i feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

Oralee had stopped by the Project last night, because she had been looking for a tie that Kingsley swore he had put in the laundry, and she swore that she didn’t have it, and she thought that while there was always the possibility that he would have taken it off at Lufkin, it would have made more sense if he had slipped it off at the Project, and then left it sitting on his desk. If she hadn’t have gone over there, she likely wouldn’t have realized that Hermione had been planning on spending the night on the couch in her own office, and she wouldn’t have found out that they were fighting at all.

That meant that she had insisted that Hermione sleep in the guest room. They had plenty of space, and she didn’t want her sleeping in the middle of London unprotected. That seemed foolish. It had been Audrey’s birthday yesterday, and their little girl was five now. She had made sure that they had had all of her favorites, and she had already been in bed by the time that Hermione had arrived at Gracewood last night. Oralee had said that she could stay, and she had agreed that Harry’s choice of phrasing was poor. But she also knew that spending time apart didn’t do anyone any good.

And she was curious whether or not Hermione was going to go home at any point, or if she thought that she was camping out in the guest room all weekend? She didn’t mind, really, but she thought that working it out now was better than working it out two years down the road and realizing that you should have both pulled your heads out of your asses sooner. They were two of the most stubborn people on the planet, and she thought that there was no way that Harry would come here to find her. She was going to have to go to work. And they were going to have to talk. And it was as simple as that.

She got one day. She got one day to wallow, and be mad, and that was fine. She could have one day. But Oralee didn’t think that waiting for Harry to apologize was going to work. And truth be told, Harry wasn’t the one that left. Then again, she hadn’t been the one to leave either. It was complicated, and she didn’t want to be more in the middle of it than she already was. Hermione was her friend, but she wasn’t going to choose sides in a marriage dispute. That wasn’t what anyone had done to the two of them, and she wasn’t going choose sides now.

Slipping into the kitchen she pecked Audrey on the top of the head and looked across the island at her friend. “Did you end up going to the Project after I left this morning?” There was always the possibility that she had decided to go after all. But judging by the fact that she was here, and not at home, she had a feeling that she hadn’t talked to Harry at all. Which was… Foolish, probably. But she was going to stay out of it. She had made that deal with herself. She would figure it out on her own. Hermione was smart. She was the smartest person that Oralee knew. That likely wasn’t going to last, but she would give it a shot at first, or at least she would try.

Hermione Jean Potter • 582 • oralee's outfit - no flowers

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[nospaces]

[attr="class","cbg"]

[attr="class","cbgtop"]

[attr="class","cimg"]

[attr="class","clbox"]

[attr="class","ctopline"]Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

[attr="class","cscriptorder"]sometimes i feel like giving up

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]But I just can't[break]
It isn't in my blood

[break][break]

[attr="class","cbody"]There were times throughout their relationship where being married to Harry had been downright infuriating. He was just downright infuriating sometimes. They had gotten into their fair share of fights over the years; she thought that sort of came with the territory when two incredibly stubborn people got together, especially when they both happened to be Gryffindors. But at the end of the day, they always worked it out. They always figured it out. He was the love of her life. There would never come a day when she didn’t want to figure it out.
[break][break]
Walking away wasn’t something that she did all that often. It was far more likely for her to get mad enough to throw something at him, and then he usually caught it. That usually just ended up annoying her more, but that frustration usually had the added effect of diffusing the tension. That just hadn’t happened this time around. Hermione had definitely been mad enough to throw something, but there wasn’t anything in sight to throw apart from the flowers that he had gotten her for their anniversary. She’d known that she’d regret that decision later—and she also didn’t throw things that could actually hurt him. The heaviest thing she’d ever thrown at him had been a particularly thick book, which might have smarted a bit if it had hit him in the forehead or something. But since he had caught it, even that hadn’t hurt.
[break][break]
No, this time around, their fight hadn’t come down to her chucking anything in his general direction. Instead, she’d just left. Had walked out of the room, had walked out of the house, and had gone to the Project.
[break][break]
That was where he wanted her to be anyway. That much was clear by the way he kept pushing it at her. As much as she loved the Project and what it stood for, it had been Harry’s idea. She had helped put it together, she had helped him run it, but he couldn’t just tell her he was going back to the Ministry and that she was better at that stuff anyway. He couldn’t just tell her to run the place because he didn’t feel like it anymore. She wanted to do more than that, and it was immeasurably frustrating to her that she couldn’t. Hermione knew that was what this came down to. Everybody was going back to the Ministry, doing their part to try to enact the changes that they were working toward, and she couldn’t.
[break][break]
She couldn’t do anything, not while Muggleborns were technically still not allowed to hold real jobs. Not when she was still a fugitive, not this, not that—she thought that Harry would be able to come up with half a dozen other reasons why she couldn’t join the Ministry even if the registration came to an end. In fact, she was quite certain that he had gotten her pregnant just so he could say it wasn’t safe for her to work there. That was certainly how it felt anyway. And she knew there was a good chance that her hormones were making her more than a little bit irrational, but she was mad.
[break][break]
She was mad that she couldn’t do more, she was mad that harry didn’t seemed all that fussed by that—mad that he was trying to push the Project at her because he was bored of it. Mad that he had told her to grow up.
[break][break]
He had told her to run the Project, so that was what she was going to do. She had gone to the Project with every intention to spend the night there for the rest of the weekend and work. She hadn’t expected Oralee to show up, or to talk her into staying with her instead. Now that she was here, she… well, she didn’t know how she felt. A part of her still thought that Harry owed her an apology, another part of her knew that she had been the one that had left. But Harry never apologized. Why was it always on her? If she didn’t go back home, would he ever come to her to talk? She wasn’t even all that sure.
[break][break]
Hermione had stopped into the Project earlier that day, had caught up on paperwork and had just tried to get a handle of everything that was going on there. Once she had gotten back to Gracewood, though, she’d poured herself another glass of sparkling grape juice and had settled in in the kitchen. “I did for a little bit,” she answered, taking a sip of her drink. “How was your day?” Hermione added, raising her eyebrows.
[break][break]

[attr="class","cnotes"]779 ● @ lee + audrey ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#262626;padding:30px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#464694;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder span]color:#ccc;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]

I FEEL LIKE GIVING UP

BUT I JUST CAN'T

IT ISN'T IN MY BLOOD

When she had found Hermione at the Project last night, Oralee hadn’t asked all that many questions. She had simply forced her to come home with her, and she had put her in the guest room, and that was that. Today she had gone to the Ministry, and she had convinced Andromeda that she was the person that needed to take over the Department of Education, and she had gone to work. Yes, it meant that she was doing a whole lot more than she had been just teaching, but she had talked to Kingsley about it, and while they were worried, there was no reason that it wasn’t going to be okay.

The Potters would figure this out. Whatever this was. Oralee knew that her friend had to be dealing with so much more than she thought that she ever would have. There was no telling whether or not things were going to get better or worse. Right now, they were looking better. They still didn’t have their magic, and that was still a problem, but Oralee thought that it was one that they were at least trying to fix. The whole muggleborn issue was one that they were going to have to face a day at a time. And she didn’t know how to treat it. Not now, not ever.

There was always going to be something about it that she couldn’t touch. She was not a muggleborn. She had not married a muggleborn. Her husband was a pureblood. He was Sacred Twenty-Eight, and he had still married the likes of her. Twice. They had married twice now. And she knew that that didn’t give her any insight into anything to do with Hermione, and how she was feeling. She knew that she couldn’t know, or even think that she had a right to understand, how her best friend felt. But that didn’t change the fact that running from her husband wasn’t always going to be the right answer.

Oralee knew that sometimes things looked bleak. She understood that. She had been through two years of her husband being a noble son of a bitch. She knew what it was like to hate the man that you loved more than anyone else that she knew. But she didn’t think that Hermione hated Harry. She thought that she hated the situation. This plight that they were all caught up in. There was no escaping it. There was no way out of this mess at all, and she didn’t think that they were going to find it overnight.

But she knew that she saw both sides. Because she knew that not only was Harry going to protect Hermione because of who she was, he was going to protect her because she was pregnant. She had had the same discussion with Kingsley. Their son was a factor that they couldn’t ignore. But there was something about being pregnant that she thought made her a little safer. The Death Eaters that still walked the halls of the Ministry might hate her, but they weren’t going to hurt the baby.

Some of them would have. She thought that there were still plenty that that wouldn’t stop if they were really pissed off at her. But Oralee didn’t think that there was any reason that she would have pissed off of those Death Eaters. Not yet anyway. And this wasn’t supposed to be about who she had or hadn’t angered on her first day. This was about Hermione, and the fact that she probably shouldn’t have been at Gracewood at all. Of course, Oralee would let her stay as long as she wanted, and she didn’t think Kingsley minded either. They at least knew that she was safe if she was here with them.

“Good.” She was glad that she had at least gone to work for a little while. That was better than just hiding out all day. “It was fine. I think my new assistant was less than surprised by my appearance, and I am going to blame your daughter for that one. She seems the kind to have called downstairs the moment I disappeared into Andromeda’s office.” Slipping around the island she pulled a pot from the cabinet and she set it in the sink to fill while she watched Audrey out of the corner of her eye. “Pasta with red sauce, or mac n cheese with broccoli?” Her question was half for the little girl, who shrugged by way of answer, and half for the woman sitting in front of her.

@ hermione • 761 • oralee's outfit - no flowers

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[nospaces]

[attr="class","cbg"]

[attr="class","cbgtop"]

[attr="class","cimg"]

[attr="class","clbox"]

[attr="class","ctopline"]HELP ME, IT'S LIKE THE WALLS ARE CAVING IN

[attr="class","cscriptorder"]sometimes i feel like giving up

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]BUT I JUST CAN'T[break]
IT ISN'T IN MY BLOOD

[break][break]

[attr="class","cbody"]She knew that there was a good chance that this had more to do with her hormones than anything else. There was no denying that being pregnant made her far more irritable than normal, and a part of her was very aware that her fight with Harry could have started far more from that than it did from what they were actually discussing. She knew that that irritability paired up with her frustration at being unable to do more was certainly enough for her to pick a fight. But she thought that she had a good reason to be upset, and it didn’t seem like Harry understood that at all. That was possibly what had caused the fight more than anything else.
[break][break]
He had told her to grow up, and she didn’t think that was a far thing to say at all. There was nothing wrong with being rightfully frustrated by a set of circumstances that she could do little to chance. She could try—they had tried, and she knew that it was a process that was going to take time. They had made positive impacts, but there would be a chance to make more in the future. She had to believe that. But the future wasn’t now. And now, while pregnant and irritable, it was undeniably frustrating to see everyone else in her life take jobs in the Ministry and start to push that change forward, when she couldn’t. She didn’t like feeling helpless, and she certainly didn’t like feeling like she couldn’t do something.
[break][break]
That feeling on the island had been different. Of course, she had felt helpless. It was impossible not to when they were in hiding. When she knew what would happen if she left the island and got caught. And just generally because she knew that her entire family was trapped on that island too because of who she was. It wasn’t about Harry this time. There was no Voldemort, no prophecy. No, it was her blood status that had made them uproot their lives and it was hard not to feel both absolutely helpless and horribly guilty for that.
[break][break]
Now that they were back in London, at least they had the ability to go back to their normal lives. She really was happy that they were able to do that. Deacon wasn’t thrilled about having to go back to Hogwarts, sure, but it was necessary. Adaline had chosen to take her NEWTs and had done amazingly, as Hermione had expected. No part of her had ever doubted that, with how gifted her daughter was. Although she was admittedly surprised by her choice to go to work at the Ministry, and more specifically for Andromeda, Hermione trusted her. She knew that she would make the right decisions. Or at least, she wanted to think that she would. It was hard not to worry. Impossible, really, when Hermione did not trust Andromeda as far as she could throw her. She worried about her getting too close to her, she worried about how much time she was spending with her—honestly, the worrying was endless about her daughter’s position in the Ministry.
[break][break]
And she knew that Harry being there would help. She really did know that. It just didn’t change her worries, and it didn’t change her frustrations. It didn’t change the fact that she wanted to be there too, that she wanted to be able to do something when she felt like she was doing nothing. She had gone to that meeting, and it had gotten things started, but now Kingsley was in the Ministry, and it was hard not to feel like he was pushing to do the rest of the work. As skilled of a politician as he was, Hermione knew that wasn’t a bad thing. It was good. If the changes were made, she didn’t care if she wasn’t the one making them. They were changes that needed made regardless, she had just still wanted to be a part of them.
[break][break]
Instead, Harry kept trying to placate her with the foundation, telling her that she needed to grow up instead of understanding her frustrations, and she had needed away from him. She had never expected for that to end with her here instead of at the foundation, but she knew she’d likely be staying here for as long as Lee would have her. She needed a breather, just for long enough for her to get past that argument.
[break][break]
She had gone into the foundation today, because someone had to. It was still a bit of a sore spot for her that that someone was her now that Harry had decided he would rather be doing something else. But it was behavior that didn’t fully surprise her either. “Yes, that sounds like something that she’d do.” She was glad that Lee had got a job in the Ministry. She was happy for her—happy that she’d be able to help and contribute like she liked. She knew that she needed to push down that side of her that was still frustrated by everything and keep that to herself. Wrinkling her nose while she considered her options, she hummed. “Definitely mac n cheese.”
[break][break]

[attr="class","cnotes"]869 ● @ lee ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#262626;padding:30px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#464694;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder span]color:#ccc;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]

I FEEL LIKE GIVING UP

BUT I JUST CAN'T

IT ISN'T IN MY BLOOD

Going to find the tie that Kingsley swore that he hadn’t lost in the first place, had resulted in her finding Hermione instead, and while Oralee wasn’t entirely sure what it was that caused Hermione to walk out, she knew that they would figure it out. They were too similar, the Potters, not to fight with one another every now and again. And she could understand Hermione’s frustration at not being able to do anything. The witch had been trapped away from everything for years, and now that she was back, she couldn’t exactly help… It had to be frustrating.

Was it enough of a reason to storm out of your house? No. Probably not. But she also knew what it felt like to be on both sides of that. She had run to her mother’s for the night before. But she had also known what it had felt like to watch him walk out that door, and not know if he was ever going to walk back in it again. It was horrible. And part of that experience was knowing that she would never have been able to do that again. Before the divorce, she would have been the kind to storm out in a fit of rage. Now?

Well now things were different. She knew that leaving didn’t do any good. She knew that she hadn’t stopped loving him because he had walked out that door. And she knew that walking out that door had only made the both of them miserable for two years. Walking out was something that she would never go again. But Hermione hadn’t learned that lesson, and she didn’t know if there was a way to teach it to her without something as dramatic as what they had done. It wasn’t likely. And she didn’t think that they were going to get divorced to prove a point.

She had done that. She had lived through that. And she would not recommend it to anyone. No, if she was asked for her opinion – which she hadn’t been – she thought that she would have told her to go home. To go home, and scream at him, and maybe throw something at his head. But go home. And figure it out. Because fighting for a week was better than two years of hating every minute that you could have fixed it, and you didn’t. Of wondering if there was some little thing that you could have done then, that would have made a difference now? Two years of no answers was not the answer.

And they were having a baby. Her friend was pregnant. And that was not the time to let something like this grow, and fester. She didn’t like it. But she also knew that Hermione had not asked for her opinion. Not yet. If she didn’t ask for it by the time that the night was through, she thought that she would give it to her anyway. She could stay here, of course she could say here. Gracewood had plenty of room, but she didn’t think that she belonged here. She belonged at home, with her husband, working this out.

Oralee could sympathize. She understood her frustrations. But she understood Harry’s point too. Hermione couldn’t go into the Ministry. Not yet. There had been headway, yes. Some. But going in there now would paint yet another target on her back. The registration was still in place, and while they had let the medical professionals go back into their careers, she was not a healer. She was not a doctor, and she had been their Most Wanted fugitive for two years. Trying to go back in there made her a target not only for the Death Eaters, but for the muggleborns.

The ones that weren’t going to understand how she could disappear from the threat of registering in the first place, and then swoop back into a Ministry job like she had never left. It was going to put another target on her back, and from her own people. Oralee had no idea if Hermione had even considered that. Considered what it was going to look like to the people that were just like her. The people that had suffered through all of this. She would be a saint, or she would be the devil. And people only became saints when they were dead.

Nodding she headed for the refrigerator and grabbed the cheese melts, the butter and the milk before she pulled the broccoli from the crisper. She didn’t want to risk angering the other witch all that much, but she was curious, “Do you know what you’re planning on doing next?” She knew Hermione well enough to know that there had to be some sort of plan by now. She had been here for almost twenty-four hours after all.

@ hermione • 807 • oralee's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[nospaces]

[attr="class","cbg"]

[attr="class","cbgtop"]

[attr="class","cimg"]

[attr="class","clbox"]

[attr="class","ctopline"]HELP ME, IT'S LIKE THE WALLS ARE CAVING IN

[attr="class","cscriptorder"]sometimes i feel like giving up

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]BUT I JUST CAN'T[break]
IT ISN'T IN MY BLOOD

[break][break]

[attr="class","cbody"]She wasn’t going to deny that she was frustrated. Of course, she was. There was no point in hiding that, because it was quite obvious to anyone that knew her well—and quite obvious to Lee, since she had made the decision to sleep at the Project rather than sleep at home with Harry. That had been the best way that she could think of ending that fight. She hadn’t wanted to be around him anymore, and Harry just thought that she should run the Project for him anyway, so why not start right then and just sleep there? She had not thought that it was a bad idea. The couch there was comfortable enough. The security they had at the place wasn’t on the level of Grimmauld Place, but it was still secure. There was no reason not to sleep there, in her opinion.
[break][break]
But she had also known that there was no reason to continue to argue with Lee about it when she’d popped by. She never would have let her hear the end of it if she slept at the Project and didn’t come home with her, so it was one battle that had just… not been worth the struggle. Even if the couch was not that comfortable, a bed would definitely be better. There was no doubt about that. And since her friend had found her trying to sleep on a couch, there was no reason to hide the fact that he was upset or frustrated. Very obviously, the situation eluded to that before she had even told her what was going on.
[break][break]
Hermione knew there was a chance that Lee didn’t understand why she was upset. That she was siding with her to side with her, but secretly she thought that she was being just as ridiculous as Harry thought she was. She knew that. But she didn’t think it was fair to make those judgments. She didn’t think that it was fair for Harry to tell her to grow up, or act like she was being absolutely ridiculous for being upset. Nobody else could fully understand how she was feeling.
[break][break]
As much as she didn’t care about blood statuses, as much as she knew that a person’s worth had nothing to do with their blood, at the end of the day, no one closest to her could understand how it felt to not be able to go into the Ministry to try to get a job. They couldn’t understand how it felt to want so desperately to help, to contribute, to do something, but be unable to. She was a person that had always liked working. Whether it had been schoolwork back at Hogwarts, or her work in the Ministry or at the Project, Hermione liked working. She liked contributing, she liked keeping busy. For someone like her, there was nothing worse than sitting around while other people did the work. There was nothing worse than knowing that there was nothing that she could do to contribute the way that she wanted to.
[break][break]
Harry could call her childish all that he wanted. He could tell her to grow up, could tell her that he was being ridiculous. It didn’t change the fact that he had walked into a Death Eater controlled Ministry, he had walked into a department that was ran by a Yaxley, and get his job back. Kingsley could walk into the Ministry and get a job as an adviser just like that. And today, Oralee had gone into the Ministry, and be handed a job as a department head, in a department that she’d never even worked in before. It wasn’t that Hermione didn’t think she was qualified, or that she didn’t think that she would do amazing work in the department. She was sure that she would. But there was no denying the fact that Hermione couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just walk into the Ministry and get a job, and there was nothing wrong with being frustrated with that. There was nothing wrong with wanting to do more, with wanting to help.
[break][break]
Despite what Harry thought, despite what she was sure that Adaline thought because their daughter had a way of mirroring her father, despite what Lee and Kingsley might possibly think, it was a fair thing to be frustrated about. She couldn’t imagine facing Harry right now, not after everything that he had said and everything that he apparently thought about her opinions on this whole matter. “Stay here until you kick me out, then go back to sleeping at the Project,” she answered, at least sort of jokingly. She didn’t know what there was to do. Hermione couldn’t change the fact that she couldn’t get a job in the Ministry, she couldn’t change the fact that her husband did not understand why she was upset. This was a situation that she was unsure how to fix, apart from being the bigger person and apologizing when she didn’t feel like she’d done anything wrong. Merlin knew that Harry would not apologize. She’d certainly be overstaying her welcome here if she waited for that to happen.
[break][break]

[attr="class","cnotes"]857 ● @ lee ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.cbg]width:400px;background:#262626;padding:30px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbgtop]width:400px;height:120px;text-align:left;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cimg]float:left;width:100px;height:100px;padding:10px;border:1px #aaa solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clbox]float:right;height:100px;margin:15px 5px auto auto;text-align:justify;width:257px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.ctopline]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:2px;text-transform:uppercase;font-family:verdana;color:#aaa;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder]font-size:23px;margin-top:-3px;font-family:Dancing Script;color:#464694;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cscriptorder span]color:#ccc;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cline]height:1px;background-color:#888;margin:3px auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.clyrics]font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana;color:#999;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cbody]font-family:verdana;color:#999;font-size:10px;text-align:justify;line-height:14px;letter-spacing:0.5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cnotes]font-size:9px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;opacity:0.8;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:6pt;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]