Hello, good sir. I will be auditioning for the part of Ron Swanson. I will not be singing because that is a waste of time. Instead, I will be handcrafting a chair from this fine piece of cedar. If I were to sing, however, it would be a heartwrenching rendition of a song that I wrote. It is called “Silence.” It has no words and no music. Thank you. I will proceed now.
Tina Goldstein takes care of everyone. She can’t entirely help it, after basically raising Queenie, being head girl at the Pukwudgie house at Ilvermony, one of the oldest of the new group of Aurors in training. Tina Goldstein is the one who you go to when you need a spare charmed handkerchief, a nickel for a cup of coffee, an extra warming spell, a willing shoulder to listen to or tea and sympathy.
“You mother everyone,” says Queenie, not without a certain gentle sisterly exasperation. “How’re you ever gonna get a fella if you keep acting like everyone’s older sister?”
“I don’t need a fella,” says Tina with all the dignity she can muster. “Anyways, it’s against regulations to date a fellow Auror, you know that.”
“There’s a lot more fellas out there than just Aurors, you know,” Queenie retorts.
“Yeah, like house elves,” says Tina cynically. “Maybe one of those goblins I arrested last week.”
Queenie sighs, rolls her eyes, lifts her hands in the air dramatically. “What’s going to happen to you when I’m gone?” she asks the ceiling theatrically, an alarmingly good imitation of Tina herself, to which Tina responds by spelling a cushion to hit her ridiculous little sister in the face.
Newt Scamander needs a damn leash, also possibly a knock over the head, though in the muddle after the Barebones and Graves affair (as it’s being referred to now), he looks he’s already gotten several of those.
Tina, being now a newly restored Auror (she hopes?), assumes control of over the situation, once she gets a nod of confirmation from Madame Seraphina. She sets Aurors to restore damage to the buildings, others to mend the streets where the Obscurial (Credence, that was Credence, she must not forget) tore them apart, she sends for healers to tend to Newt, who looks more battered than any one person should and wishes hopelessly, uselessly, for something to mend that shattered look on her little sister’s face.