Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the song "Tiempo de Vals", those works soley belong to J.K. Rowling and Chayanne.

Edited: 12 Novemeber 2011 - So I added some scenes, made it a little a longer. If it seems a little rushed, it is supposed be like that. Enjoy, hope you like the edited version better. :D

WARNING: This starts off as a dark fic that will eventually, with time, end on the lighter side of things. So if you are soft hearted then this not a fic for you. You have been warned. Don't expect the Romance to start off just yet either, it will take some time. Bare with me, if you feel this is too much drop at anytime. It won't hurt my feelings as I understand. Thank you for your patience.


Tiempo de Vals*

By: Acedia's Apathetic Simplicity


Prologue: Petunia's Choice

"YOU STUPID BOY!"

The loud boom voice was followed by a resounding smack that had her hands shaking slightly as she peeled a potato. The little snot deserves it, she thought to herself. Maybe if she truly believed that the boy deserved then the guilt weighing her down will be lifted but she knew better then that. She jumped a little at the loud thump of a body being thrown harshly inside the cupboard under the stairs. The queasy churning in her stomach wouldn't be contained for much longer if this continued. Petunia wondered what the boy had done wrong today.

Shame reigned down her soul. The boy hadn't anything wrong today, so why was he being punished? Was this just sport for her husband, a way to pent out his frustrations on a defenseless child?

This is wrong, a small voice in the back of her head whispered gently. This is so very wrong, on so many levels, the voice whispered again. Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! The pairing knife held tightly in her hand shook, this wasn't the life she wanted. It was supposed to be filled with laughter, simple nonsensical things with the perfect husband and son. It wasn't supposed to be too irrationally perfect, and it certainly did not involve the abuse of an orphaned child that held no control over things that happened to him. But he was just so unnatural and most of things that happened around him accidental as they may be frightened her. What if something accidental became some catastrophic? No, the child had to be reigned down upon so he will understand that it wasn't normal and such things should not be encouraged. People could get hurt, at least that's how she saw it but now she just can't help but think that logic was somewhat twisted. There could have been another way to handle it.

She couldn't help but bite down on her lip in disgust as her husbands meaty arms wrapped around her waist and murmured provocative words to her on what was to come when he returned home from work. She stiffened slightly as he kissed her neck before he left. Petunia stood there stiff for a full ten maybe fifteen minutes, the small peeling knife frozen above the already peeled potato. She shook herself out of her reverie and quickly looked under the sink to fetch the hidden med kit she had kept hidden away for these propose only. She pulled out the aspirin bottle where she retrieved a single pill which she crushed into a fine powder and missed it with a glass of orange juice. With purposeful steps Petunia opened the small door of the musty smelling cupboard. The boy was curled up on the small mattress; he looked up at her not in fear or hate but with love and hope. Guilt twisted violently in her gut; the boy thought too much of her. Petunia gently pulled the boy to his feet by his (not bruised) right arm and took to the kitchen where the glass of orange juice was waiting for him. She knew it wasn't healthy to be giving him a full pill rather then a half a pill she would give to her Dudley, but she didn't how else to help him ease the pain he was enduring.

She sat down the boy on a kitchen chair and started to meticulously disinfect the cuts and nasty looking scrapes. She wrapped bandages around the bigger scrapes and cuts. While doing this Petunia sensed that she was being stared, the boy was still staring at her those damnable loving hopeful eyes of his. Almost as if asking, do you love me like Dudley? She shoved the glass into the boys hands, and the boy looked at her with wide eyes when she had given him the orange liquid, "Don't look at me like that," she snapped only to want to turn back time when the boy looked down shamefully, "Just drink it." She said a little more gently.

She stood up stiffly to retrieve the boy's meal. "Here," Petunia said barely managing not to slam the plate on the table. It was left over beef stew from the night before. "Don't eat too quickly, I don't want to have to clean up your vomit," she murmured to him. The boy nodded eagerly before showing her how famished he truly was without causing much of a mess. She was being nicer to him today, she wondered why. Was it because as a mother she can't help but to want to nurture a tortured child in need of attention? No, that wasn't it; Petunia could not bring herself to look at the malnourished child any longer.

Dread and despair rammed into her at full force, he wasn't going to make it to eight. If things turned out the way they were he will die. She could ask—no! She wasn't going to allow that bastard to ruin her little boys' mind like he did her sister.

An idea had been lurking in her mind for awhile now, she had decided two days ago that today she will enact on it. No more backing out at the last minute, she couldn't hold this boy's life in jeopardy any longer. "Boy, there's a black bag in the cleaning supplies closet. Go get it," she ordered him just as he finished his meal. The boy ran as fast as his little legs could take him to retrieve the item she ordered him to get. While he did this she took out to hidden envelopes in the med kit, one was thin and the other thick. The boy came scampering back just as she putting the dirty dishes in the sink, the boy handed her with a bit trouble the bag. Inside, not that he knew, held all the basic necessities to keep a child alive long enough for some one to pick him up. She rummaged through the bag until she found a much too big sweater and handed it to him, "Put this on."

Not too long ago, Vernon had rented a car for a family outing that they never got around to doing, she had managed to get a hold of those keys. The car was to be returned by Saturday (today), the trunk was already full with some of her own and Dudley's clothes. She stuffed the thick envelope inside the bag before shoving it into the boy's arms while placing the thin letter onto the impeccably clean table, "Follow me." Petunia walked quickly out the front door to the parked car. The boy just stood there watching her get inside the car while he held onto the bag she had handed to him. Annoyed she snapped at him to get inside rather harshly.

Now to get Dudley from preschool…

Hours later the hum from the cars' engine was the only thing that filled the silence in the car. She looked at the rearview mirror and saw a no cars behind them, just an empty darkened road threatening to sallow them whole. It was already two in the morning. By now Vernon would be have already arrived seen the letter and notice the disappearance of the rental car and his family. He would have notified the authorities by know. She squeezed her eyes shut for moment, her heart pound so loudly in her ears. When she opened her eyes she took a chance to glance back at the rearview mirror, her eyes piercing and taking in all the details of the two children sitting in the back.

She couldn't go through with it.

She just can't.

In the back of the car Dudley was sound asleep snoring softly, next to him was the little snot sitting erect with wide eyes hugging the bag for dear life. He looked so scared like he knew something was going to happen or that something was wrong. Those green eyes looked so wide and innocent, so much like Lily. Petunia grimaced and returned to staring at the front, the road continued on and on with no end to it at all, the trees on the side of road were almost a blur turning into something unreal, foreign, freakish. Was this a warning that she should not do what she was going to do?

After half an hour later Petunia parked at the side of the road, the time was 3:15. The boy whimpered slightly when her gaze landed on him, suddenly he wasn't looking so hopeful and loving. Instead there was only fear and resignation, "Get out."

He didn't move.

"Now!" She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. The boy scrambled out of the car, she followed him outside without such dramatics. That was another thing that bothered her that left her feeling uneasy, he never spoke but yet had lungs to cry out in pain, cry, whimper, and sob so there was no questioning whether he could speak or not, he just chose not to. The boy hugged the bag close to his chest so tightly she could see the white on the knuckles. She got down on her knees, face slightly pinched, and placed both hands on his shoulders gripping tightly. She knew it was wrong what she was about to do.

"I don't like you or your kind; I hate the fact that you were forced upon me to raise you without permission on my part. I had a family barely starting and was happy…but I chose to pick you up from that basket and take the responsibility because you were my blood and just a baby. We were family. I was mother and as mother I could not let you freeze outside in a cold October or drop you off in some unknown orphanage that could have the possibilities of being abusive," she liked her dry lips, oh the irony. It was wrong. "I protected you from the worst as much as I could. After what happened two months ago, I realized my husband wasn't the same man I once loved. I realized that I could no longer provide that safety that I tried so hard to give you. I realized a lot of things that even I can't name them all."

"Don't cry, mummy," a small hand wiped the tears that had started to stream down her cheeks. She froze as did the hand touching her face. He spoke, it sounded so small and hoarse.

It was so very wrong.

Just this once, she stiffly held onto the child giving him all the warmth she could offer him here in this cold night. She held him so tightly, she wasn't his mother. She shouldn't be doing this. How did it come to this? How did she start to see him in that light? She didn't want to do this.

Abandonment, that's what this was.

"If you are destined to live then you will live. If you really were meant to be special then you will survive," she murmured to his ear as she unwrapped herself from him even as he clung onto her begging to not be let go of and stood staring down at him, she held herself back from saying comebacktome. "If you keep walking forward there should be a city there." She got back inside the car, starting the engine with trembling fingers she drove off making a U-turn to return to Vernon. She didn't once look back even though she really wanted to. Petunia knew if she did she would take the child with her and that was not an option.

Had she looked, she would have seen the child start running after her until he tripped and landed hard on the cold unforgiving dirtied road.

"…I'll find you." The child promised to the red taillights of the car disappearing into a black abyss.

It was so very wrong to have abandoned the child the way she did. How could she abandon a child just barely seven years old? The boy would suffer more but be blessed to not suffer the wrath that his dear Aunt would receive when she'd return for the years to come with her husband. The consequences to this action would cause the unfortunately nameless—for him since he had no prior knowledge to his own name—child to be damaged in a way that would cause a deep obsession that would be considered borderline crazy to some and leave him broken in many ways.

It was so very wrong.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be, so many things would go differently do to Petunia's choice. Maybe for the better.


*Tiempo de Vals means Waltz Time.

A/N: Review and tell me what you think. Critics are more then welcomed and very much appreciated accept maybe flamers, I will ignore you or put you on blast!