J. Rowling - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

NEWT

(smiling to himself)

Probably shouldn’t let him loose in here, though.

Newt opens the door of his shed and walks through.

NEWT

Come on.

Jacob, now thoroughly startled, follows him out.

The perimeter of the leather case is dimly visible, but the place has swollen to the size of a small aircraft hangar. It contains what appears to be a safari park in miniature. Each of Newt’s creatures has its own perfect, magically realized habitat.

Jacob steps into this world, totally amazed.

Newt is standing in the nearest habitat—a slice of Arizona desert. This area contains a magnificent Thunderbird—a creature like a large albatross, its glorious wings shimmering with cloud- and sun-like patterns. One of its legs is rubbed raw and bloody—it has obviously been chained previously.

As the Thunderbird flaps its wings, its habitat fills with a torrential downpour, thunder, and lightning. Newt uses his wand to create a magical umbrella, shielding him from the rain.

NEWT

(eyes on the Thunderbird up high)

Come on—come on . . . Down you come . . . Come on.

Slowly the Thunderbird calms itself, lowering down to stand on a large rock in front of Newt. As it does, the rain dies down and is replaced by a brilliant, hot sunshine.

Newt puts his wand away and produces a handful of grubs from his pocket. The Thunderbird watches intently.

Newt strokes the Thunderbird with his free hand, calming him, affectionate.

NEWT

Oh, thank Paracelsus. If you’d have got out that could have been quite catastrophic.

(to Jacob)

You see, he’s the real reason I came to America. To bring Frank home.

Jacob, still staring, steps slowly forward. In reaction, the Thunderbird starts to flap his wings, agitated.

NEWT

(to Jacob)

No, sorry—stay there—he’s a wee bit sensitive to strangers.

(to the Thunderbird, calming)

Here you are—here you are.

(to Jacob)

He was trafficked, you see. I found him in Egypt, he was all chained up. Couldn’t leave him there, had to bring him back. I’m going to put you back where you belong, aren’t I, Frank. To the wilds of Arizona.

Newt, his face full of hope and expectation, hugs Frank’s head. Then, grinning, he casts the handful of grubs high into the air. Frank soars majestically upward after them, sunlight bursting from his wings.

Newt watches him fly with love and pride. Then he turns, puts his hands to his mouth, and roars, beast-like, toward another area of the case.

Newt moves past Jacob, grabbing the bucket of meat.

Jacob stumbles after him as several Doxys buzz around his head. Dazed, he swats them out of the way. Behind him a large dung beetle rolls a giant ball of dung.

We hear Newt roar loudly again. Jacob hurries toward the sound, finding Newt in a sandy, moonlit territory.

NEWT

(under his breath)

Ah—here they come.

JACOB

Here who comes?

NEWT

The Graphorns.

A large creature comes charging into sight: A Graphorn—built like a saber-toothed tiger but with slimy tentacles at its mouth. Jacob screams and tries to back off, but Newt grabs hold of his arm, stopping him.

NEWT

You’re all right. You’re all right.

The Graphorn moves closer to Newt.

NEWT

(stroking the Graphorn)

Hello, hello!

The Graphorn’s strange slimy tentacles rest on Newt’s shoulder, seeming to embrace him.

NEWT

So they’re the last breeding pair in existence. If I hadn’t managed to rescue them, that could have been the end of Graphorns—forever.

A younger Graphorn trots straight up to Jacob and begins licking his hand, circling him curiously. He stares down at it, then gently reaches out and strokes its head. Newt watches Jacob, pleased.

NEWT

All right.

Newt throws a piece of meat into the enclosure, which is hastily chased and consumed by the young Graphorn.

JACOB

So what, you—you rescue these creatures?

NEWT

Yes, that’s right. Rescue, nurture, and protect them, and I’m gently trying to educate my fellow wizards about them.

A tiny bright pink bird, the Fwooper, flies past and comes to rest on a little perch, suspended from midair.

Newt heads up a small ramp of stairs.

NEWT

(to Jacob)

Come on.

They enter a bamboo wood, ducking and diving through the trees. Newt calls out:

NEWT

Titus? Finn? Poppy, Marlow, Tom?

They emerge into a sunlit glade, Newt producing Pickett from his pocket and holding him perched on his hand.

NEWT

(to Jacob)

He had a cold. He needed some body warmth.

JACOB

Aw.

They move toward a small tree bathed in sunlight. At their approach, a clan of Bowtruckles chatters and rushes out of the leaves.

Newt extends his arm toward the tree, trying to persuade Pickett to rejoin the others. The Bowtruckles clack noisily when they see Pickett.

NEWT

Right, on you hop.

Pickett steadfastly refuses to leave Newt’s arm.

NEWT

(to Jacob)

See, he has some attachment issues.

(to Pickett)

Now, come on, Pickett. Pickett. No, they’re not going to bully you . . . Now, come on. Pickett!

Pickett clings by his spindly hands to one of Newt’s fingers, desperate not to return to the tree. Newt finally resigns himself.

NEWT

All right. But that is exactly why they accuse me of favoritism . . .

Newt puts Pickett onto his shoulder and turns. On seeing a large, round, empty nest, he looks concerned.

NEWT

(devastated)

I wonder where Dougal’s gone.

From within a nearby nest, we hear chirping sounds.

NEWT

All right, I’m coming . . . I’m coming, Mum’s here—Mum’s here.

Newt reaches into the nest and scoops up a baby Occamy.

NEWT

Ah—hello, you—let me take a look at you.

JACOB

I know these guys.

NEWT

New Occamy.

(to Jacob)

Your Occamy.

JACOB

What do you mean? My Occamy?

NEWT

Yes—do you want to . . . ?

Newt proffers the Occamy to Jacob.

JACOB

Oh wow . . . Yeah, sure. Okay . . . Ah-ha.

Jacob holds the newborn creature gently in his hands and stares. As he moves to stroke its head, the Occamy moves to nip him. Jacob starts backward.

NEWT

Ah no, sorry—don’t pet them. They learn to defend themselves early. See, their shells are made of silver so they’re incredibly valuable.

Newt feeds the other babies in the nest.

JACOB

Okay . . .

NEWT