Disclaimer: Allow me to again state that any entries in these "journals" by poor professor Quirrel were written by the amazing TAE and, of course, everything ultamatly belongs to JK Rowling :)
Well, here I am at the party, Voldy-mort, and I hope you're happy. I don't know when the last time is that I've been this humiliated, or this miserable. Okay, so maybe it seemed kind of promising when I first got here. Sort of. I hurried to the dungeons, terrified that Snape was going to leap out at me from some corner and demand to know what was going on. I don't care if I'm the one with the big evil plans and not him, he�s still dark and scary looking and he always watches me funny as if he knows. Either that or he secretly wants to pull my turban off just to see how I look without it. A lot of people have that problem.
Yeah, so once we all got there Dumbledore jumped onto the table (I almost had a heart attack) and told us we need to loosen up and be happy and more importantly, get drunk. Then he did some sort of big beer-accio type spell, and all sorts of drinks appeared. He looked all excited and waited for somebody to make a move, but everybody just sort of stood there. Maybe they were still as startled by Dumbledore's jump and professors-gone-wild speech as I was, but I think it's more likely they didn't want to look stupid by being the first one to grab a drink. But as I told myself, (and as Voldemort whispered to me at that exact second, as if I wasn't nervous enough) what I would do is to march proudly up there, take a gulp of something-or-other, and attempt to make conversation.
I opted to do nothing.
"Get up there right now you idiot!" Voldemort hissed angrily. I stood there casually, trying to pretend I wasn�t about to start talking to my other face.
"Which one?" I muttered under my breath, "I don't want any of them."
"Don't be stupid" Voldemort whispered. "You drink unicorn blood every night and you're afraid of a little Firewhiskey?"
"No," I mumbled. "I don't want to look silly." I felt his eyes rolling in the back of my skull.
"Go," he whispered, "Right now, or I shall make strange noises very loudly!"
Bastard. He did that in class the other day, and the Weasley twins almost died laughing. So I smiled really big, and said something idiotic like, "Well, let's get this party started!" and sauntered over to the table where the drinks were. I smiled even bigger and said forcedly, "Well, let's see here. I think I'll have some of this... stuff."
I grabbed a bottle and stared at it stupidly. Oh well. No choice now. I pulled the stopper out, took a big swig, and... immediately choked up the whole thing onto my robes and the dungeon floor. Just thinking about it is making me cringe. "Heh," I laughed feebly. "Good stuff. Er, yes. Just have to... get in the proper mood."
I stood there for a moment, staring at the dumbfounded faces that surrounded me, then dashed off to the corner where I collapsed onto a chair and began to write all this. It looks like my little show gave them something to talk about though, as they've all gotten up and started drinking and mingling, and occasionally pretending not to look at me. Maybe in a while I'll get up and try to regain some of my dignity. Even Voldemort is embarrassed for me, he says it's okay if I want to stay in the corner and cower for a bit. Yes, I think I'll do that...
