Dobby woke up in front of a house with a large gnome on its front lawn. Dobby hated gnomes, so he figured he'd better leave. He walked over to the next house, realizing that he had four large bruises on his face, and felt very angry towards gnomes. Dobby wasn't the easiest house elf in the Malfoy manor basement, but he was not, as he'd heard on the radio, "a hater." But he felt himself becoming a hater of gnomes. He gathered himself and knocked on the next door.
"Hello, hi, my name is Dobby Macbeth, and I am looking for a room to rent out. I am a very good roommate. I can help with the cleaning," he began.
"Ugh, look, it's that dreadful gnome in the neighbor's lawn!" The woman complained at Dobby, loudly enough for the neighbor to hear.
"Yes, Dobby too believes that gnome is hideous," Dobby lamented, and was glad to have someone to commiserate with. The tall woman peered down at Dobby. Dobby recognized her as Harry Potter's godmother.
"You're looking for a room?" Petunia asked.
"Yes," Dobby said after a moment.
"And you'll help out with the cleaning?" The woman asked skeptically.
"Yes," Dobby answered earnestly.
"And you hate lawn gnomes?" The woman asked, filling out a renter's application that she pulled from her pockets.
"And many other things," Dobby said, thinking of the things he hated. Grass that was taller than him, penny boards, longboarders who didn't know how to ollie, any robe that was more purple than black, cauldrons too small for him to sleep in, the Police (both the band and the institution), smokers who couldn't refill a lighter, poodles, vampires, people who acted like watching reality TVmeant he was dumb. His brain went on and on, listing all the things he hated. The woman at the door was not speaking, so Dobby assumed she was thinking of things she hated as well.
"Hmm, fine, we have an extra room," the woman sneered down at Dobby. Dobby could tell it was the warmest facial expression the woman could muster. "Come back tomorrow with your things and we'll get you settled in."
"This is everything I own," he replied. The woman looked down at Dobby and sneered in a less warm way. She made a small humming noise, like what a particularly old refrigerator might make once it was turned on after years of no use. The woman led Dobby inside. She took him upstairs to a sad looking room with a bird cage, a TV, and the box set of Sex and the City. "You can stay here."
Dobby was flustered at the woman's words. His mouth moved up and down, but no words came out. As soon as he realized he was doing this, he shut his mouth abruptly. What if the woman decided to put her finger in his mouth?
"This is too much. I don't need this much space. Please, don't you have a spare cabinet? Perhaps there is room under the porch? Why, even if you had a shoe rack, I could fit there instead of a single pair of shoes!"
The woman looked down at Dobby once more.
"Well, Vernon did say he'd like some space to store his extra drills. So as long as you'll still pay the same and do the same amount of cleaning..." Dobby eagerly shook his head yes. He would never miss an opportunity for more cleaning.
Petunia took Dobby by the hand and led him downstairs. "Here's the old cupboard. The orphan boy used to live here, but then he started complaining."
"I'll never complain. Except if there is a gnome on the lawn," Dobby said earnestly. He thought to himself that he'd hunt down every person involved in the making of the Gnomeo and Juliet movie if he could, starting and ending with James Corden. Really, Dobby just wanted James Corden dead. And he was in the right about that.
"Well then, here's home," the woman said, as if she had just swallowed a bee. For all Dobby knew, she had just swallowed a bee. He was being quite impolite by not helping her in any way and just standing around thinking about murdering famed British actor James Corden. Dobby thought he was probably famous for being the only British actor who made more than a million pounds yet had not been in Harry Potter. And say what you want about Dumbledore and his "HARRY DIDYA PUT YA NAME IN THE GOBLET,"' the casting director got one thing right: excluding James Corden. Just then, Dobby noticed that Petunia had spit out the bee and resumed her usual dour look.
Dobby beamed up at her. There were several spiders. Dobby was standing on broken teacups. It was at least 15 degrees Celsius hotter inside the cupboard than outside. It smelled like Harry had to have pissed in the closet - there was a terribly salty smell in the air. Dobby loved it. It was big enough that he could dance and feel like he was in da club. The walls were close enough that he'd feel like an aggressive straight man was grinding on him at all times. The lighting was dark enough that he'd never be able to read. There were no electrical outlets. He immediately went to make a bed out of the broken bits of teacups. He figured as long as he bled a little, he'd still have the spirit of a house elf.