A/N: It has been a while, hasn't it... hopefully I'll be able to get some more of these out soon. Enjoy.
Helga Hufflepuff watched with disdain as Voldemort's forces charged. Brutes. Most of them fought out of fear, and the rest to satisfy their bloodlust. Not a scrap of true loyalty to be found. But whatever their motivation, they posed an enormous threat to her, one that she was powerless to resist. The wards around her had fallen, broken by the twisted power of the Elder Wand, and now all that stood between her and them were her children. Oh, they were brave and wise and cunning, and their loyalty was unmatched by any, but she feared that this was a battle they would not win.
She wondered what exactly would happen to her if the invaders were victorious. Not much, probably. She would be left untouched, perhaps the single most significant symbol of Voldemort's new reign. She would continue to harbor students, only, as had happened this year, they would be taught to destroy, not to preserve. She would continue to be powerless to guide them, as she had been for the last thousand-odd years.
The charm hadn't done was much as she had hoped. Yes, it had worked, her consciousness had been transferred, but she was not in control. She would have done more research, but her time had been running out, and she couldn't have risked putting it off any longer. So now she was a weak goddess, a bystander really, all-seeing and all-knowing but condemned to do nothing but watch when the sky fell.
He didn't realize how torturous it was, living forever, or he wouldn't seek it. She didn't regret her choice, but she suffered during times like this, when her impotence was most costly. Watching Dumbledore die, seeing the Carrows torture those who would not perform the curse themselves, it nearly broke her.
She wasn't really immortal. If the castle was destroyed, in all likelihood she would be too. Or maybe she would live on in the rubble, her soul forever bound to any scrap of the school that remained. She wasn't eager to find out, so she willed her children her loyalty and her faith, her determination and her pride.
Each of the founders had left something with the school, something that would last beyond their mortal lives. Gryffindor had left his sword, for the bravest to wield. Slytherin left behind his secret chamber and the monster within, in the hope that his heir would finish his despicable work. Ravenclaw, always having to show up the others, left both her diadem and her daughter, two treasures of wisdom.
Hufflepuff had left her soul. She could only hope that it would prove to be enough.