It was summer vacation and, for once, Jude's father was home from his travels. Jude was excited to see him, but it was unacceptable to show extreme emotion in his household. "Greetings father," he said when his dad entered the room. The family exchanged pleasantries, but Jude's mother quickly left for her "tennis lesson" (which more likely meant that she would be seeing Ricardo, the gardener).
"Father, that spell that you mentioned to me in your last letter, could you teach it to me?" he asked once that horrid woman had gone.
Jude's father agreed, but he was not one to lark about when it came to those sorts of things. He commanded Jude to stand and performed the spell on his son. Jude was expecting it, but it still came as a bit of a shock. His legs sprung together and standing was extremely difficult.
However, he knew it was an opportunity not to be wasted. He took the time to observe how his father was standing; his posture, how he held his wand, the direction he waved it in, everything. When his legs were released from the curse, he grabbed his wand from the stand beside his favorite couch in their formal sitting room. His father told him to try the spell himself.
Jude copied his father's former stance to the best of his abilities. His right foot was slightly forward, while his left leg was the same distance back. His knees were slightly bent and his right arm was extended in front of his body, loosely gripping his wand. He took a breath and said, "Locomotor Mortis!"
A feeble jet of light shot out of his wand, but it was nowhere near strong enough to make it even half the distance to where his father was standing. His father told him that he needed to focus more on what he wanted to do. It was difficult for Jude, since he didn't actually want to curse his father. He knew it would be necessary though, because those pesky Gryffindors would probably start to annoy him beyond reason at any moment, and he wasn't going to stoop to their level and try to communicate with them when they could really only communicate in grunts. It would be far more effective just to curse them.
With this in mind, he raised his wand once more, his body teeming with dislike for Gryffindor house. He narrowed his eyes, imagining his father wearing a Gryffindor hat and scarf, cheering for them during Quidditch. "Locomotor Mortis!" he yelled, waving his wand in the same way that his father had when he was demonstrating the spell.
Another jet of light shot out of his wand, stronger than the last. It hit his father and made his legs snap together, but they quickly went back to normal. His father told him to try again, and to hold that focus for the entire time he was casting the spell.
He narrowed his eyes once again, picturing his father, whom he respected and admired, coming to Quidditch games and sitting in the Gryffindor section, cheering for them instead of him. Just the thought of it was enough to drive him mad. "Locomotor Mortis!" he shouted one final time.
The light that left his wand was strong, and it did not falter as it shot from his wand and collided with his father, causing the older man's legs to lock.
Eventually, the effects wore off and his father went back to normal. "I'm proud of you, son," he said to Jude as he left the room, leaving his son a little bit smarter and more encouraged about his ability to wipe the disgusting smirks off those smug Gryffindor's faces.
