Harry hurried down the street with his head slightly down. He had just left a meeting with an old friend and was trying to walk as quickly as possible without attracting attention. Easier said than done in Knockturn Alley. Once at the apparition point, he spun on his heel and disappeared. He landed in a familiar park near Privet Drive. Even after all these years, Harry found himself using this location as a safe place to land. Most of the time, it was no longer a park or had yet to become one. However, now it was the park of his childhood. Once he steadied himself, he once again began to hurry out of the park. He had things that needed to be done and a deadline to do them in.

Looking down at a slip of parchment, Harry looked up just in time to see a teenager in his path. But it was too late, Harry careened into the teen. At once, Harry's body was filled with a white hot fire. He barely noticed as he hit the ground. The teen must have been having a similar reaction as he was screaming and lashing out from the ground a few inches away. A great white light enveloped both Harry and the boy, and Harry knew no more.

oOo

"Good thing that we found him when we did. Who knows who else could have stumbled upon him."

"In a muggle park, though? Surely he was safer there than if this had happened somewhere else."

Harry rolled his head back and forth trying to clear the dream. It had been years since he had such a vivid dream about his childhood. Maybe it had something to do with the splitting headache he had. Groaning, he ran his hand over the face and sat up.

He looked around the room trying to get a sense of where exactly he was. He appeared to be in a makeshift bed in a living room. It was homey and warm with a fireplace and a worn sofa and overstuffed chairs. A man who Harry recognized as Alastor Moody was sitting in a wooden chair beside his bed. A plump red-headed witch was walking out of the room.

"You're up! 'Bout time, boy!"

Blinking twice, Harry tried to decipher exactly where he was. Looking around, he had a vague feeling that he had been in this room before and that he should recognize it. It seemed familiar. The bigger problem by far was why Alastor Moody was expecting a response as if he knew him. As far as Harry could remember, he had stepped into this time a few days ago at most. And he definitely hadn't become acquainted with Moody during that time.

"Er- " Harry stumbled to think of something to say, "What happened?"

"We were hoping that you could tell us that! Tonks here found you face down screaming in that park near your Aunt's home."

Slowly memories began rushing back. From apparating to the park, to running into some teenager, and then falling down. But they were blurry and at some points he was coming from two opposite directions at once.

"Do you not remember?" Moody leaned forward in his chair, looking concerned.

"Er- um, no." Harry decided that it would be best to see if others gave him a clue as to who they might think he is. Laying back down, Harry tried to shift through his memories to remember what exactly the Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledore or really anyone was doing during this time. It had been so long since he had been a student at Hogwarts that everything from that time seemed like a dream. He knew he lived it, but putting the details in any meaningful order was difficult. Who did they think he was? Where had they taken him?

"Ah, Harry glad to see that you are up." Adrenaline shot through Harry's body as he turned and saw Dumbledore walk in followed by someone who Harry thought might be Molly Weasley.

Harry? How do they know who I am? Theories, each stranger then the next ran through his mind. It wasn't until he caught a slight reflection of his face in Dumbledore's glasses that true terror set in. His face was exactly as it looked when he was a teenager. Immediately, he started feeling his face, his glasses and his scar. Panic gripped his as he leaned over the edge of bed and vomited.

Dumbledore sat down in a chair besides Moody. He gave Harry a concerned look as he vanished the mess.

"That's not quite the reaction that one hopes for upon their arrival," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling.

"S-sorry," Harry was still shaking slightly from shock, "I think whatever happened left me a little unsettled."

"He says he doesn't remember any of it, Dumbledore," Moody jumped in much to Harry's relief, "Tonks isn't really sure what happened either. And any test that Poppy ran on him are inconclusive as well. He appears perfectly healthy, if not a little fatigued."

"Well perhaps with time, memories will begin to return. What is the last thing that you remember, Harry?" Dumbledore took out a chocolate frog and began unwrapping it as he waited for a response.

"I remember walking in the park," Harry hoped that this was a safe answer. Trying to focus anywhere but on Dumbledore's eyes, Harry watched him break a leg off his squirming chocolate frog. Unfortunately, this caused more nausea and he began to be sick again.

"Ah, sorry about that. Perhaps a poorly considered snack choice?" Dumbledore waited as Harry slowly moved to lay back against the makeshift bed, "However, there is quite a serious reason why I visit today. While you have been at your Aunt's long enough for the protective enchantments to continue there, with Voldemort alive it is much to dangerous to leave you here at the Weasley's. We have a safe house of sorts set up and we would like to move you there as soon as you are stable enough to be apparated. Besides a weak stomach, how do you feel?"

Harry stared at his hands that were shaking slightly. He felt dizzy and hot. He was also beginning to understand that something had happened to make them mistake him for his younger counterpart. Where the other Harry was, he didn't know. He was beginning to suspect that the younger version of himself was whom he ran into in the park. He really didn't want to spend too long thinking about what that might actually mean. But if Voldemort was looking for him, he needed to be under whatever protective enchantments Dumbledore felt were most effective. And he needed to be there soon. Especially while he was too sick to fight properly. One thing that Harry trusted Dumbledore on was knowing how to keep the Order safe.

"I think I'll be fine to apparate." Harry tried not to gag thinking about side-along apparition, "Really, I do."

Dumbledore briefly gave him a speculative look, then eyes twinkling offered Harry a hand out of the bed. Slowly Harry got out of bed, hand in hand with Dumbledore. Trying not to shake too badly, Harry took a deep breath. He was certain that Dumbledore knew he wasn't quite well enough to apparate. He could see the hidden concern in the man's face.

"Have you apparated before?"

"Of course," Harry said without hesitation. The curious look from the Headmaster was lost to Harry, who was still trying to steady himself.

"Well, best be off." And Harry felt the familiar discomfort of being squeezed through a tube. Landing in an alleyway near what Harry assumed was Grimmauld Place, Harry found himself kneeling on the ground, sick again. Understanding that the danger he must be in was significant if Dumbledore was willing to risk apparating while Harry was in this condition. He hoped that this ill feeling wasn't going to make itself permanent.

Once he finished getting sick, Dumbledore offered a hand up and pulled Harry to standing. They exited the alleyway and began making their way towards a familiar house. When they stood in front 11 Grimmauld Place and 13 Grimmauld Place, Harry feared that he was going insane. The Black's townhome was moving in and out of view, much like someone was shoving 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place together and then pulling them apart again to reveal number 13 and then quickly hide it again. Harry looked at Dumbledore to see if his face might reveal the vanishing and reappearing house. His face revealed nothing as an easy smile took over.

Dumbledore leaned down and whispered into Harry's ear, "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."