Dorset County, a lush forest.
It is rarely visited by humans, save for the beautiful wooden house nestled in the heart of the woods, where Newt Scamander, the renowned expert on Magical Creatures, resides.
In the early morning, a loud noise shatters the peaceful silence of the forest.
In the trees nearby, a Fwooper pokes its head out, while a few strange-looking beetles crawl from one tree hole to another in a neat line. Dobby nervously surveys his surroundings. Since arriving, he's had a strange sense of danger—an eerie shiver that made him want to bolt far from this place.
Fortunately, the feeling faded as quickly as it came, like it had never been there at all.
Kyle led Dobby along a cobbled path, knocked on the door, and stepped into the cozy cottage. Newt and Tina had been informed in advance and were waiting in the room.
"My dear, is this the House-elf you mentioned in your letter?" Tina asked, glancing at the pair with a smile.
"Hello, my dear lady. My name is Dobby, a free House-elf," Dobby said, bowing low.
"Hello, Dobby, lovely to meet you," Tina replied warmly.
Dobby's face lit up with excitement, and he bowed again, nearly brushing his long nose against the floor. Tina was open to the idea of Kyle bringing a House-elf along; as he had written in his letter, Newt was getting on in years, and an extra set of hands would be helpful.
Newt, however, didn't quite agree.
He firmly believed he was still fully capable of caring for his creatures on his own and didn't need any help. But, to his dismay, his opinion hadn't been sought out, and sulking in the corner now wasn't getting him anywhere.
The first meeting was cheerful enough. Tina walked over to Dobby and said, "I'm happy to hire you. Your job will be to look after some particularly challenging Magical Creatures."
"No problem! Dobby has taken care of Crups and Peacocks before," Dobby replied eagerly.
Crups? Peacocks?
Tina raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Kyle. "You didn't explain anything to him beforehand?"
"I did," Kyle replied, hands raised in defense, "but he was too excited to really listen."
"Never mind…"
Tina waved her hand dismissively, and Newt instinctively opened his suitcase and placed it on the ground.
"Come with me; I'll show you around first," she said to Dobby. "This job might not be what you're expecting. Once you've seen everything, you can decide whether to stay."
Tina stepped into the suitcase.
Dobby hesitated, feeling slightly insulted. After all, it was just taking care of Magical Creatures. He was experienced enough to handle anything this tiny suitcase could hold, maybe a kitten or a puppy at most.
He had managed to feed, bathe, and brush the Crup at his previous master's home, even though it tried to bite him every single time. Dobby couldn't imagine an animal more aggressive than a Crup.
Besides, these people were so kind and respectful toward him, so their creatures must be gentle too
...
"Oh!"
Just as he was mulling over his thoughts, Dobby followed Tina into the suitcase. In an instant, he jumped back in fright, stumbling to the ground. His short legs flailed as he rolled over several times, finally scrambling into a corner.
That dreadful feeling he'd sensed at the door was back—only now, it was even stronger!
Gazing at the countless Magical Creatures around him, Dobby's vision darkened, and he nearly fainted. Especially unsettling was the six-legged creature perched on a cliff nearby. It looked like a cat, but much, much larger. Whatever it was, those deep blue eyes were fixed on him, as if seeing straight through him, leaving him feeling like a helpless turkey ready for the oven. Suddenly, his ambition to be an Outstanding House-elf seemed less appealing.
"As you can see," said Tina, "your job would be to assist Newt in caring for the Magical Creatures, and this is just a small part of it. What do you say?"
Dobby's ears perked up. Had he heard right? Not a servant, but an assistant to a wizard?
He picked himself up, his legs steadying. "My lady, Dobby would like to be an assistant," he said resolutely.
"Think carefully," Tina cautioned, giving him a serious look. "This is only a small part of it. Further on, there are Dragons, Nundus, and Kelpies…"
Dobby shivered at the mention of Dragons, but held his ground. "Dobby can do it! Dobby is not afraid of Dragons!"
Tina laughed. Truthfully, with Newt around, there was no real danger; most of the work would be routine. After all, Jacob Kowalski—an ordinary muggle—had been able to manage just fine. House-elves were certainly capable too, as long as they didn't faint at the sight of a Dragon.
"Now, onto the matter of salary," Tina continued.
Dobby's eyes lit up.
"How about twenty Galleons a week…" Tina pondered, then settled on a number.
Dobby nearly fainted on the spot, sinking to the floor, astonished. Twenty Galleons seemed more daunting than the Dragons!
"No, no, that's too much," Dobby stammered, shaking his head furiously. He insisted on one Sickle a week.
Now it was Tina's turn to frown. Scamander's assistant earning a single Sickle a week? If word got around, people would think the Scamanders were too poor to pay their help!
"One Sickle is absolutely out of the question. The minimum is ten Galleons!" Tina declared.
Dobby, who had just managed to get back on his feet, promptly collapsed again. He tried to argue, but Tina's resolute expression silenced him. And so, the matter was settled, with Dobby accepting the ten-Galleon weekly wage without further protest.
From the side, Kyle shot him an approving thumbs-up.
The once-famous Auror who had imprisoned the "Disaster of the Wizarding World" for over seventy years needed only a firm glance to make poor Dobby concede to ten Galleons a week. Yet, it felt a bit surreal—as if the Sickle were the wizarding world's highest currency!
Next, Tina laid down a few other conditions. For example, Dobby was only permitted to work within the confines of the suitcase, never outside of it. Most critically, he was strictly forbidden from approaching the kitchen machines that made cookies and bread—not even by a single step.
Dobby agreed, naturally. He didn't really have a choice.
Newt had been standing by the whole time, saying nothing, his eyes fixed on Kyle with a peculiar expression.
"Ahem… I'm only looking out for your best interests," Kyle mumbled, feeling uncomfortable under Newt's gaze. "After all, Nicolas Flamel has a House-elf butler named Tata, and Professor Dumbledore has over a hundred House-elves making tea for him. You're friends with them; you've got to fit in."