Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay.

Chapter 29: Dragon Balls

The second time Harry Potter attended a meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, he was much better prepared for the experience. When the public "minutes" of the meeting were proposed, he voted to accept them without question and was much better informed about the various initiatives within the ICW and had a good idea about their true purposes. While there were still a few dull stretches where members debated rather blasé minutia he just couldn't force himself to care about in the slightest, for the most part Harry was able to give the meeting his full attention and occasionally even offer his perspective as a student.

The ICW delegates were meeting in a small manor house overseeing a bit of farmland, one of several such properties that supplied the Hogwarts kitchen with the raw ingredients that would be used in their regular meals. Unlike Hogwarts, which was Unplottable, could not be Apparated to, and was heavily warded against unauthorized entry, the manor was easily accessible by portkey and a convenient apparition point that bypassed the wards on the farmland itself. The members were seated around a large table,

The topic Harry found the most interesting was that of curriculum reform. After spending untold hours studying as hard as his brain would allow for the last three years, he was now to the point where he could hold an intelligent conversation with Hermione on almost any subject in Charms, Defense, and was making great strides in Transfiguration. Now that he had started teaching, Harry was looking at the instruction of magic from a whole new perspective and found the ramifications of various magical theories on what a person would believe was possible and not possible to be fascinating. So, when the issue of updating the NEWT curriculum was brought up, Harry wanted to make a suggestion.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, his hand raised.

"This isn't Hogwarts, boy," Magnus McGuff barked, "Ya don't need ta raise yer hand and ya don't call the Supreme Mugwump 'professor' either."

Harry's face flushed. He'd never met McGuff before. The last meeting had been a more international affair, with representatives from several other countries in attendance. This was a wholly local meeting, with all members coming from England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. The Irish delegates had made it a point to remind everyone that they were not subject to the British Ministry of Magic, even though those in Northern Ireland were part of the United Kingdom as far as Muggle politics were concerned. There was a bit of animosity there that Harry didn't know the history of.

Harry was about to correct himself when Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat before speaking.

"While it is true that we are not meeting on Hogwarts grounds itself, I feel I would be remiss if I did not point out to the Irish delegate that this land is owned by the school, passed on from the Founders, and so in a sense, this is Hogwarts. However, you are correct that it is not entirely proper for Mr. Potter to address me as 'professor' outside of the school."

For the second time in as many seconds, Harry felt chagrined, and was about to apologize when Dumbledore turned to him directly, eyes twinkling.

"Harry, of course, has earned the right to address me as Albus when outside of Hogwarts. So, there is no need to address me as Headmaster, Professor, or Chief Mugwump except in more formal settings. I look forward to hearing Mr. Potter's ideas. I suggest we all listen and consider them carefully." The last part was said to the group as a whole, Dumbledore fixing those in attendance with a knowing twinkle. "Harry."

Harry couldn't help it. He broke out in a brilliant smile. "Thank you… Albus." Turning to address the group, Harry pulled out his wand and flourished it forward, only for a great gleaming white and silver stag to burst forth. The patronus swiftly cantered around the table full of wizards, the warmth given off by the intangible being instantly lifting everyone's spirits, if only for a moment. And then the magnificent stag disappeared.

There were a number of gasps that went up from around the table. "Fully corporeal!" "Completely silent!" "Like it was the easiest thing in the world!" Not many of those present had ever actually witnessed Harry doing magic.

"I'd like to talk about the patronus charm and how it is being taught. The patronus is powerful, and one of the most versatile defensive spells in the curriculum. Not only can it ward off dark creatures like dementors and lethifolds, but it can provide a defense against a wide range of hexes and curses that are reliant on negative emotional states. And yet, only those achieving Exceeds Expectations and higher at the NEWT exams are likely to be able to cast it at a proficient level."

"Aye, very impressive Mr. Potter," McGuff interrupted. "Yer right that the patronus charm is powerful, and very useful. And aye, we could tell people that it's a lot easier than we do, but—"

Harry had gone quiet at McGuff's initial interruption, but as the man went on dismissing Harry's input before he'd even given it, Harry started to feel annoyed. He stole a glance over at the Headmaster and he could have sworn the man's eye twinkled at him, as if to say: go right on ahead.

Harry stood up and gathered all the force of his magic, and as he learned in facing dragons and dealing with veela, pushed it out beyond his physical form to create an aura of power. Magical light visibly shown off of his body and everyone in the room (save Dumbledore) shrank back from the power laid bare. The room went silent as Harry stood there radiating magic, his green eyes now glowing. After a moment, Harry spoke, and his voice boomed.

"Did you think that the patronus charm was the pinnacle of my magic? That I cast that spell to show off? Or that I'm just too young to understand as well as you what we are doing here in the ICW?" Harry held the force of his aura there for another moment, the Irish wizard shrinking back from him in alarm when Harry glared his way. For a few heartbeats, Harry let the wizard fear that he had made a very serious mistake. And then Harry let the power surrounding him go and he stood there again, just a young wizard boy with glasses and a scar on his forehead.

"The reason," Harry's voice had returned to normal, "I am suggesting changing the way we approach teaching the patronus charm is specifically because while it is powerful against certain enemies and it is versatile, its power and versatility are not a function of the caster, but rather of the independent magical being that is being summoned. Unlike when I Vanished the dementors who were trying to suck the soul out of my godfather," Harry looked pointedly around the room, "when I relied on the power of the patronus it was not my own strength that was at work.

"There's not just that, but there's clearly a benefit to Wizarding society as a whole to have more people using one of the few spells that is clearly light magic. Even those who cannot produce a corporeal form patronus can use the shield form, and that will strengthen their connection to positive magic. We should be encouraging the use of light magic for the same reason we discourage or outright ban legitimately dark spells."

When Harry finished, nobody spoke a word in protest. Magnus McGuff and the rest of the Irish delegation were obviously cowed and several of the ICW members were looking at Harry with an all new sense of awe, or for some renewed respect. One delegate Harry recognized from the previous meeting, Xenophilius Lovegood, had an excited, almost giddy expression as he looked at Harry.

After a prompt from Dumbledore to continue, Harry laid out his idea in full detail, suggesting alterations to the instruction in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and even Magical Creatures over the next ten minutes. At first the other ICW members were apprehensive about interrupting him, but after Harry asked for their input and encouraged them, there were some enthusiastic ideas. In the end, most of what Harry had suggested was accepted with only a few alterations.

"All in favor of recommending Mr. Potter's motion to the full ICW body?" Dumbledore motioned. Every wand in the room was raised with a light at the tip. "The motion passes unanimously. Now, if there is any further business?"

Xenophilius Lovegood stood. "I propose that Mr. Potter undergo the Toriyama Appraisal."

There were immediately murmurs of assent. Magnus McGuff called out, "Seconded!" Harry, looked around the room trying to figure out what they were talking about. When Harry glanced at the Headmaster he could tell from his eyes that Dumbledore was not thrilled about this proposal.

"Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. Lovegood," Dumbledore acknowledged, "but as Mr. Potter is not yet of age and is only a provisional member of the ICW, it is not appropriate to give him an assessment intended for a fully grown adult."

"Rubbish!" Lovegood answered, waving away Dumbledore's objection. "Mr. Potter is close enough to the age of majority that the results can be properly scaled, and it's obvious to everyone here that Mr. Potter is exceptional enough that he ought to be tested. I thought you of all people would agree, having hired him for the post as Assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

"That may be, Mr. Lovegood," Dumbledore replied, "but at this point in Harry's development—"

"Point of order, Supreme Mugwump."

Dumbledore turned to McGuff, the barest hint of annoyance in his eyes. "What is your point of order?"

"A privileged motion has been called, by a full ICW member mind ya, and seconded by another. By rule, the motion oughta be voted on without debate. If ya recall, Toriyama Appraisal requests are privileged if submitted after all new business."

Harry saw Professor Dumbledore frown in mild consternation. After a moment he spoke. "Very well. All in favor?" All wands, except for Harry's and Dumbledores were raised. "Motion passed. Harry Potter will be appraised, if he is willing."

"Um, Prof—Albus, what is a Toriyama Appraisal?"

"Nothing to worry about, Harry. It is simply, one way to measure magical strength. While I do not believe there is any real benefit to this test considering you special circumstances, but there is really little harm in it. Ultimately, whether you agree to it or not is up to you."

Harry glanced around the room. There was an expectant look on everyone's face, particularly Xenophilius Lovegood's. Only the Headmaster's expression was neutral.

"Alright. What do I have to do?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "This will not require any particular effort on your part, in fact the test is designed to remove any aspect of skill or effort from the measurement." The Supreme Mugwump turned to one of the ICW members at the table. "Mr. Croaker, do you have the requisite items?"

Mr. Croaker nodded, reached into his robes and produced a small brown satchel. The man reached his hand into the container, his arm going further into the bag than it should have been able to—clearly enchanted with an undetectable extension charm—and pulled out two roughly spherical objects and levitated them above the table. He then reached into a pocket inside his cloak and produced a large silver flask. Harry watched raptly as the man poured the contents of the flask, a clear liquid substance, onto each of the round objects, and then with a gesture from Mr. Croaker, the liquid poured back from each one back into the container.

"Mr. Potter," Mr. Croaker said, and now Harry recognized the man from his brief visit to the Department of Mysteries. An Unspeakable. That explained why his name wasn't on the official ICW minutes. "Please drink this. You'll feel a bit of a burning feeling, but it won't harm you."

Harry nodded, took the flask and downed it all. It tasted like hot vomit, but his natural instinct to gag was magically suppressed by the strange concoction. When it had all gone down, Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "What's in this?"

The man gave Harry a direct look, then almost imperceptibly shook his head.

Ah. A Mystery. The Unspeakable kind.

"Please hold out your hands." Mr. Croaker placed an orb in each of Harry's hands. "Now hold your arms out; keep them as far apart as possible."

Harry did so, feeling a strange heat pouring out from the objects into his hands. "And I guess I you can't tell me what the two orbs I'm holding are, either?"

By now, all the witches and wizards in the ICW had crowded together to watch the proceedings, forming a loose ring around Harry and the Unspeakable. Mr. Croaker had reached into his robes again and withdrawn an odd looking gold device with several dials and spindles that were all starting to rotate as the object was brought near Harry's chest.

"Actually," it was Xenophilius Lovegood who spoke now, "the nature of what you are holding is not a secret at all." The white haired man smiled at him, his eyes slightly cross-eyed. Harry caught a glimpse of a strangely shaped pendant on a golden chain hanging from his chest. "They're dragon testicles."

Harry nearly dropped the large orbs, only just managing to regain their balance on his upturned palms.

"Um, Professor Dumbledore….why am I holding dragon testicles in my hands?"

Nobody would fault the boy for reverting to calling the Headmaster by his more familiar title in such an awkward situation, even if they were still inclined to after Harry's recent display of power and the practicality of his suggestions. Certainly Albus Dumbledore would not begrudge his student the comfort of a familiar address.

"Consider, Harry, the difficulty of reliably measuring magical strength when there are a number of factors that can affect any given spell. A wizards belief, intent, and state of mind can greatly change the results from testing any single spell, or even an entire battery of tests of spells," Dumbledore explained. The dials and spindles on the object in Croaker's hand began to rotate and whirr around with increasing speed. "In fact, of all the known magical beings and creatures, witches and wizards are the most uniquely inconsistent in their ability to perform magic—and it is only with the stabilizing focus of an instrument such as a wand and through the use of standardized spells that most witches and wizards are able to reliably replicate magical effects."

As the spindles on the object continued to spin around and the dials at the center of the object rotated, the crowd around Harry began to murmur more excitedly. As Dumbledore continued his mini-lecture, the rate at which the spindles turned began to slowly decrease.

"That is where the idea of using magical creatures comes in; most magical beasts and creatures vary relatively little between individual members of the species. The magical properties of dragons in particular are very predictable and also very potent. When you know the age and size of a dragon, a simple arithmantic calculation can be achieved."

By this time the spindles on the device had slowed significantly, the dials in the center now revealing to be numerical counters as they slowed enough for the eyes to keep up.

Harry nodded in understanding. "So, this test will compare my magical strength to that of a dragon, which is a known quantity. And the testicle is used because it's the most reliable and magically potent part of a dragon."

Dumbledore nodded.

The spindles finally came to a near stop and the dials were holding at around a single value. Croaker nodded and took the dragon testicles from Harry's hand.

"Well?" It was McGuff this time who was asking. "What's the lad's magical power level?"

Croaker looked to Dumbledore who gave a short nod.

"It's…."

Weasley Seer

9042.

Harry frowned as he considered his conversation with Dumbledore at the conclusion of the meeting, feeling just a little let down by it all. It was a number that summed up the totality of his potential, that in a way, capped his growth.

Oh sure, Harry had been told, as he finished growing into adulthood that number would rise, probably a ten percent increase when he finally reached seventeen, and even afterwards his magical strength would continue to increase for decades more, just far more slowly. So, there was that.

And when the crowd had heard that his magical strength exceeded nine thousand most in the room were suitably impressed. After all, only the obviously strongest witches and wizards were ever so tested, maybe one in a hundred, and of those tested in the last century Harry rated in the top one percent in his result, and this from all over the world, not just Ireland and the United Kingdom.

But there was something….limiting about having a number put on him, no matter how high. It was galling, to some degree.

It wouldn't have been so bad if that were all. Harry had a thirst to prove himself, a drive that his unhappy childhood at the Dursleys had left him with, but he cared more about his friends and people in general than just his desire to be great. That's why he was in Gryffindor. No, it was the sense that who he was would let everyone down that bothered him. That 9042 wouldn't be enough.

Harry walked down the halls of Hogwarts castle back towards where his little teaching office was. After flooing back to the castle from the farm manor where the ICW meeting had been held, Harry had some serious questions for the Headmaster in his office, and he wasn't quite sure he was satisfied with the answers. Not that Harry suspected that Dumbledore had held anything from him, but more that Harry didn't like what the answers were.

Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, had an even higher number, and that was before the dark wizard had undergone multiple dark rituals which would serve to boost that number even higher. Only Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald had comparable numbers in the past century, and the Headmaster had long been in decline rather than ascendant.

Harry was snapped out of his musing by the sounds of an argument coming from his office. It was Hermione and one of the fifth year Ravenclaw students, Amanda something. Harry momentarily couldn't recall the other girl's name.

"Obviously, Potter made a mistake, and if you can't see that—"

"Ha!" Harry could hear Hermione's scoff from the hallway. "Do you seriously believe you know more than Harry Potter? There's a reason the Headmaster made Harry the Assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and it's not because he's the best Seeker on all the Quidditch teams this century."

"I'm not saying he's dumb or anything, Hermione, just that he can be wrong sometimes. And Harry isn't the best Seeker this century! Reggie Loudermilk—"

"Well, it's true that Harry is occasionally wrong," Hermione replied, "but he knows more about Defense magic than you and me. And his notes on the Repulsion charm were not wrong."

"But in chapter fourteen…"

"You don't think Harry knows that? You can bet Harry understands it better than you. And Harry would fly circles around Reggie Loudermilk if he were around today, and you know it."

"Whatever!" Amanda whats-her-name said, throwing up her hands in disgust, stomping out of Harry's office, not even noticing the young wizard standing just outside the door.

Harry stepped in, a small smirk on his face. "So I'm be the best Seeker at Hogwarts this whole century?"

Hermione's face lit up, a slight tinge of red coloring her cheeks at Harry's eavesdropping mingling with the obvious happiness she felt at seeing her best friend. "Harry!" She gave him one of her trademark emotional hugs. "How was the ICW meeting?"

Harry purposely kept his face from registering the mild distress he had just been feeling and gave him one of his usual smiles. "It was interesting." Harry looked down at the parchment on his desk to see what Hermione and the Ravenclaw had been talking about. "So what was that argument about?"

Hermione made a move to grab the parchment, and immediately alarms went off in Harry's head. Hermione was brilliant, but she wasn't very good and fooling him. It was clever of her to rile up the Ravenclaw by referencing Quidditch, Harry had to admit, but anyone who knew her would have realized it was a ploy to change the subject.

"Oh, nothing. Amanda came in while I was waiting for you, and she tried to say that you made a mistake in your last lesson. But it was really her mistake."

Harry took the parchment from Herimone's hand and looked at it, and immediately smacked his own forehead. Merlin. The Ravenclaw was right—sort of. What Harry said and what the textbook said were contradictory, even though doing it Harry's way was actually easier to conceptualize and worked better.

"Look, Harry, don't worry about it."

Harry sighed. There was no way Hermione hadn't realized he'd made a mistake. Surreptitiously, he pulled his wand from its sheath. If he didn't fix this now it was going to be a nightmare getting her to reconcile her knowledge that he was wrong yet his magic still working perfectly with her worldview on authority and scholarship. She'd go mental. Have another breakdown. It had been months since the last time he'd have to do this, which made it harder.

"Honestly, Harry, it's okay. Really. It doesn't matter that you made a little mistake. I know the secret."

Harry froze, his wand slid back into its sheath. "What secret?"

"Yours. And Dumbledore's."

Harry felt his heartbeat speeding up. Could it be that she figured it out and wasn't going crazy? That she could handle the truth?

Seeing that Harry wasn't panicking, Hermione told him. "I know that you and Dumbledore can use a Greater Magic—that the rules don't apply the same to you and him—or to Voldemort. And that's why you are the only ones who can fight him."

Harry's mouth gaped open like a fish before closing again, the words he had been about to say dying on his lips as the words she were saying registered. This was not what Harry had been expecting.

"I know regular witches and wizards like Ron, Neville and me have different rules and limitations that you just don't have, but that's okay. I know why you need to keep that such a secret, but I promise, I won't tell anyone. I swear on my magic!"

"So..." Harry began, pausing as he looked Hermione in the eye, "you know about…the Greater Magic…."

Hermione nodded.

"And you're okay with that?"

"Of course! I mean, at first I may have been a little mad that you didn't tell me about it, but then I realized that if you did that would make me responsible for not telling Ron." Hermione didn't even take a breath between sentences. "And of course we can't tell Ron, as much as we'd like to. He'd never be able to handle it. So, I forgave you, and I've just been waiting for the right opportunity to let you know that I know and…"

Harry grabbed Hermione and gave her a big hug. Oh it was such a relief not to have to obliviate her anymore. And he didn't even have to lie. She did that for him. What she believed would…

And then it clicked.

Harry Potter smiled. That was what Dumbledore had meant back in the office. It didn't matter if Voldemort was stronger magically, not really. What really mattered was that Harry believed he could win and that he made sure Voldemort would believe that he could lose.

Magical power levels don't really mean anything.