Al bounced up with a rustle of bedsheets and grabbed the offered mug just by habit: a reliable offer of more caffeine just as the current caffeine kicked in with a vengeance.
"Three? T'was nine five minutes ago!" He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and frowned at the questionable calculation. Give or take several hours. He groaned. "Why'd you let me sleep? You're supposed to wake me at ten. I had broomstick to polish and cauldrons to clean and - something else -" Al fumbled around for his glasses (hanging off the headboard) and pushed them up his nose, using that moment to refueling on more fresh coffee at the same time. "And we're late for it! Accio notes!"
Al's daily calendar and to-do list whooshed off the bedstand made of books and whacked him in the ear.