equalled.livejournal.comThat can't have been a Portkey...
[The video shows a bespectacled face with bright green eyes peering closely at the communicator until Harry realizes it's on, stops muttering to himself and pulls back a bit, his untidy black hair more noticeable now. He flattens his fringe out of habit to keep his scar covered and gives a bemused kind of frown.] Hullo? Could somebody please tell me what's going on?
I mean, I got the brochure and everything, but it was rather unhelpful. [He stands up, apparently having been sitting on a couch, and as he starts walking it's obvious he's inside an MAC apartment.] It led me to this place, though I don't need an apartment. I have a home.
[He absent-mindedly nudges a closet door open without really looking and moves on.] Wait. This isn't a test, is it? If it is, I swear, Kingsley... I'll come find you and— [Harry abruptly halts in his tracks as the air suddenly seems to freeze, his breath coming out as visible puffs and a dreadful, rattling sound fills the room. He drops the communicator (it keeps recording, albeit at an odd angle and the scene grows a bit blurry as a thin layer of ice starts covering the device) and he wheels around, wand at the ready in the blink of an eye. For a moment the source of the rattling sound can be seen as a black-cloaked figure glides into view.]
Expecto Patronum!
[A flash of light before a silver stag canters in and out of view, apparently driving the figure back. There's a beat and then Harry laughs humorlessly, relaxing his stance considerably when he understands his mistake. An almost lazy wave of his wand and...]
Riddikulus.
[There's a noise like a muffled explosion and a brief glimpse of the stag again when it walks back to Harry before fading. After a pause, he picks the communicator up again and he's brushing the ice off when he accidentally presses some buttons, cutting the feed.]