There were two things Harry was aware of at this particular moment in time:
1) He wasn't in his bed anymore, and,
2) He couldn't recall the last moment before now, as if he'd just... forgotten everything between standing before his bookshelf and this present moment in time.
Oh, and that he'd had a rather painful landing, judging by the large bruise that was already starting to form on his tender backside. He closed his eyes for a moment, unwilling to get up just yet, and concentrated on what he could feel around him.
Solid ground - definitely not the soft linens of his bed - a cold, unforgiving stone paving, man-made for sure, beneath the palms of his hands. He could feel the chill seeping into his back through his thin, cotton shirt. Despite the cold, he couldn't sense any wind, so perhaps it was safe to assume that he was indoors at least - that, and it was deathly quiet.
He opened his eyes slowly, exhaling the breath he was unaware he'd kept back, and drank in the absolute darkness. But wait-- no, his eyes adjusted quickly and Harry realised that down the corridor he'd managed to find himself in, there was a single window, streaming pale moonlight in, and a door, bracketed by flickering torches, at the very end.
'Okay, so I'm indoors in an unknown location at night. That much, I can gather. But how did I get here, and why?'
Gingerly, he sat up and took a moment to rub at his sore back, wincing as his hand passed over slightly swollen skin. He then attempted to stand upright, using the wall for balance and support. Once he'd regained his bearings, he glanced around the strange corridor once again.
Until this moment, his mind had been (almost) blissfully blank, but now, his brain was racing, calculating, a million different possibilities and scenarios as to why he was here, and what could happen to him in the near future. Realising that there was nothing left in the corridor aside from the door ('But wouldn't that then make this corridor a pointless one?' Harry wondered), Harry decided he would have to go through it.
Every step felt heavy, laborious, until finally, his hand clasped the cold, metal doorknob, and pushed down...