Hermione dragged Harry straight out of bed while he was still completely groggy.
There was no helping it. He had gone to sleep far too late the night before.
But a single sentence from Hermione gave him a sudden jolt and brought him fully awake.
"Harry, Voldemort just attacked Diagon Alley." That one sentence woke Harry right up.
"When?" He scrambled up off the floor. Where had Hermione gotten that much strength? After calling him several times without success, she had dragged him straight off the bed, sheets and all.
Not caring that he wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, Harry tried to clear his head as he asked.
"About an hour ago. Hurry up and get dressed. Everyone's downstairs." With that, Hermione immediately turned and left.
Harry blinked hard and finally managed to clear his head. He glanced to the side and saw Ron sitting on the floor too, bare-chested and looking equally bewildered.
No, Hermione, this is ridiculous.
I weigh over a hundred and thirty pounds. Fine, you can drag me out of bed.
But Ron weighs a hundred and eighty pounds. How did you drag him out of bed?
You used magic, didn't you?
You definitely used magic!
Come on, isn't using magic to wake people up going a bit too far?
Though Harry had a whole host of complaints he wanted to voice, he quickly tapped a finger against the bedside, and his wand and wrist guards shot into his hands.
At Harry's current level, he could already cast the vast majority of spells without a wand.
Still, a wand provided considerable help with both the safety and precision of magic. As what was considered the finest invention in the entire history of magical development, it was not something one could dispense with entirely