Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, do you really think I would be writing fanfiction? I thought not.
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They were parallels. Any quirk of an eyebrow or quiver of a lip could easily be mirrored by Harry's bland features. But Harry was in denial. They were nothing alike. The dim candlelight flickered around them, constricting their vision but still allowing harry to see the murderous glint in his opponent's strikingly familiar green eyes. It was like looking in a reflection when Harry looked at those eyes, threatening him by their very presence. "Oh, Harry" said Tom, with artificial sweetness thickly coating his voice, "I thought you'd never come..." He smirked at the lack of response, clearly not expecting an answer.
"I missed you Harry." Harry writhed against the harsh ties that bound him to the heavy slab of stone, twisting and pulling at the ropes, desperate to get free. "Oh, but Harry, I did miss you. It was tiresome having my basilisk do all of the work for me, I needed to hear you scream, needed to feel the intensity of your nightmares. I crave your pain, Harry" Harry's nervous eyes quickly darted around the room, searching. "Looking for this, my pet?" Tom said softly, holding up Harry's wand. "You really ought to be more careful, Harry." Tom lazily tossed Harry's wand behind him onto the cold stone floor. "The girl was amusing I suppose, at first…" He looked pointedly at Harry. "But don't worry, never as much fun as you, so that's when I decided to dispose of her-" "No!" shouted Harry, straining as the ropes cut into his skin. "Well, well," said Tom "the hero speaks at last…" Harry was hissing half-finished sentences, spitting with rage. "Where is Ginny?! Need to see-! Dumbledore will never-! How did-!?"
Tom started to walk closer now, whispering harshly, all of his false sweetness gone. "Ginny is long gone Harry. I stood true to my word. Her skeleton will lie in this chamber…forever. No one knows you are down here, not even," He practically spat with mockery "Dumbledore!" "No!" Harry screamed, sobbing audibly. "Yes, my dear Harry, I am going to mark you, like I did with that Weasley. Mark you as mine and then dispose of you. When I am done you'll be nothing more than a mutilated body, a bloody mass upon the floor."
Tom begun to stroked his forearm, in a way that would seem almost lovingly, if it not for the circumstances. His sharp nails dug into the soft, pale skin, allowing a steady stream of dark red liquid ooze from the spot. He then did the same to himself, the blood running loosely over his hands, and dripping sickeningly from the tips of his slender fingers. "See? We are not so different, you and me. We bleed the same, from our disgraceful half-blood parentage. We both lost our fathers, mine deliberate, yours accidental, but a death all the same. We could even be brothers." Tom shoved his blood-drenched forearm against Harry's. Harry moaned in agony. "I know you dream about me, Harry. I force you to dream about me. Do you like it, Harry? Do you like dreaming about me?"