He then opened his satchel and drew forth parchment, ink and a quill, and set to writing. "I need to get down the details about Black, first," he muttered.
As he wrote he asked more and more specific questions. And, once he was finished, he slid the parchment aside and leaned back.
"So," he began. "Crouch, on the orders of Bagnold, just threw Black into Azkaban. As far as you know, there will be no record of questioning, archive of evidence, or even a record of trial. Black is, in fact, innocent; and, even if he wasn't, he should still be free because he was never tried and found guilty.
"You've met the man; most recently last June in the Shrieking Shack, here, in Hogsmeade. Plus, you also spoke with Pettigrew when he was forced out of his animagus form and admitted to being guilty of the attack on your parent's cottage, and the murder of the thirteen muggles, and that he'd taken the Dark Mark.
"Further, you've explained all this to the Minister, yet he still tried to get Black 'Kissed'. On top of that, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin also know this to be true."
"That's right," replied Harry. "As does Hermione, here," he continued, indicating Hermione, who nodded back in confirmation.
"And Ron Weasley," Hermione added.
"The man doesn't need a trial, he needs to be exonerated!" Ackerman exclaimed.
"No," Harry replied shaking his head. "He must have a trial, or the best approximation of one. No one will believe his innocence unless he gets one and is publicly exonerated. Fudge, as I've explained, will bury it unless you do. He does not want the Ministry... or, rather, himself... embarrassed by it coming out that Sirius was incarcerated in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit. He'd rather see the man Kissed so he can hide it."
"Well," sighed Ackerman. "You've got me on board." Leaning forward, he said, "I'll need memories of all that you've witnessed on this. I doubt even Amelia Bones will aid us without them."
Already prepared, Harry drew a clean phial out of his robes and drew his wand. Holding the wand to his temple he drew forth a copy of the memory of the meeting in the Shrieking Shack before letting it drop into the phial, and corked it.
Handing it across to Ackerman, he explained, "That's the entirety of the meeting in the Shrieking Shack. I believe it's probably all you're going to need, memory-wise."
Nodding, Ackerman pulled a wooden box out of his satchel and placed the phial with the memory strand within it into it. "You're right. That should be enough to get Bones on side with this."
"But, remember," Harry cautioned. "You need to careful with this. If Fudge, or any of his lackeys, get wind of this, he will do all that he can to make sure it never comes to trial."
"Understood, Mister Potter," replied Ackerman. "Now," he moved on. "Perhaps you can tell me how you know You-Know-Who's name is really this Tom whatever."
"May I have a small sheet of parchment, your ink and quill, please," asked Harry.
Once the solicitor handed them over, Harry quickly wrote out I AM LORD VOLDEMORT on one line; then, about three inches lower, wrote out TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Then he drew lines between both, matching the letters up. Before he finally spun the parchment about and slid it back across to Ackerman.
Ackerman took a long look at what Harry had done before he looked back up at Harry in surprise. "An anagram!" he softly exclaimed.
"Yes, Sir," replied Harry. "Riddle was a student, here, in the late thirties and early forties, in Slytherin. He was given an Award for Services to the School in 1943 for fingering Rubeus Hagrid for the crime of releasing Slytherin's monster, a basilisk, upon the school. A Ravenclaw student named Myrtle Cummings was killed. She's now the ghost known as Moaning Myrtle. He then went on to become the Head Boy in 1945 off the back of that.
"However, it was Riddle who had found the chamber and released the basilisk, not Hagrid. Riddle's trademark when he killed people was to set it up so that another was fingered for the crime. He did the same thing when he killed his father, paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother... and memory charmed his maternal uncle to force the man to admit to the crime.
"He went on, after leaving school and while working for Borgin & Burkes, to murder Hepzibah Smith... pointing the evidence to Smith's house elf, Hokey.
"After killing Smith, he almost immediately took off for the continent, where he remained for about ten years. When he came back, he came back as Lord Voldemort. That was 1957."
"Sweet Merlin," said a passionate Ackerman. "That's quite the tale."
"Ministry records will contain most of the information you can check if you want to check my facts," shrugged Harry. "However, that's not one of my tasks I have for you and your firm."
"Yes," said Ackerman, recognising the point to get back on track. "You also wanted assistance with matters relating to defamation."
"Yes," said Harry. "For what has occurred in the past and what is likely to come."
"And just how have you been defamed, Mister Potter?" he asked.
"You know all those books? - Harry Potter and the... - for a start, not one of them is true. Plus, no one has ever approached me for my permission to use my name, image or anything similar. I want them stopped and sued," explained Harry. "I also want your firm to go after all those who have used my name to promote their products, no matter how small or considered inconsequential. Again, none of them have had my permission to do so. That's to start with."
While he was talking, Miss Pentridge was writing down the instructions on her own parchment.
"I also want to retain your services to protect my reputation in future," Harry continued. "During my second year here, I was continually slandered and sneered at because people believed I was the Heir of Slytherin, and was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets being reopened. I do not want to see that happen ever again.
"Further, after the Prophet announced... without our permission, mind... that us three were part of a three-way soul bond, we were inundated with abusive mail and packages designed with the intent of causing one or more of us harm. I will not stand for that. I want the management of the Prophet well and truly smacked down for it, with a warning never to do it again... else, face my legal wrath. You."
Nodding, as she was writing, Miss Pentridge replied, "We can do all that. I take it you want recompense for the use of your name and image?"
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