"Oh yeah! Oh yeah!
Who's the man?
With the Venn diagra-am?
Aristotle and Plato,
Baudrillard and Foucault
Are all dead
Couldn't kick it with this head-"
Selwyn froze in the middle of his victory rap and tried to recover what was left of his dignity.
Ahem.
"Thanks for not eating me," he gave the Sphinx a respectful nod as he eased past.
You never could tell with those sphinxes, and indeed, he could feel her eyes on him as he scrambled those last few yards to his trophy. Selwyn had no idea what would happen once he had it, but the Sphinx seemed to think it was the way on to the next part (please, Merlin, no!) or better yet, the end of this task.
As soon as he laid his hands on the thing, Selwyn felt like the inside of his stomach was being pulled backwards. It was a very familiar sensation, as aside from simply using the muggle trains or boats, portkey was the main way families travelled between France and the United Kingdom. He held on tightly, and watched for the ground to come back into view.
It was only a few moments before the portkey deposited him unceremoniously on the ground. That was the problem with portkeys, and the reason Selwyn would learn apparition as soon as possible. The landing was always so painful. It was like they went out of their way to drop you on rocks. Now, Selwyn had a bruised elbow as well as a twisted ankle. He turned to look at where he'd landed.
Please let it be the end. Please let it be the end.
High walls of hedge stretched away in either direction. Directly ahead, a gate stood open, beckoning.
"SODDING HELL!"
Selwyn drew his wand and blasted a fire charm at the hedge, just to be sure the judges understood exactly how displeased he was.