FINALLY, the new chapter is up! Its been ages I'm sorry, I do have excuses but they're inexcsusably rubbish so we'll just skip past that part. Speaking of parts, this is 25, and thats just of this fic, not the whole Tara series, can you believe it?! If you've stuck with it this long, I take my hat off to you. Well, I don't actually have one on at the moment, I had one on earlier but I took it off, so we'll just say I took that one off to you and everyone's happy.

So, the fic. Thanks muchly as always to Helen who beta'd for me, and also to Beth for pointing out that Leroy (who, as you will see, features in this chapter) may in fact not be magical in the show - well, he is in this. And he owes his newfound magical ability to me, so he'd just better bloody watch it. That last bit was supposed to be said in a Rik Mayall-esq kinda way, but that's largely irrelevant to pretty much everything so let's get on with it.

Vince, Howard, and Bollo sat in silence on the sofa, waiting. Naboo had left the flat on the carpet over an hour ago, first to pick up Saboo, then to retrieve Tara's body.

Tonight was the night. They were going to bring Tara back.

Naboo had told them what the spell entailed, what they'd have to do, but he didn't tell them how long he'd be. So they waited. Strangely enough, their wait has been recorded as one of the all-time most nerve-wracking waits in history, after that of Hugh Pompsy-Huntington, who waited for three months for a reply to a letter sent proposing marriage to his sweetheart, before finding the letter in an old jacket pocket and realising that he'd actually posted a list of possible locations of his many missing socks.

The doorbell rang, and they all jumped rather amusingly. Recovering first, Bollo went to answer the door, and found Vienne waiting in the dim light outside. It was the small hours of the morning, and as the spell had to be performed at dawn, it was still dark outside.

'Hello Bollo.' She smiled. Even though Bollo had no special powers of his own, he could feel the apprehension surrounding her in a tight bubble. He smiled gently back, (or as gently as a large talking gorilla could manage) and bowed a little as he let her in. They'd called her knowing she'd want to know what they were doing, and would probably want to be involved, but also because the more people that were in the spell, the more firmly Tara would be tied to life.

As she reached Vince at the top of the stairs she hugged him tightly, then did the same to Howard, who was hovering awkwardly by the sofa as usual.

'Naboo?' She asked.

They shrugged. 'Soon, probably.' Said Howard.

They sat on the sofa. And waited.

Naboo and Saboo were on their way back. Tara's body was wrapped in the shroud, which, because of it's magical properties, was still its pristine white, the embroidery still glowing a little from the restoration spell they'd performed at the graveyard, protecting Tara's body until they got to the flat. Naboo was more than grateful for the shroud when they'd removed Tara from the ground – seeing her dead was bad enough, but after she'd been buried for five months? Unfortunately seeing Tara like that wasn't all he'd had to do. Just as she'd once (somewhat unknowingly) restored his energy when he'd been drained by fighting Elsie by kissing him, he had to restore her body by channelling energy into her through a kiss. Not wanting to see her face in whatever state she was in, he simply eased back the part of the shroud covering her mouth, tried not to think too hard about what he was doing, and planted his lips on hers. He felt the earth's healing energies flowing through him and into her, restoring her body to its full beauty.

On the carpet, Naboo thought about what a long time five months really was, especially as he hadn't been able to do anything much for the past couple of weeks – his tasks had all been completed and everything was ready, but they'd had to wait for the stars to align. Tonight was the night.

He remembered how nervous he'd been before the first task. That was nothing compared to how he was feeling now; it was like comparing the quality of humour in 'Married with Children' with that of 'Fawlty Towers' (not that your author is at all bitter about any tasks set in Media Studies A-level in any way). When Naboo had told Saboo that he'd completed the tasks to bring Tara back, he'd looked greatly surprised, but acted highly out of character and didn't say anything, for which Naboo was grateful.

They circled in over the flat, and hovered next to Naboo's bedroom window. Between them they managed to gently carry Tara into the flat, and onto the table she'd been laid out on five months ago.

Before they could begin the spell to actually bring Tara back however, they had to cast a memory modification spell, to make the world forget that Tara had been dead for all this time, otherwise it could 'throw up all kinds of problems that I just don't want to have to deal with', according to a weary Naboo.

'So everyone's just gonna forget?' asked Vince.

'Everyone outside this room, yeah.'

'Except the Board of Shaman.' Added Saboo, eyeing Naboo with slight suspicion, as though he somehow expected him to try and pull a fast one or something.

'Oh right yeah, the board will still know, they can see through all sorts of masking spells. Apparently you wouldn't believe the stuff coming off of Downing Street. But this spell just helps people forget stuff that they don't really want to know anyway, or don't care about – so people forget that someone close to them has died, or banks forget that someone has been crossed off their lists.'

The spell was quick and easy for Naboo and Saboo to perform, relying as it did on people's wish to forget the bad things in life. The others felt more than saw a circular wave of energy quickly burst outwards from the centre of the room and out through the walls, presumably to alter the world's memory.

Saboo eyed the others, then retreated to Naboo's bedroom where his own carpet was waiting outside the window; it had been fitted with a homing device so that it was summoned whenever Saboo flicked the feather in his hat in a particularly pretentious manner.

'You're leaving?' asked Naboo, who had followed him in.

'You know I cannot stay if I'm not a part of the spell.' Naboo nodded. 'Remember Naboo – once the spell is begun, it should be done perfectly, and most important of all, uninterrupted.'

'I know.'

Saboo stood regarding him for a moment longer, a strange look on his face. 'Good luck, Naboo.' He turned and swept quickly towards the window.

'Saboo-' Called Naboo, causing the taller shaman to turn, one leg hanging out of the window, giving him the look of a sixteenth-century cat burglar. 'Th-thank you.'

Saboo nodded briefly, then flew into the night, a shadow against the rapidly lightening sky.

The others were waiting for him, and he silently indicated to Vince to help him unwrap Tara's body. The process was similar to when they originally wrapped her, only backwards. The restoration spell worked well, and Tara looked just as she had when they'd first wrapped her, looking as though she was asleep, only far paler than usual.

Naboo glanced out of the window, and saw that the sky was quickly approaching dawn, the time at which the spell must reach its end at, and felt glad that they'd prepared everything beforehand. It was time to begin.

Leroy wandered the streets, bored. There was never anyone around this time in the morning. The only reason he was up was because of an accident years ago with an untested potion and a cup of coffee, the result of which being that he needed only about three hours of sleep a week, which he usually chose to take on Sunday afternoons, as there was really nothing else to do during that time. One of the unfortunate side effects of the accident was also that once a month he turned into a llama with green hair and a strange smell of cabbage, but he strangely chose to combat this with a large and slightly effeminate hat, and no-one bothered to question him about it.

Wandering through the empty streets, he wondered if Naboo was awake – the Moomins would be on soon – and if he would be interested in a game of 'replace the feather on Saboo's hat with something ridiculous.'

They assembled silently around the table where Tara lay, Bollo and Vienne at her feet, Vince on her right and Howard at her left. Naboo stood at her head, and lifted the vase from his last task. He held it aloft over Tara, then slowly took his hands away from it. The vase stayed hovering in the air, spinning very slowly. He nodded for the rest of them to join hands, and once again used his mind to add ingredients to the vase, being careful to get the exact right amounts in the exact right order – the slightest thing going wrong would ruin the whole spell.

Leroy's breath misted in front of him, rising through the air in the dark shadows of the buildings. He crossed the street and pulled his dark cloak closer around himself in an attempt to shield himself from the eyes of a group of marauding chavs. It didn't work.

'Oi, you!'

He stopped, and turned. They crossed the street towards him, fanning out and reminding him of David Attenborough documentaries. The alpha male leads the pack towards their prey, as the less dominant members surround the poor unfortunate who is about to undergo the discomfort of conversing with those of an unimaginably lower mental capability.

'Yes?'

'What you looking at?' asked the leader (who was sporting a rather distracting monobrow) aggressively.

'I believe I'm looking at the person who addressed me. Is this not so?' Leroy liked to talk a little more eloquently than usual when conversing with chavs, but wasn't sure why.

'You givin' me cheek man?'

'Not as far as I'm aware, why?'

'You better not be givin' me no cheek man, that's disrespecting me yeah?'

Leroy had been getting bored wandering the streets, and although the chav mob had provided a brief distraction, he was now bored with them too, and decided to deal with them. 'Well sir I certainly didn't intend to give you 'cheek', but as you seem to be so fixated on it..' he clicked his fingers with a flourish, and the faces of all the chavs became nothing but cheeks. Bum cheeks, to be precise.

The vase was now half full with a deep swirling liquid, the presence of which was slightly inexplicable to the others seeing as how most of the ingredients Naboo had added were power- or plant-based, but that's magic for you.

Vince, Howard, Bollo and Vienne had each learnt parts of the spell as cues to when they had to do what, like actors learning lines except this was oh-too-real. And there was no retake if one of them corpsed, if you'll excuse the poor choice of words there.

'…Kaluka mashu ryvita…' chanted Naboo, their cue to release each others hands and pick up the small bowls that were in front of them, as well as a small item they'd each been asked to find, something that represented their relationship with Tara.

They held the bowls up in front of them, in a manner which would have been slightly comical and reminiscent of 'Oliver' had the occasion not been so solemn. Naboo tilted the vase telekinetically, pouring out an equal amount into each bowl. He chanted the next line of the spell, their cue to drop their items into their own bowls.

Vienne hadn't had much trouble thinking of anything to use, it was just a matter of finding it. The identity bracelet given to Tara when she was born had been stored carefully in a metal box with other keepsakes. She'd wanted to hold onto it, but if it came down to that or having Tara back, there was no contest.

Bollo had struggled rather more, but eventually settled on an embroidered flower, cut from the shroud that he'd been the one to collect after her death. Tara was like a flower to him, innocent, full of life, and with deep roots in nature.

Howard, bless him, had chosen a teabag. Not because he was obsessed with tea or anything like that, simply because he associated the same things with tea as he did Tara. Warmth, comfort, reliability.

Ever the punk, Vince had chosen a safety pin. To him Tara was safety, and he hoped he meant the same to her – all these years, they'd done all they could to look after each other. The reason it was a safety pin of course, was that Vince also knew that Tara was not one you'd want to get on the wrong side of, however rarely such an occasion might occur.

Naboo dropped his heart-shaped glass bead into his bowl, and they each drank their potion, which was cold to the lips, but warmed quickly as they swallowed it. Each of them seemed to glow with a golden-white light for a moment, but the moment was so brief they wondered if they'd dreamt it.

This was Naboo's road. Studying the houses, Leroy's eye was drawn to one in particular, it there was soft light in the front window, although it was beginning to show up less because of the rapidly lightening sky. The sun would be peeping over the horizon in a few minutes. This was Naboo's house.

They each also had something with which to pierce their own skin; the final part of the spell was to donate part of their own 'lives', or blood, to be more precise, to Tara, to replace the life taken by the Fates.

They each set down their bowls and took up the razor or knife, looking to each other for their cue. As one, they took a deep breath.

A front door slamming down the road made him jump, and he turned to see a man clutching a briefcase and hurrying towards the tube station around the corner, glancing at his watch and swearing quietly.

Leroy laughed quietly, and shook his head at the absurdity of the world. He once more raised his hand to knock on the door, wondering if he should do it loudly or quietly – he didn't want to do it so quiet that it wasn't heard, but not so loud as to wake the whole house. Perhaps he should just unlock the door magically and let himself in, he was sure Naboo wouldn't mind. Yes, he'd do that.

What time was it? He didn't want to let himself into the apartment without Naboo being awake, Vince, Howard and Bollo were good blokes but he wasn't sure they'd be all too pleased about him wandering in uninvited at dawn.

Oh that was alright, it was half pas- his eye had caught the date, displayed on a little box on the right. The twenty-eighth. Shit! This morning he had to be at the airport to pick up a visiting dignitary from his home planet of Koojip, neighbour to Xooberon, who was visiting London via Fiji. Sod Naboo and his Moomins, he had to run!

Chanting quietly together, they made cuts on their forefingers and held them over Tara – Bollo and Vienne's blood dropped onto Tara's feet, Howard and Vince's onto her hands, Naboo's on her forehead. The drops lingered on her skin for a few moments before glowing that same whitish gold, and fading into her. That was it. The end of the spell.

Vince looked around. 'It hasn't-'

Tara's eyes flew open as she inhaled suddenly and deeply, interrupting Vince rather rudely. Her eyes closed again, and for a moment they thought it was some kind of fluke, until they noticed her chest rising and falling gently.

She was breathing.

Tara was alive.

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