The Untold Tale of Beedle The Bard - Part 5

Once life has run its course Then death greets us as an old friend The old die to make way for the new Creation born of journey's end Father. How is she? Worse. And the tales? Finished. I'm going to give them to her tonight. So soon? There may not be another chance. The healers are with her now. And Orelin as well. The Potter boy is still here? It's nearly dawn. He's been with her all night, holding her hand. He's sweet on her. He blames himself. He thinks it's his fault. He thinks his teasing made her ill. The truth is, this has been coming since the day she was born. I knew even then, when I held her in my arms for the first time. She was so small. So weak. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing them both. Sir? It can't be. I'm sorry sir, but we can't have any visitors in the room right now. Her condition is very delicate. Of course. Orelin, it's time for you to go. She's going to be all right, isn't she? Of course she is. When she wakes up, will you tell her that I… I mean… Will you tell her that I'm sorry? Of course. How is she? There is little more we can do for her, but we will make her comfortable. She's too young. Far too young. May I go and see her? She is resting now. But when she wakes, you may go in and say your final farewells. You will let us know when that time comes? Of course, sir. This is it. I hoped there would be more time. But at least the Tales are done. No. The Tales are not finished. Not yet. Of course they are, Father. What do you mean they're not finished? Beedle, you know that woman. What? The healer. You've seen her before. Have I? Yes, of course. Think. You may have only seen her briefly, only for a moment, but she has been there. She stood by your mother's bedside as she lay dying of cholera. She attended Mary the night Amata was born- Father! You must have her confused with… Beedle, sit down. I am going to tell you one last tale, but it must be included in your book before it's too late. Father, there may not be enough time- Hear me now, young man. If you value your daughter's life, you will sit and you will listen. Once, long ago, such a long time ago, there were three brothers traveling along a deserted road at twilight. We understand you river We understand you now You're just a simple demon sent to test us But let me tell you monster you won't best us Erect a bridge so holy So stable and so bold Our magic gives us power so superior We deem this river lowly and inferior Ahhhh Oh you, ripe with learned magic You are unrivaled in your cunning, wit, and skill You have me bested, and I offer you reward So ask of me what you will Oh noble Death As reward for my genius I ask of you a wand A tool superb That will win any fight for me T'will never be defeated With this branch of elder I make you this wand Use it well Oh cunning Death As reward for my brilliance I ask of you a gift The breath of life To take others back from you And return them to this world With this stone from fen I grant you this gift Use it well And what is it you ask of me, my brother? Oh humble death This is all that I ask of you An amateur request Just leave me be Let me live an abundant life Careless, clear, and free With this cloak born of me I grant you this request Use it well So the three walked out of my presence Their doom impending with each and every waking breath Yes I will find them, I will follow where they go Retribution must come in death Avada Kedavra! Behold this wand of endless strength Achieved at greatest length Stolen from beyond the veil Behold, it can win any fight So challenge me tonight I promise you that you will fail And so this afternoon for show I killed my greatest foe Simply because I could So come Won't you come and raise a stein to this wand of mine This wand made out of elder wood And if I had this wand divine By Merlin I would shine Oh wand of elder wood But it's mine Simply mine Only mine Take my hand and never let go I'll show you wonders like you never dreamed You'll be a star on the horizon And out of hubris comes an end so harsh and cold And I took him for my own I miss you More than I ever thought I could I miss you And though I try to make good I'm consumed by the anger and consumed by the hate As I wait For you to come back from the dead. I miss you I call out from the abyss I miss you And though I long for one more kiss I'm held back by this puppeteer Held back somehow Hold me now So I can come back from the dead, ohhh Was I fool when I said forever? There's not enough time, never enough I am just a pawn in Her intervention And it will all be over by and by And by the time it is Beedle: I'm just a man Mary: I'm gonna give it my all, give it my all Beedle: And you're just a girl Mary: I would take the fall, take the fall And there is no hope for us in the world Beedle: But here we are bound Mary: And I've got nothing to lose, nothing to lose Beedle: By this thing they call love Mary: I am in love with you, love with you And I swear no harm shall come to you Was I a fool when I said forever? There's not enough time, never enough Take my hand and never let go I'll show you kindness like you never dreamed I'll be your star on the horizon And out of mourning comes consumption of the mind And I took him for my own So she searched for the youngest brother Sought out the crags and crooks of his existence And should she find him, she will take him as her own But the cloak shields him from her eye I call you my youngest brother Come to me, it is time to move on Remove your cloak, boy Let me see you as you are Come and face me like a man Beedle, that is the final tale. The ending to your book. You must call it the Tale of the Peverell Brothers. Peverell? Yes, Peverell. But why? That's impossible. The tales aren't real. They can't be real. How did your surname, our surname, become attached to such an outrageous story? No more questions. We have little time left. In a moment I'm going to take off my cloak. When I do, you must take it and give it to Amata. Why? You must trust me. Take the cloak, place it around Amata's shoulders, and she will live. You cannot promise me that! Not only will she live, but she will have a long, full life, just as I had. You must believe. Do this for me now. Consider it the last wish of a dying man. But Father, you are not dying. Oh, but I am. Take my hand and never let go I'll tell you stories like you never dreamed I'll be your star on the horizon You will take the cloak? Yes. That woman. I do know her. Yes. You finally see her for what she is. I pray to God you will not see her again until you have lived as long as I. Goodbye, my son. I promise, we will meet again. Life's just a drama And we all are the actors We cannot know what role we have yet to play So we tell our stories And we write our memoirs In the hope that we live on Live on Minstrel: Join me, join me All: And we live on Minstrel: Join me All: We are the stories We are the tales Live on!