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"I knew you were coming," were Anathema Device's first words to Harry when he wandered up the drive to her front door. She'd opened it before he could knock, staring at him with wide, dark eyes that didn't blink quite often enough for his comfort or peace of mind. At least she was considerably older than his first assignment--seventeen or eighteen, he guessed, and on the tall side, too. Technically a teenager, just as Sunny was technically a kid, but clearly Zabini still felt like pushing the envelope.

"Did you," Harry said, figuring that it was pretty possible. If a young woman could be named Anathema Device, of all things, then psychic powers were hardly out of the question. Hell, even Trelawney occasionally got a prediction right.

"Oh yes," Anathema agreed solemnly. "You see, you were in The Book. From what I can tell, you're either supposed to be an interdimensional encyclopedia salesman or my new mentor. Either way, I'm sorry, but I'm not terribly interested. And I must warn you, if you get fresh, I have a bread knife."

Harry stared. Encylopedia salesman?! Bread knife?

"Uh," he said intelligently. "Well. First off, about the, er, getting fresh thing--I'm married."

"And?" Anathema asked suspiciously. "That's never stopped anyone."

"Married to a very scary, very strong lady who can make magic booger-bats fly out of my nose and attack me," Harry elaborated. "A scary lady with five older brothers." Anathema gave this due consideration, then relaxed a little and nodded. "As for the mentor thing, well, I'm actually just here for the day. Or, ah, the afternoon."

"I know," Anathema said, knowingly. Harry was starting to think that she had to be at least a little psychic, in addition to having some mysterious The Book (Harry could practically hear the capitalized letters).

"I'm only here to talk to you about using your powers for, well, good. Or at least not for the sort of enormous, psychotic evil that will destroy your world and damage mine. But you can only be moderately good, because if you're really good, that could cause problems as well." Anathema, he suspected, was the sort of person one was better off being straight-forward with. If only because he was a little creeped out by the pale teenager, and didn't want her accusing him of lying or trying to sell her something.

He wasn't entirely sure this was a step up from Sunny Baudelaire. He understood sharp teeth and unintelligible gurgling. They made sense. Telling a girl like Anathema Device that she had to be moderately good, no more and no less? That made considerably less sense.

"From what I've read in The Book," Anathema told him, sounding like Hermione launching into one of her many lectures about--well, he didn't know quite what Hermione lectured him and Ron about, because he never really listened. "I won't be particularly bad or particularly good. Mostly, I'll just be around. Though I suspect I will try to avert the apocalypse in the not-too-distant future."

"And you read all of this in...The book?" Harry asked, feeling entirely out of his depth.

Anathema skewered him with a narrow-eyed stare. "You know," she told him, disgruntled, "for a dimension-hopping mentor, you really don't seem to be very well-informed."

"No, that would be your area of expertise," Harry said a bit sharply.

Anathema considered him for a long moment, then smiled. "True. Which is why I know you really shouldn't be wasting your time with me. There's someone else you're supposed to visit while you're in this dimension, correct?"

Harry coughed. "My, uh, project coordinator said so. But he was a little unclear on the details."

"You're looking for a boy," Anathema told him, as if that should narrow his search down.

"That much, I knew," Harry muttered. "Actually, I've got three names. The right boy is one of them--I suppose I'll just have to visit them all and, uh, give them the don't-destroy-the-world talk." Not an easy talk, to be sure, but considerably better than a few other Talks he could name.

Anathema snorted. "I have to say, your 'project coordinator' doesn't sound very coordinated."

Harry grinned, suddenly feeling a great wave of fondness for the girl, creepy eyes and mysterious book aside. "I think you'll be all right," he told her. "Anyone who insults Zabini is pretty much destined to do good. But only a mediocre sort of good."

"You aren't the most responsible moral guide ever, are you," Anathema stated, lips quirking.

"I lie a lot," Harry allowed. "And I'm a bit nosy."

"Well, I suppose you're all right, then," Anathema pronounced. Harry beamed.

Harry Potter, Transdimensional Guidance Counselor, Chapter 3