Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

A No-Maj? Teen—what are you up to?

TINA

He’s sick—it’s a long story—Mr. Scamander has lost something, I’m going to help him find it.

Jacob suddenly staggers, very sweaty and unwell. Queenie runs to him as Tina hovers, also worried.

QUEENIE

(as Jacob falls back onto a sofa)

You need to sit down, honey.

Hey—

(reading his mind)

—he hasn’t eaten all day.

And—

(reading his mind)

—aw, that’s rough,

(reading his mind)

—he didn’t get the money he wanted for his bakery. You bake, honey? I love to cook.

Newt is watching Queenie from his spot by the window, his scientific attention now aroused.

NEWT

You’re a Legilimens?

QUEENIE

Uh-huh, yeah. But I always have trouble with your kind. Brits. It’s the accent.

JACOB

(cottoning on, appalled)

You know how to read minds?

QUEENIE

Aw, don’t worry, honey. Most guys think what you was thinking, first time they see me.

Queenie playfully gestures toward Jacob with her wand.

QUEENIE

Now, you need food.

Newt looks out the window and sees a Billywig fly past—he’s nervous, impatient to get out and find his creatures.

Tina and Queenie busy themselves in the kitchen. Ingredients come floating out of cupboards as Queenie enchants them into the components of a meal—carrots and apples chop themselves, pastry rolls itself, and pans stir.

QUEENIE

(to Tina)

Hot dog . . . again?

TINA

Don’t read my mind!

QUEENIE

Not a very wholesome lunch.

Tina points her wand at the cupboards. Dishes, assorted cutlery, and glasses come flying out, setting themselves on the table with a little prodding from Tina’s wand. Jacob, half-fascinated, half-terrified, staggers toward the table.

ANGLE ON NEWT, his hand on the doorknob.

QUEENIE

(artless)

Hey, Mr. Scamander, you prefer pie or strudel?

All look at Newt, who, embarrassed, removes his hand from the doorknob.

NEWT

I really don’t have a preference.

Tina stares at Newt: Confrontational, but also disappointed and hurt.

Jacob is already seated at the table, tucking his napkin into his shirt.

QUEENIE

(reading Jacob’s mind)

You prefer strudel, huh, honey? Strudel it is.

Jacob nods with excited enthusiasm. Queenie grins back, delighted.

With a flick of her wand, Queenie sends raisins, apples, and pastry flying into the air. The concoction neatly wraps itself up into a cylindrical pie, baking on the spot, complete with ornate decoration and a dusting of sugar. Jacob takes a deep breath in: Heaven.

Tina lights candles on the table—the meal is ready.

FOCUS ON NEWT’S POCKET—a small squeak, and Pickett pokes his head out, curious.

TINA

Well, sit down, Mr. Scamander, we’re not going to poison you.

Newt, still hovering near the door, looks somewhat charmed by the situation. Jacob glares at him subtly, willing him to sit down.

SCENE 42

EXT. BROADWAY—NIGHT

Credence is walking alone through a worldly crowd of late-night diners and theatergoers. Traffic roars past. He is trying to give out leaflets but is met with only incredulity and faint derision.