New Dawn

Chapter 01- Meeting Destiny

A/N: This is an idea I had for a one-shot and it took on a mind of it's on. I already have a sequel written for it. In fact, I started the sequel around the same time I was writing chapter four of this. In this story, Sirius is dead. Dumbledore is alive. Nothing happened 6th year. Also, no Horcruxes.

Summary: Harry gets some much needed advice and decides to take a new look on life. Harry Potter/ Tracey Davis. Starts Pre-7th year and goes beyond.

A/N 2: I've edited the first four chapters and changed things from how they were a little bit. Nothing major but enough to warrant a repost of it. Should have the fifth chapter out soon. After that, there should be one or two more chapters left before this part is done. I've already started part 2 and three chapters written.

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Somewhere outside Surrey, England

If one was to look at the young man sitting on the park bench early in the morning, they would see someone who looked as if he had the world on his shoulders. And they would be correct to a point. Up until this day, his problems had been only adding to his troubles. They seemed to grow every year. But all of that was about to be in the past. For today was the day that his world was about to change. For better or worse, it remained to be seen.

"Kid, what's got you out here so early in the morning? No one from your generation gets up this early without a reason," a voice said from Harry's left. "You're not up to something are you?"

Looking up, Harry saw an older gentleman standing next to him. "It's nothing. I've just got a lot on my mind at the moment. I just need a place to think." In reality, he had grown to expect that kind of reaction from people towards him after living with the Dursleys.

Though, that didn't make what he said not true. He couldn't help but think back to what had happened in his sort return to the Wizarding World. After losing the only thing that he could remotely call family, he was forced to return to the Dursleys who belittled him. And it didn't end there as one might think. After finally being allowed to escape and return to school, he was forced to endure an entire year of ridicule at the hands of his peers.

For once, Voldemort chose to keep a low profile after the fiasco at the Ministry. It seemed that he was too weakened after the fight to push his plans and he didn't trust his own people to handle them for him. Dumbledore didn't do anything to curb the media, so he didn't even bother asking for help on that front after the first time. He said it would help build experience for the future.

"No kidding, Sherlock." the man chuckled. "You look like you have a lot going on in that head. Be careful, thinking too hard isn't good for you. You overlook things when you don't take the time to slowly go over them. Mind if I sit down?"

Not particularly caring if the man was a Death Eater, he shrugged. "Sure, go ahead. It's a free bench. Or at least it was the last time I checked."

After a long pause, "Kid…"

"Harry," he interrupted. "My name is Harry. I'm not that fond of nicknames."

"Nice to meet you, Harry," he replied cheerfully. "I'm Brigadier John Cook. Formerly of His Majesty's Armed forces."

"Listen…" Harry started to say. He really didn't mind the man sitting there, but he did want some peace and quiet.

"How about you tell me what's bothering you and I'll see if I can confer some wisdom from my life experiences. I have lived a long life and I'm sure that I've picked up something that could be of use. If not, at least I get to hear a good story. It's not often that I get to hear any new stories nowadays."

Harry was conflicted at this. He could edit some details and tell the man his problems or he could just get up and walk away. After thinking it over for a few seconds, he decided to go ahead and tell the man an edited version. Everyone else thought they knew what was best for him. It was time that he did what he thought was best.

"I'll understand if you don't want…" Cook said, noticing the look on Harry's face.

"No," Harry said, straightening up. "I do need advice or at least a sounding board. This'll be good for me. I hope."

"Go ahead," Cook said. "I'm all ears."

"Well, I've kinda got this man after me. He killed my parents when I was little and is now after me. I lost my godfather a while back. He was trying to protect me when he was killed."

"A man," Cook mused as he stroked his chin in thought. "Shouldn't be too hard for the constables to handle. Even if they couldn't handle him, I'm sure the Yard could. What makes this man any different than your common criminal?"

"He's got followers, a small army," Harry said. "They follow him fanatically, killing all who don't meet their bigoted views. That was how my parents were killed. They refused to join him."

"Kind of sounds like the Mafia is after you," Cook said. "I take it that you would have bodyguards then? Or at least you should have some."

"I gave them the slip. It was getting too much to handle, so I left. Plus, what they thought was best for me didn't always meet up with what was best for me."

"Running away, are we?"

"No, I just need time to think. Once I'm done, I'll head back and face him. As much as I would love to just walk away from it all, I know he'll never let me. And I know that I would never be able to let myself walk away."

"Now that's more like it," Cook smiled. "A challenge is more interesting when your life is really on the line. Some of the most interesting times in my life were when we were outnumbered in the wilderness. Me and my mates had to fend off countless charges by the natives."

Harry just looked at the man like he was crazy. "Anyway, after my parents were killed, I was taken and hidden for my protection. I never even knew my own heritage until I turned eleven. After I arrived at school, it seemed that my life was only complicated further. Up until then, I only had to deal with my aunt and uncle. At least they never tried to kill me. It was only recently that I learned that most of what happened at school was tests to ensure I followed the right path."

"And what is the right path?"

"Whatever path my Headmaster chose for me. He was the one to place me in protective custody. He was the one to keep me ignorant. He was the one to keep me isolated."

"But yet you still survived," Cook said, appraisingly. He didn't bother to mention that it was odd that a headmaster was in charge of placing someone in protective custody. He'd seen stranger things in his life. "It seems that you have lady luck on your side. She's a fine one to have watching your back. Not many can come out of what you have and still retain their sanity. I've seen many good soldiers survive war but forget to live."

"How can you survive yet not live," Harry asked curiously.

"You forget why you are fighting," Cook said, sadly. "It doesn't matter what you believe in, only that you believe in something. It can be something completely different than your fellow soldiers. Just as long as you believe, you have a reason to fight."

"I think I understand," Harry said.

"I'm sure that you do." After a long pause, "I take it that you plan on going after this man?"

"What? How?" Harry stuttered. "What makes you think that?"

Shooting Harry a look, "A killer knows a killer."

"I'm not a killer," Harry said, alarmed. That was one thing he was afraid of being labeled. He was already being called dark. He didn't need to add anything worse to his name.

"Don't give me that, boy," he growled. "What are you going to do? Dance 'em to death? In the end, it will just be the two of you. Two will go in, and only one will come out. How you choose to face him and what you use will determine who walks away from the fight."

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead," Harry said. "Everyone expects me to defeat him without killing him and his men. I don't see how that's possible."

"It isn't. If you don't kill them, they'll kill you."

"I understand but it doesn't make it any easier," Harry said. "And what did you mean when you said a killer knows a killer?"

"I'm a solider. I fought in the war and killed quite a few men."

"So," Harry said. "You were doing your duty. It was your job to kill them so they couldn't come over here and kill us."

"Exactly," Cook smiled. "It was my duty. But it wasn't seen that way by everyone who stayed behind. We were hailed as heroes and welcomed with open arms. At least until the reports started coming back from the front. Once that happened, the people realized that we killed other men. While they didn't exile us to the fringes of society, we were looked upon with a small bit of fear. They wanted to keep us locked away behind a glass panel that said open only in case of war."

"How did you live with everyone hating you?"

"Fearing me, not hating," Cook corrected. "They feared us because we did what they couldn't. And I lived because I knew that what I did was the right thing. It allowed my parents and siblings to live. I also had my wife. She kept me grounded in reality and focused on the future instead of worrying about the past."

"What happened to her," Harry asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I lost her fifteen years ago. She meant the world to me and I nearly lost it when she passed away."

"Was she kill…"

"Killed? No lad, she passed away in her sleep. I just wait out my final days before I can join her once again."

"I do have one question," Harry said. "What about experience? He's has trained himself over the years to attain the position he now holds. What hope do I have of beating him?"

"Experience isn't everything," Cook said. "In fact, it could be that experience that allows you to beat him."

"How so?"

"If he has lived this long without being killed, then he should be slightly arrogant. It is what most men in his position become. They think themselves invincible. He'll make a mistake and when he does, you act on it. Take full advantage and deal him the final blow. Many powerful men have fallen when facing opponents not as skilled as them. That doesn't mean you can get arrogant yourself."

"Thank you," Harry said as he got up. "This conversation has helped me greatly. It has showed me that I have a chance of a future."

"Going back to your friends and bodyguards now?" Cook asked as he stood up also.

"No," Harry smiled as he looked at the dawn of a new day. A plan was already forming in his head. One that would chance everything. "I think I'm going to take a walk to the bus station and visit London. There are some people there that might want to hear what I have to say."

"Good luck, kid," Cook said as he shook his hand. "If any of those old men in uniforms give you any problems, tell 'em that Brigadier John Cook, 5th Infantry Division, sent you. That should get some of those old duffs listening to you."

"Thanks again," Harry said.

"It was my pleasure. Just remember one thing."

"What?"

"When this is all over, I want to hear about it. I expect some great stories. The boys down at the lodge will enjoy hearing about the younger generation carrying on the good fight."

"I promise," Harry smiled. "You've given me a new look on life."

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End Chapter 01

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Edited on 04-02-11