to, I believe you should consider that particular matter very thoroughly before coming to that conclusion. There's always something waiting for you at home."

And before Bishop could ask what the wise, old wizard meant, he disappeared beyond the heavy iron door and it slammed closed behind him; leaving only questions in his wake.

Probably the way that the barmy old codger liked it, thought Bishop with an ironic smirk coming to his face.

* * *

It did feel like he was going to his execution as Bishop was led out of his holding cell and through the multitude of corridors that spanned the Ministry of Magic in London. Soon he found himself going down hallways he didn't recognize and finally reached a set of tall double doors which were pulled open by Security Trolls when he reached them.

Beyond the doors Bishop found himself in a wooded area, no doubt just outside of London, and that there was a small gathering of people to meet him. In the middle of the clearing was a large carriage and harnessed to it were ten chestnut winged horses, Aethonons from what Bishop could tell by looking at them.

Dumbledore stepped out of the small gathering, donned in the ebony robes as his position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and the one to pronounce sentencing at the brief hearing Bishop had.

"As legally decreed by the Wizengamot assembled to hear the case of one Maxwell Bishop, the accused has been found guilty and has been sentenced to a lifetime exile from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and her colonies," announced Dumbledore, his voice reverberating across the silent meadow. "The sentence will now be executed as ordered."

When Dumbledore stopped speaking the two Security Wizards that kept a hold of Bishop's arms, pushed him towards the open door of the simple grey carriage, waiting to whisk him away from the only land he's ever known.

As Bishop shuffled towards the carriage, since he was shackled, Moody stepped out of the group, a heavy grey dragonskin jacket slung over his arm. There was a sad, disappointed expression on his heavy face. "Hey, Max, you take care of yourself out there. I brought you a little gift from my personal arsenal that might help you during your trips."

The old Auror handed Bishop the long grey coat he carried and stepped back, giving him a nod. "It has the strongest shield charms you can place on a piece of clothing. It should stop most curses from hitting you."

"Thanks, Alastor," answered Bishop gratefully as he took the jacket.

Moody nodded again and limped back to the small gathering. Beyond the Auror, Bishop saw Anne looking at him with an expression of sorrow mixed with some resentment.

He wanted to say something to her, to apologize for leaving her alone after Meagan was found dead... for leaving her alone period. But he couldn't find the words and merely gave her a weak smile, trying to tell her it would be alright with the gesture.

Anne didn't smile back; she just stared at him with an odd look of resentment, regret and anguish in her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked so alone.

That sight was too much for him and Bishop ducked his head down as he climbed into the carriage, the Security Wizards slamming the heavy steel door shut behind him.

As the large prison coach started rocking back and forth when the large Aethonons started to pull it away, then up into the air, Bishop glanced out the small barred window beside him. Below he saw the green English countryside grow smaller as he was taken higher into the sky, and wondered to himself if he'd ever see his homeland again.

Then he closed his eyes and tried to comfort himself with the image of his darling wife, hoping that her memory would see him through the many dark nights ahead of him.

* * *

"Max, are you awake?" asked a soft, familiar voice.

Again Bishop pulled his eyes open slowly and now peered into the face of Anne Sheridan. She did look so much like her older sister, and he marvelled how he had never really noticed that before.

"How are you doing?" asked Anne quietly as she brushed back some hair from his forehead. There was an odd look in her eyes that he'd never seen before either.

"I'm fine, a little sore, but fine," replied Bishop, his voice hoarse and he cleared his throat to strengthen it. "How're the others?"

"Harry was just here a little while ago asking about you. He got discharged from the hospital today. Ron and Hermione are doing just fine, as well," replied Anne, her voice still quiet.

Slowly he nodded and closed his eyes again, remembering the last time he saw Harry, the boy was diving into the dark void he created with Darkness Powder. Ron and Hermione remained in the chamber they all found under the orphanage with him to fight off Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters sent there to meet them.

"I guess I got the worst of it then, eh?" asked Bishop, trying to bring a light edge to his voice but failed.

"That you did, the Healers were just amazed you made it to the hospital alive," replied Anne, her voice still very soft and grave, she paused and asked another question. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" asked Bishop, opening his eyes again to look at her, she appeared much like how she appeared when he boarded the Ministry carriage that whisked him out of Britain fifteen years ago.

"Stayed to fight those Death Eaters instead of following Harry out of that chamber," answered Anne, a bitter sound to the statement. "If it wasn't for that young Auror, Tonks, I think her name was, and me showing up, you'd have been killed."

"Harry needed the time to get out of there and find the Horcrux," explained Bishop. "I'm assuming he did find it?"

"Yes, he found it, after suffering several injuries," said Anne, nodding. "Though, you're not answering my question: Why did you charge at those Death Eaters instead of finding another way out of there?"

Bishop sighed deeply and shook his head, he had always hated repeating himself. "Because, like I just told you..."

"Stuff it, Max, I'm not buying that excuse!" snapped Anne, now angry as she glared down at him. "Hermione told me that several times she tried to get you to leave, but you wouldn't and just yelled at her to leave with Ron and get back to safety."

"The girl didn't understand the situation," countered Bishop weakly.

"She understood, Max. She understood that there was no way she, Ron and you could fight off those Death Eaters alone, and that the best thing to do after Harry was gone was to leave." said Anne, a light scowl on her face. "What she didn't understand is why you refused to leave. Was it because Lucius Malfoy was there?"

"No," answered Bishop quietly once more, "I really didn't think of him at all."

"Then what were you thinking?" demanded Anne. "Were you thinking that maybe that it was yet another fight you could possibly lose and die in, and you'd get to see her again?"

Bishop's jaw squared as she struck a nerve and he averted his gaze so she couldn't see how close to the truth she got.

Though, that simple movement gave Anne all the answers she needed and she put a hand on his cheek to turn his eyes back to her. "Meg wouldn't want you to throw your life away out of some unresolved grief you have for her, Max. You should know that."

His mouth twitched as he gazed back up into her eyes, which had now taken a softer look. "It's not just that."

"What else is it then?" asked Anne, her hand still on his cheek.

"Maybe I deserve to be hurt for what I did, for leaving you when you needed what family you had left." There, he said it finally, after fifteen years the truth was out.

"So that's what all this is about? You feel guilty for going off and trying to kill Lucius Malfoy and getting yourself exiled instead of being there for me when I grieved for my sister?" Her eyes started to glisten as she watched him, an almost disbelieving look on her face.

"I've messed up so much in my life. Not being there for you, not doing enough to keep Meagan alive, not acting quick enough when my partner James died. For acting careless and like I could do anything and thinking the same. For almost murdering a defenceless mother and her child. All I can do is this one last thing to try and redeem myself," explained Bishop as he too felt his own eyes moisten. "Though, sometimes I don't feel like it's worth trying to saving me anymore."

Anne didn't respond right away and just watched him, her fingers beginning to stroke his cheek. "Dumbledore came to me after you were taken away and told me what you said to him before he left your cell. Through the years I tried to show you that you weren't alone either, but you would never let me in."

"I didn't think I was worth it."

"I do," she answered and leaned closer down to him. "You're a kind and loving man, if not a pain in the arse sometimes. I saw how much you loved Meg and what you went through when she died. I wanted to be there for you as much as you me, though never got the chance. Let me be here for you now."

His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes yet again, but this time to push back the emotions threatening to spill out. Suddenly he didn't feel alone anymore.

As he felt her hair tickle across his cheek when she leaned down even closer to his face, a wry smile curled his lips and a comment popped into his mind that he couldn't resist uttering.

"What about Brian?"

"Shut up you prat." She then finally kissed him tenderly.

And as he kissed her back he remembered what Dumbledore said all those years ago. That there were such things as second chances, even third or fourth chances if you're damned lucky, and that even if you don't realize it at the time... There's always something, or someone, to come home to...