Baker Baker

Baker Baker

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The rest of the house-elves won't even acknowledge my existence anymore. They only put up with me because you were here, now they look at me like one of those hats Hermione used to make. I just sit here, looking at the fire and drinking butterbeer. Sometimes I run out, and then I have to break into the cooking sherry. I even had to make due with the vanilla one time. It gave me the shakes something awful. All I eat anymore is the bits that fall off the tables onto the floor. I remember how I used to cut the crusts off all of Master's sandwiches. Master didn't like crusts. Thinking off all that just makes me sad again. You aren't here to put me to bed anymore, so I guess I'll just stay here drinking until I pass out, like every other night since you've gone.

My problems all began the day Master Crouch gave me those clothes. I hadn't even done anything wrong. Master Barty had to be taken away from the camp, and that's what I did. Master was so angry with me. Master Barty had been getting stronger. I thought I could keep control of him, like I always had, but I didn't know that he saw still so loyal to the Dark Lord. I couldn't give away Master's secrets, so I was forced to take the clothes and go. I should have just thrown myself under the Knight Bus and been done with it. Then I met you, and you said you would take care of me. You said you had gotten a job at Hogwarts, and that you could get me on as well. I didn't know what to do, so I went with you. I didn't have much choice, since I had nowhere else to go.

Baker baker baking a cake

Make me a day

Make me whole again

And I wonder

What's in a day?

What's in your cake this time?

I always did hate it here. My place is with Master Crouch, but he's dead now. I should then have gone on to serve Master Barty, but he's dead too. No more Masters for Winky. What would my ancestors think if they knew I had nobody left to serve? Oh the shame! They'd say, "Winky is a bad elf!" I know I am, and I am properly ashamed of myself. I have failed the Crouch family. Oh Master, please forgive me! Winky did her best!

This has all been Harry Potter's fault. Even before he took Dobby away from me, he had already ruined him. Giving Dobby his freedom was the worst thing he could have done. Dobby let freedom go to his head, gave him ideas above his station. No self respecting house-elf should want payment for their services. We live to serve our Masters. That wasn't good enough for Dobby though, not after he got that damn sock. And then when Harry got married to Hermione after they graduated, he invited Dobby to go live with them. I told him not to go, that Dumbledore was his Master now, and that he must stay. But Dobby said that he could go where he liked. I told him good riddance then. I was just so angry. I never thought he'd really go.

I guess you heard he's gone to L.A.

He says that behind my eyes I'm hiding

And he tells me I pushed him away

That my heart's been hard to find

Here

There must be something

Here

There must be something

Here

Here

Dobby wanted me to go with him. Thanks to Hermione's S.P.E.W. campaign, house-elves could get married now. We could even start our own family together. Dobby said that things would be better in California. The weather was sunny, and they had a lot of places I could go to get over my butterbeer addiction. Dobby said that over there we wouldn't stand out as much. Apparently they had all sorts of things living in California. Dobby had it all planned out for us. I was scared; no member of my family had ever left Hogsmeade, let alone the country. I thought that by saying that I couldn't leave, Dobby would understand and stay with me. But Dobby said he couldn't stay. Dobby had made up his mind to leave everything behind, including me.

Dobby begged me to go, and I begged Dobby to stay. Why couldn't Dobby ever be happy with how things were? A good house-elf should welcome tedium; it's the sign of a well organized house. Not Dobby though. Dobby kept talking about seeing Beverly Hills, and Holly Wood. It was at that moment I knew why Dobby was really leaving me. I knew I could never compete against two different women. I was just drunk old Winky, everyman's leavings. I told Dobby that he had obviously already made his mind up. Dobby said he guessed he had. When Dobby was packing his stuff in that old flour sack, I thought my heart would break. Dobby was really leaving me, and all I could do was watch him go.

Baker baker can you explain

If truly his heart

Was made of icing

And I wonder

How mine could taste

Maybe we could change his mind

I didn't go to the wedding. Everybody else did, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I think I was the only one left in the whole castle. Even Peeves had gone, although I think it was mostly to cause trouble. I wandered around the whole school, remembering all the times Dobby would return from cleaning Gryffindor common room, a tower of hats on his head. I can laugh about it now, although at the time it felt like you were flaunting the fact that you could take clothes. The other house-elves wouldn't go near them; they all thought you were mad.

You came back one last time before you left, to see if I would change my mind. I've regretted every day that I didn't go with you, but I was still too angry with you. Dobby said he would keep in touch, that Dobby would never forget me. Dobby never has. Those first few days without you were the hardest. I missed Dobby's big brown eyes, looking down at me when you would carry me back to my orange crate bed. I missed you making sure I passed out on my stomach, so I wouldn't choke to death. I even missed how you used to water down my butterbeer. Without Dobby I can drink around the clock, and that's exactly what I've done since.

I know you're late

For your next parade

You came to make sure

That I'm not running

Well I ran from him

In all kinds of ways

Guess it was his turn this time

Time

Thought I'd made friends with

Time

Thought we'd be flying

Maybe not this time

I haven't drunk as much as I usually do by this time of day. I've been reading your last letter over and over again. The Potter's third child has been born. It's a boy, and they've named him Ron, after their best friend. Their twins have started something called "Kindergarten." It must be a magic school they have over there. Dobby says that he's worn out from running around after them all. Lucky him. Dobby also says he's started seeing someone. Some woman named Anna Nichole something. Dobby said she's used to old bald headed wrinkled things. I can't help but get a lump in my throat. I should be the one Dobby is with, not some Muggle woman!

Dobby always ends his letters the same, "Please come visit soon." In my rare sober moments I consider this, but I never want him to see me this way. So, I always send my responses the same, "Please don't come to visit." I want him to keep the old image of me in his mind, the one before I began my race to oblivion. Now that I've read Dobby's letter, I roll it up and put it into one of the empty bottles. I've got plenty to fill up. Now I think I'll get caught up on my drinking. It's the only way to stop the voices in my head, and the pains in my heart. I love you Dobby, and I always will.

Baker baker baking a cake

Make me a day

Make me whole again

And I wonder

If he's ok

If you see him

Say hi