Disclaimer: See Prologue.

A/N: Okay, I'm writing this now because I know I won't be able to tomorrow. This is the last chapter dealing with the choosing, and you won't believe what's going to happen next::evil grin: Now, onto the story!

The Chosen Eight

Chapter Eleven

The Choosing - Lady Hufflepuff

Susan sighed mournfully as she settled into her room for the night. It really wasn't her room. She couldn't think of it that way. Her room was back at her Auntie Amelia's house. She blinked back the tears that came at the thought of her aunt. She wasn't going to cry, not again, not here. My mother wouldn't understand, she couldn't. She didn't know or care to know Susan. She was just there until start of term. Then she would come of age and not have to worry about living with someone who could never comprehend her.

How had her life fallen apart? She was a good, diligent student, she was generally well-liked among her fellow housemates. She wasn't particularly outgoing, but she was approachable. Sure, she had mannerisms like her aunt that made people think twice before crossing her, but she wasn't a bad person. So why had all this happened to her? Why did the Dark Lord have to target her aunt?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. She opened her eyes, and froze. She wasn't in the room at her mother's anymore. What was going on? Gazing around, her eyes fell on a woman quietly observing her from the doorway. The jovial and trusting feeling the woman gave off instantly calmed her, allowing her to wait patiently for the woman to finish her appraisal.

Helga smiled at her reaction. "My, you are a curious one, aren't you dear? Now, I don't mean that in a bad way. Apparently I've had the most luck in my choices. You are both very well mannered."

"I'm not sure I follow," Susan said, perplexed.

"I am Helga Hufflepuff, dearie, and you are at Ebony Palace to be trained as my Heir."

Susan had heard of the Heirs of the Founders before, who aunt had taught her their significance. To be here, now, with the long-dead Hufflepuff proclaiming that she was to be her Heir, it seemed to her a dream. In fact, that's what she concluded it must be. She would just quietly wait this out, and maybe she would wake up, or her subconscious mind would move on to a different dream.

"I know that look," Helga stated matter-of-factly. "You don't believe this is real."

"I can hardly be expected to, ma'am," Susan stated.

"I take back what I said about my being lucky," Helga muttered, then tried a different tactic. "Susan, all your life you have worked hard, modeled yourself after your aunt and tried to do the right thing, correct?"

"Yes," she replied uncertainly.

"This is your reward. You have been the very epitome of what a Hufflepuff should strive to be. I have watched you grow and flourish, and I know that I have made the right choice."

Susan grew quiet as she thought about what Helga was saying. She knew deep down that this wasn't a dream, but she rejected it because she didn't believe she deserved it. How could she be a Hufflepuff Heir when she couldn't even save her aunt? Now, however, she began to realize that her aunt's death had nothing to do with her and everything to do with a crazed, power-hungry Dark Lord. And she couldn't stand idly by.

"What do I do?"

OoooOoooOoooO

Susan woke up at peace about her aunt's death. She couldn't forgive or forget what Voldemort's followers had done to her, but she would not lose herself in grief. Her aunt had moved on, and would never have to deal with the war that was occurring in the world again. Susan wouldn't let her aunt's efforts to resolve this war be in vain. She would see this war ended, or die trying.

Tbc…

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