Lucius stares harder, surprise in his eyes, though his voice remains calm and even. "You are?" He looks more carefully at the man, resisting the urge to ask if he's sure. "I was under the impression you were dead." It's a statement, not a question. He pauses. "Seventeen years?" For him, it's been not quite a decade. "This bloody place" is mumbled under his breath.
"Being on the Board of Governors, I of course made a point of meeting the professors. We met on...at least two seperate occasions that I recall." If, of course, this is the same Quirell. But why should it be? No other wizard here is from his reality that he's determined.
He raises and sips his wine, leaning against the bar, as the other man downs his drink. His eyebrow raises slightly.