John felt fear run through his body as he said that name, but after a few seconds he came to his senses.

"Wait, it can't be Grindelwald, he's still locked up in Nurmengard, besides, I find it hard to believe that a monster of his caliber could be killed by a child, that would be a real joke."

The fearful atmosphere that had been set earlier was broken by John's words.

Professor McGonagall rubbed her forehead in embarrassment, as a follower of Dumbledore, she knew Grindelwald and several of the actions he committed, so she understood to some extent why John was reacting, but the wizards around her did not know this, so she looked worriedly at the wizards around them while holding her wand tightly, ready to attack in case one of them went mad and attacked John, and it was not for less, her words had offended many of those present.

"It's because you don't mean Grindelwald, but the true and greatest dark wizard of all time," Professor Quirinus said through gritted teeth.

"If not Grindelwald, then who is it?"

"Voldemort," said Quirinus.

Everyone in the room trembled with fear and rage.

"Voldemort," he paused dramatically, "who, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, that name rings a bell, oh, right, Mundungus, wasn't Voldemort the waste of a wizard that Dumbledore had to create the Order of the Phoenix to fight his Death Eaters?"

Everyone present looked angrily at Mundungus, whose expression on his face was an amalgam of fear, anger, hatred and despair, who, after a few seconds, fell to the floor in a swoon.

"For a dead man to cause such terror, something unimaginable had to have been done."

Inwardly John couldn't help but feel ashamed, Grindelwald was the guy who turned the human world upside down in his time, to the extent that it wasn't the Quelrathar who stopped him, but Dumbledore.

But thinking about it, the Voldemort thing made a lot of sense if you analyzed his title from one aspect in which Grindelwald failed, and that was his cruelty to wizards. Grindelwald tended to lock up in Nurmengard the wizards who opposed him or betrayed him; it was very rare occasions when he killed wizards.

That was the only comparison he could think of under which Voldemort could be categorized as the greatest dark wizard of all time, if this was a wizard who mercilessly killed wizards.

And it was quite logical; wizards tended to despise human beings, very few were those who held that mutual respect, so Grindelwald, a wizard who killed human beings, should be much less terrifying in their eyes than Voldemort, a wizard who probably killed wizards.

"Your ignorance is admirable, dirty blood," echoed a cold voice in the bar.

John woke up from his thoughts, although he didn't understand the part about being a 'dirty blood', from the context of the words, it was obvious that it must be an insult, and from what little he knew, he could only think of one thing, wizards born of human families.

Everyone in the bar turned their gaze to Professor Quirrell, quite astonished at what he said.

"Quirinus Quirrell! Watch your mouth and apologize right now!" shouted Professor McGonagall. To her, what Quirrell said was not only an offense to John and Muggle-born wizards but also a great offense to the honor of Hogwarts.

For a teacher to express himself in such a way showed what low moral standards they possessed and, thus, what the school had to offer. The report John had given him made him understand that Hogwarts needed a change; it was Quirinus' attitude that reinforced his idea.

Being the target of multiple stares, Quirrell's attitude reverted back to his shy and withdrawn personality.

"Sorry John, I didn't mean to," he stammered.

"No problem; I think I was a bit insensitive talking about subjects I knew nothing about. I apologize to everyone here; perhaps I offended someone by my comments." He said it with an apologetic posture.

Several wizards in the crowd accepted John's apology. The words John had said had upset them; almost all of them were survivors of that dark time, a time of terror where you didn't know when the person chatting with you today would be a cold corpse tomorrow.

It was frightening, many wizards there had lost a father, a mother, a son, a daughter, a husband, a wife, a friend or an acquaintance. Many were still afraid, afraid that when they woke up the first thing they would see out the window would be Voldemort's symbol in the sky.

John's words had enraged them, their innocence and ignorance trampling on what dignity they had left—a cheap and rotten dignity at not taking revenge for losing the ones they loved and not standing up to fight for a better future.

Voldemort was dead. Many of the wizards in the Leaky Cauldron had old, dreamless, and broken lives. Voldemort was dead; they had no reason to be afraid of him, but if he wasn't, if Voldemort was still alive, hiding in the darkness, scheming evil plans to impose his ideals on the world, maybe, maybe, maybe, dying fighting him and his tyranny wouldn't be so bad; after all, they had nothing to lose.

Quirinus sensed the atmosphere shifting in a strange direction, so he slipped away without saying goodbye.

Professor McGonagall frowned. Quirinus' attitude was rather strange, in fact, she hadn't thought it through, but his temper and stuttering didn't match his manner when he taught Muggle Studies or was a student at Hogwarts. It could be because he was a bit more sensitive than usual after chatting with John, but she couldn't help but feel that Quirinus was hiding something; his attitude when defending Voldemort was rather suspicious.

"Alright, we've wasted too much time already, come on, let's get on with our tour," said Professor McGonagall.