Chapter 8- Oblivion and Ghosts

Aletta was beside herself! What a rude, smug, malignant man, she thought, how dare he say that to me! His last words to her continuously played over in her mind.
"And I pity myself for not having as much . . . authority as you do."
Aletta slammed her bathroom door shut and began to change into a formal black, satiny dress with a V-neck and spaghetti straps. The dress went down to her knees and hugged her curves and bosom perfectly. After she slipped it on, she walked over to the walnut vanity mirror above a table in her bedroom. A few flicks of her brush achieved the windswept style of her hair, tousled like a wispy cloud trailing away from her face in shimmering waves of dusty amber. The pale tan of her complexion needed no makeup; a moisturizing cream provided a subdued glow. A very light application of eye shadow gave a hint of gray to intensify the color of her eyes.
"Applying warpaint," her reflection teased wickedly. Yes, Aletta smiled, reaching for the mascara.
At half past six, she was ready to go face the heartless bat.

It had taken Aletta about five minutes to find the Great Hall. And when she did find it, the feast had indeed already started. She had missed the sorting. As she cursed silently under her breath, she opened the voluminous doors to the Great Hall and entered cautiously. Hastily, she walked quickly toward her great uncle, every pair of eyes on her. When she had reached the table at the front of the Hall, she realized that the only seat left was right next to her object of dislike. Aletta was apparently feeling very brave that day, and she looked right up into those black, abysmal eyes. She suddenly looked away, not able to bear the emptiness in them, and pivoted toward her seat.
As she sat down, Albus stood up and addressed the students, "Students, may I please have your utmost attention." The sounds of conversation died down and turned their focus on their Headmaster.
Albus continued, "I am proud to announce that our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has finally arrived! And without any further ado, I would like to introduce you to Professor Aletta Dumbledore!"
The halls filled with applause and whistles. Aletta suddenly felt a pang of happiness as they applauded her. She stood and nodded.
"Aletta isn't a name you hear every day, is it not?"
The silky, full-toned voice made Aletta jump. Yet, her composure came back just as quickly.
"Professor Snape," she said as she retook her seat, not glancing at him, "I didn't see you there."
That's rich, she thought, of course he'll know you bloody well saw him.
"Oblivion is sweet," he purred gently, "but I suggest you look at whom you're sitting next to. You might regret it."
I already do, she answered in her head.
Aletta suddenly did a very foolish thing. She turned her head to look upon him, and was greeted by the same, spooky eyes. Snape's mouth quirked at the corner as she stared at him. How handsome he was. But she would not let that get her to lose her composure she had already regained. Irritated at her schoolgirlish stare, Aletta glanced away swiftly. She ate the rest of her dinner in silence, not talking to anyone until a ghost appeared before her. She then realized it was the same ghost she had stumbled upon before.
"Hello!" he said joyfully. "I'm Sir Nicolas!"
"Yes I know," Aletta laughed as she studied the ghost.
"Your uncle has told me about how you had always wanted to see a ghost!"
"Oh, yes," she said."I've dreamed about it ever since I was a girl!"
"You dream about dead guys?" that oh-so-familiar, sarcastic voice jeered from next to her.
Aletta ignored his remark and continued her conversation with Sir Nicolas, hoping that she would soon be able to leave the uncomfortable spot she was in.