Unsorted
The pensieve stood on a shelf deep inside the cave, which was the last refuge of the late dark Lord himself. On its lid was a little note which read 'my failure'. Harry Potter, tired and languid, took the stone bassin to Hogwarts. He felt ill and weak so he was in no shape to give in to his natural curiosity, but then again...
In the evening of the other day he dived into the thoughts of the deceased dark Lord to find out, what the Lords 'failure' may have been.
He stood in a dark forest in the rain. 'Must be the forbidden one near Hogwarts.' His eyes roamed over the bottom of the forest in search for seldom plants, which only bloom in this special night. The sound of the falling rain muffles all noises, but the dark Lord hears a little rustle and also a soft sob coming from behind.
As he turns around he sees in the pale light of his wand a small wet bundle, which stands in the next moment to hex him with a wasp sting curse."Ouch!" he cries disgusted, only to find himself on the receiving end of a string of several nasty hexes in a really optimal order. "Come on! Come on!" he shouts and is hopping and running out of the way. "I'm not after you, you see!". Finally he opts for offensive and grips the aggressor with his hands.
It's a child. A bloody little weak child, who chased the dark Lord through the forest like a rabbit. He grabs the boy and apparates into his hut.
He let him down and takes a good look at him. Really a kid. Not one of them who you pat on the head or give secretly sweets, no its a kind of child, who you wave away impatiently when it stands near you anywhere, because you think it steals. The uniform had no less than three previous owners. He is small, pale and skinny. Insufficient sun, food and love.
They look at eachother lurking. "Well." said Tom Riddle. "Shouldn't you be in your luxury Hogwarts bed at that time of day?" The Boy shruggs. "Ain't gonna go." he answers as a matter of fact. "What?" asked Tom Riddle back, puzzled. "Look, Hogwarts is full of kids". comes the answer, spat out as if it was a disease. "To noisy, to silly. Thought I could learn something, but."
"Well what do you hope to learn?" Tom asked, but is not sure if he's want to know. "Look out!"
The boy tooks his wand and looks around searching. Then he points at the wall, where fly sits. He exclaims: "Imperio musca." The fly comes over and lands on his dirty finger, stands on her hind legs and waves the front in the air while it hums a real strange version of 'Amazing Grace'.
The dark Lord is impressed. He's seen a lot during his journey from light to dark, but nearly never anything that - obscene. The boy shows a demonic grin and asks: "See?".
Tom Riddle nods. "Who's your daddy?"
The boy thinks over it and answers: "You mean my father?" "Thats Septimius Casus Snape." Tom is astonished. "He has a child?" "For ten years now." is the answer. Ah, a logical one. This Snape must be a real nasty idiot. Doesn't care much more for his child than for a house-elf. The boy had a haircut for his first day in school, with a pot as template. Oh my! This kind would be better off in the orphanage, really. Tom Riddle feels a little pang right there where once his heart was. Strange.
"Well, lets dry your clothes and get something to eat. What do you like?" The boy looks at him as if he thinks the man is mad. "What does that mean? What I like?". Tom Riddle answers impatiently "To eat, boy!" "Oh, gruel". What? No child in the whole wide world likes gruel to eat! "Well, one man's meat is another man's poison." he murmurs and gets the self-cooking kettle from the shelf.
"Gruel." he orders with firm voice and decides for strawberry topping.
That is watched with critical eyes. "What's that?". Tom Riddle sighs aloud this time. "Strawberries." her explains with admirably patience. "erm, Sir, I simply cannot..." whispers the little One abashed. "I see." murmurs the dark Lord.
He has a suspicion already and lays his hand on the stomache of the boy. "Here?" The boy nods nonplussed. "Ah, let me repair it. I'm the greatest dark magician around, do you know?" This earns him an unbelievingly flash from that belladonna-eyes and a soft: "Really? Lord Voldemort?" Riddle nods. "It's allright then." Riddle chants the incantation for the repair: "Restituto stomakdoloro!". The boy coughs heavily and finally chokes out a little blue frog, which changes into a small silver coin at the time it hits the ground.
"See? That's why you have to go to Hogwarts and learn such things." Riddle declairs patronizing. The boy doesn't listen, but shoves the strawberries into his mouth. Meanwhile an expression of delight appears on his face and as he closes his eyes in a moment of bliss, he looks just like a real child.
"Which house are you sorted in?" Tom Riddle asks eventually. "Dunno." is the answer. "Run away before that. The Lady didn't look and I scooted straight through the legs of that giant. Nobody noticed, or cared."
Tom laughs. Serves them right, Muggel lovers! "What are you going to do now?" The boy looks around and asks keenly "Do you need a helpmate, perhaps?" Riddle shakes his head no. "Not without OWLs and NEWTs." he makes his point clear. "I'll bring you back in the morning. No talking back!"
The boy hangs his head, but raises it the next minute in triumph. "Well not now, but then?" he asks with a smile. Lord Voldemort rises from his chair to touch the place where his heart used to be with his wand and says: "Then at all hazards, my wizard's oath!".
The next morning, when Tom Riddle in disguise rings the Hogwarts door bell, he instructs his boy: "Don't let em sort you. Tell them you are a Slytherin. And give young Lord Malfoy my letter. That should help you stay save until I come back to claim you."
"Unsorted!" sputters Harry Potter as he returns from the Pensieve. "Thats what the Trelawney babbling meant! Someone who does not belong to any house at all."
He turns the notice and reads Voldemorts parting words: "I should have drown him like a cat that very day."