Draco felt a jerk behind his navel as his feet left the ground. They were spinning in a nausea-inducing whirl of colours, faster and faster. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped it still worked. He had made it a habit to check every week that the Portkey was still there, but testing it would have rendered it useless and he had no way of knowing with certainty whether the passage was still open. The one he had arranged with heavy bribes and promises of favours years ago. A tunnel for undetectable international travel. 