“There's no plan, there's no race to be run. The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun. There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come. I'll be your man, if you got love to get done.”
GRETA CATCHLOVE / TWENTY-FIVE
BLOOD STATUS: MUGGLEBORN OCCUPATION: UTP ORDER STATUS: NON-MEMBER GENDER: TRANS PRONOUNS: SHE/HER
↳ INTRODUCTION
A flash of pink messy hair, a forgotten tea kettle screaming on your stovetop, and a dozen unfinished works of art. You are always in motion, here one minute and gone the next. If you could, you’d sprout wings and never stop flying from place to place. After all, the chaos you’ve designed is the only home you’ve ever needed. Thus far, your ‘catch me if you can’ mentality has kept you safe from this war, but now it’s become nearly impossible to escape. Sweet and naive, if darkness came knocking, you’d answer the door with a laugh and a shrug before it consumed you whole.
GRETA CATCHLOVE IS OPEN.
↳ STORY
The letter that arrived on Greta’s doorstep when they were eleven might as well have been a winning lottery ticket. Growing up in poverty, there was very little Greta had to call their own. Everything was shared, passed around and handed down until it was beyond use, but this, this was theirs and no one could take it away from them. For the first time in their life, they had a sense of stability. Greta’s parents were constantly starting new jobs, sometimes they’d claim they’d ‘found their calling,’ but more often than not it was just another odd job to pay the bills. Their parents had been painters, line cooks, woodworkers, and even tried to open up a little bakery at some point. Greta was exposed to so many different talents and skills, they picked many of them up themselves. It was no different at Hogwarts, although, they were often more interested in unusual topics, rather than their core classes. They were a talented wix, but they favored subjects considered less useful by most: ancient runes, herbology, divination. They even spent some time in the kitchens with the house elves, learning how to cook. With Their mind occupied by so many different topics, it’s no wonder that Greta was oblivious to the early signs of the war. For many years, they were even unaware of the prejudice some purebloods held against them. In Greta’s mind they teased them because they were different, because they celebrated the odd and unusual. Little did they know, to them, they themselves were the odd and unusual. After Hogwarts, Greta left the United Kingdom behind. From their studies, they knew there was so much more out there to experience. They traveled from country to country, learned a few different languages and new kinds of magic, fell in and out of love multiple times, and even wrote a book. It wasn’t until the news about the Godric’s Hollow massacre reached France that they even heard about the war.
They were in a small cafe; the radio was faintly playing a song that sounded similar to ‘La Vie en Rose,’ but Greta couldn’t quite place. As they listened, suddenly, the music cut and a man with a panicked voice came on. The clerk at the counter turned up the broadcast, and the entire cafe sat in silence as they listened to the voice describe the massacre. An entire town, wiped out. He said unconfirmed reports had tied the attack to he who must not be named. Greta had lived in ignorance for so long, this was the first time they’d ever heard of him, but it was clear from the terrified faces of the other people in the cafe that he was someone to be feared. Greta poured over newspaper clippings, hoping to learn more about the man they’d now come to know as Lord Voldemort, a man that had instilled so much fear in the wizarding world, that people refused to call him by name. Greta had been through hardships, but they’d never experienced true darkness like the kind Voldemort was brining to the wizarding world. They couldn’t understand why he hated people like them so much, but they would. Greta became consumed with their search to learn more about the man who threatened to topple the wizarding world as they knew it. They read every article they could find, listened to every broadcast in safety, whole countries away from the war, but nine words and Greta’s naive curiosity would bring them back to the United Kingdom. Not long after hearing about the massacre, Greta rigged up an old radio so they could get wizarding broadcasts from a few different countries. They were switching through the stations when they’d finally settled on the thick accent of a young Irish woman. She spoke not of the terror Voldemort was bringing to the wizarding world, but of an uprising against him. She was the first voice Greta heard that had any confidence to it, the only person that seemed to have any faith that Voldemort would be defeated. At the end of her broadcast, she signed off with a single phrase: “The Order of the Phoenix will save us all.”
It was difficult finding any other mention of such an Order, but if anyone could find them, it was Greta. They had to know why this woman had such confidence in this group, why she was so sure they were going to win the war. As Voldemort’s influence began to spread throughout other parts of Europe, Greta’s search became about more than just their curiosity, but about their survival. They tried to hide her terror behind their research, but with the passing of each day they became more and more desperate, until they did the unthinkable. When they stepped foot in Godric’s Hollow, Greta was convinced their search had come to a dead end. Broken glass from shattered windows still littered the streets, and many of the homes were boarded up and condemned. The town was abandoned. Still, there was one clue to who might have been there, at some point. In the middle of Godric’s Hollow stood a cemetery, and while those inside were long gone, outside stood a wood fence covered in photos posted there with hope that the people in them were still alive. They peered closer at each photo until they came to one, a blonde woman who they did not recognize by her face, but by the name scribbled underneath. Glenda Chittock. It was the woman they’d heard on the radio, the woman who was so confident in this Order of the Phoenix. They ripped the photo off the fence and began to stuff it into their bag, when a woman in red appeared out of nowhere. “No!” she screamed, as she pulled out her wand. Before Greta could react, the woman had knocked them off their feet, and everything began to fade away.
When Greta finally came to, they couldn’t tell how much time had passed or where they were. They were tied down on a metal table, in a room that almost looked like a makeshift hospital; dirty white curtains hanging from the ceiling separated them from a group of four or five people. They were whispering, and Greta couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. They tried to pull themselves free from the bindings, but the more they struggled the tighter they got. When they pulled back the curtains, Greta was convinced their life was over, their search was over and Lord Voldemort was destined to win, but when one of the women pulled out a wand, instead of casting a green flash that would end their life, she untied the binds. “Don’t run,” the woman said, before introducing herself as Alice. She said her pink-tinted hair had given them away; they were one of the many muggleborns that purebloods would tease while they were at Hogwarts. Although they didn’t know each other, Alice had been in the same year at Hogwarts. As they looked at each of the people who’d been behind the curtain, Greta realized what they’d done. They had found the Order of the Phoenix.
FACE CLAIM: ZION MORENO (semi-negotiable)
