Dobby was injured. He felt pain in his chest.
What was it?
It hurt. Bad. But he couldn't move any of his body.
It was dark. He tried calling for the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Master Harry..." He croaked out. His only reply was a scrap and a pat. Then a large thing was placed on him weighing the dirt down.
It hurt. The pressure made the pain unbearable. He couldn't see. What was happening? He thought he could hear crying but it must be his imagination. He was tired, so very tired.
So Dobby, the free and brave house elf, went to sleep, never to wake up again.