Disclaimer: I own nothing of Jo Rowling's; I just use her already wonderfully written works to let my imagination run on how things would have been.

Chapter Summary: Your first short look at Xantos Potter...

A/N: Haha, I've finally updated this story! I could've updated sooner but then it would've spoiled the surprise for my dear 'Prongslet' Readers, lol. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Xantos Potter

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Days later, two weeks before school was to start, James and his parents were to be seen in the dining room, just finishing lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were pleasantly chatting about the going-ons of that day, catching each other up. They did technically work at the same place, but it had been so busy lately that they had hardly seen each other. James, quite unlike his parents, was sulkily poking his food with his fork, elbow on the table, chin resting glumly on his hand.

"Come on, son, it's not the end of the world," chuckled Harold Potter once he took note of the depressed look on his son's face.

"Easy for you to say, Dad…" James replied begrudgingly, not looking up from his plate.

The reason for why the normally boisterous and bright young Potter was so downtrodden could be traced back to one single incident. The Potter's house had charms on it so as to make all magic within it undetectable, this being the case, James had taken the opportunity to try out his new wand…against his mother's wishes.

Needless to say, James, while having memorized many different hexes and jinxes, was still only an eleven year old with no magical practice under his belt…and only a basic idea of how a wand worked. As such, in his attempt to perform some magic, the Potter heir accidentally caused an explosion in the attic that shook the whole house in turn. Mary Potter, to say the least, had been exasperated by the ordeal and could have done a little less with her son's foolish antics. She confiscated his wand and prank supplies, and then grounded him from them for the rest of the week. Hence the reason for James' sullenness. Mrs. Potter thought hours after the incident that she might have been a bit harsh on her young boy…he had not meant to blow up the attic, after all, but…she also knew that it was things like this that might just teach James a lesson.

"Now, dear, it's only week," she reminded comfortingly…she could never stay mad at him for long. And really the only reason she had been upset in the first place was because he could have hurt himself, which had been her worry when she had first heard the explosion. James sighed.

"I know…but…" the messy haired boy pleaded.

"No 'buts', James Potter, I told you not to mess around with that wand until you knew how. It is not a toy," Mrs. Potter cut him off pointedly.

"Okay…" James sighed again. Minutes passed in silence as they ate before James spoke up once more.

"How about if I never…"

"No."

Needless to say, James was bored the rest of the day, and made it a point to stay up in his room and do nothing but play with his practice Snitch that his father had gotten him for his birthday.

Harold Potter had returned to the Auror office, because unlike Mrs. Potter he did not have the day off. Mary Potter kissed her husband goodbye then went to tend to her cherished garden with the aid of the Potters' two houses elves, twins Pixie and Penny.

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-Hours later-

Mrs. Potter paced the sitting room, worry beginning to consume her. It was late and her husband had yet to return home...he had never been out this late for work. She tried her best to remain calm, but Mr. Potter had not even Owled that he would be late, which was extremely odd. By two in the morning, she was thinking the worst had occurred.

Harry… she thought to herself, biting her lip slightly.

James, who had finally gotten over the fact that he was doomed to a week of boredom, padded downstairs, donned in his Quidditch pajamas wanting to get a late night snack. Pixie and Penny had offered him something much earlier, but he had still been sulking then… He definitely regretted that now.

The Potter heir entered the sitting room with a yawn, bringing a hand up to stifle it before running it tiredly through his mess of hair. It took him a few seconds to notice his mother now sitting on the couch looking lost in thought.

Whoa, she's never up this late, was the first thought to enter his head.

"Mum?"

No answer.

"…Mum?" he persisted, padding over and moving to sit down next to her. Startled she looked over at him. Her sapphire blues meeting his uncertain hazel.

"James…" she whispered so softly and with so much affection, out of nowhere almost, that James was taken aback somewhat. Before he knew it she was hugging him tightly and he could do nothing but hug her as well.

"I love you," she told him, emotion evident in her voice.

"…I…I love you too, Mum…"

She held onto him for a few good beats, as if needing it, before finally releasing him, wiping her eyes of stray tears.

"Mum…what's wrong?" James asked concernedly.

"Just me being my worry-wart self," she informed him with a forced chuckle that was meant to reassure herself as much as her son.

"Dad's not home," James concluded sadly. Mrs. Potter nodded and could not help but marvel at how much her son had grown and come to know her so well over these past eleven years. He really was so much like his father… He really was her world; she often wondered how she had gotten on for so much of her life without ever having had him.

To the relief of both occupants of the couch, the front door opened to reveal a worn-out Mr. Potter. His eyes were red as though he had been crying. Mrs. Potter was up in a flash, and was at her husband's side just as quickly, bringing the slightly shaky man over to the couch to sit down.

"Harry…Harry what happened?" she inquired worriedly…he looked about ready to break down where he sat.

"Death Eaters attacked, Mary," Mr. Potter stated, eyes shinning with newfound tears. Death Eaters, apparently the name of those following the rising Dark Wizard of the times, had been attacking more and more often lately, so it was obvious that that was not the full reason for her husband's clear anguish.

"Oh, Harold…who?" Mrs. Potter knew it was 'the who' that was killing her husband emotionally. There could be no other explanation for it.

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you…I didn't want you to have to see me like this…"

"Don't mind that! I could've been there for you, I love you…"

James' mind was reeling with thoughts as his parents embraced and Mrs. Potter comforted her husband.

Who could've died, why would it affect Dad like this?

"Kevin, Mary…they killed Kevin and his wife," Mr. Potter said painfully. Mrs. Potter gasped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, shaking her head once.

"Your brother?"

He nodded in response then looked at the ceiling to try and prevent more tears from falling. Mrs. Potter's eyes brimmed with tears. Kevin and Harold had been very close, but they had not been in contact for the past few years…and now this happens.

"They were looking for us, I'm sure, they were looking for… Well, you know…but he wouldn't tell…so…they killed him."

"What about their kids?"

"…Their younger one, their daughter Brianna was killed…but their son got away."

James felt it was high time to make his presence known as he had just been sitting there, listening and watching this conversation take place in silence.

"Xantos…? Xantos is alive?" he demanded to know, this was all killing him. His Uncle Kevin's family were the last remaining Potter's other than James and his parents. Mr. Potter glanced over at James for the first time since he had gotten home…he had not seen him.

"Son…" Harold murmured uncertainly.

"No, if he's alive, where is he?"

"…We couldn't find him."

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James lay in his bed at five in the morning, unable to get any sleep. He had cried once he had been sent up to his room, which was something he was not prone to doing. The last time James had seen Xantos and his parents were when the two boys were eight. They had been close friends since they were toddlers almost and James could not believe that he was now…gone. If Xantos could not be found that only meant one of two things. Either he was dead somewhere…or alive, but only Merlin knew where. James closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

It took him a few seconds to realize there was a tapping noise coming from his window.

"James! James get up!" came the distant voice. The Potter heir's eyes snapped open and he quickly scrambled out of bed and ran to the window, opening it. Sitting on a broom outside the window was the tousled, harried looking, dark golden-brown haired Xantos.

"Xantos…You're okay!" said James in amazement. The hazel eyed boy outside the house smiled sadly.

"How…where…when…why?" was all James could ask as he helped Xantos in through the window, he wanted to know the whole story.

"Jaime…"

"…Yeah?" …Merlin, he had not been called that in forever.

"Can…we not talk about it right now?"

"I…erm, sure, mate. …We'll figure everything out later."

"Thanks…I knew you'd understand."

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A/N: There you go, the answer to that annoying question of who is Xantos (How could this be the man from chapter 17 in Prongslet? Well, this story will get around to explaining all of those little mysteries that can't be explained in the other.) How'd you like it? Good, bad? Let me know so that I don't discontinue this. I'll see when I can try and update, but it might be another little while as my main focus right now is on 'Prongslet.' Thanks to my 4 reviewers for reviewing, I love you guys! Lol. Untill next time…