Class the next day is pretty much the same, but with even more context! Reading is so helpful.

Context is good. Although he kind of likes having to read three books a day just to keep up.

Well, he's making good scholastic life choices, then.

Good!!

At the end of the botany class the teacher takes him aside and asks if he's going to be auditing any lab sessions.

"Could be, why?"

"You didn't get the lab safety lecture at the beginning of the semester. If you're going to audit any lab sessions I'm going to need to see you outside of class to deliver it first."

"Sure, all right," he says agreeably.

He explains when his office hours are.

"I'll see you then!"

He smiles slightly and nods.

And off he goes to the rest of his day's Intense Educational Experience.

Office hours extend a little while past when he gets out of his last class.

So that is when he goes to them.

Then he can have a safety lecture. Most of the stuff at the beginning is either fairly intuitive--lab smocks and safety goggles on at all times--or doesn't apply to him--anyone with long hair has to put it up so it doesn't get into anything. They're just starting to get into the salient bits when someone knocks on the door. The professor gets up to open it. 

 "Hey," says the man on the other side, "I just wanted to drop off the seeds you asked for, from the rainforest expedition."

"Thank you, Michel," the professor sighs, accepting the proffered package. 

"Should you really be calling me by my first name in front of a student?" Michel asks, raising an eyebrow in suggestion of a long-running joke or argument. The professor just gives him a flat look in response. Michel laughs, then looks at Milan more closely. "Say, aren't you the guy who just showed up from way the hell farther off--Milan, right?"

"That's me! 'Way the hell farther off' is an accurate description!" he agrees. "Understatement, if anything!"

"Bit of an idiom," he shrugs. "Matteo," apparently this is the professor's first name, "You seem to be getting along with him so well. Have the rumors that he believes himself going the way of the Zavier girl not reached you?"

The professor goes stiff. "You've made your delivery. Have you further business here?"

"Not as such, no. I assume the rumors are true," Michel adds to Milan.

"Depends what you mean by that, I suppose. I've been in this universe for three days and there may be implications I'm missing."

"Oh, just the whole Great Mage thing," Michel answers cheerfully, ignoring Matteo's look of venom. "I mean, there's other rumors, but that's the one I meant."

"...I feel like there's a conflict here that I don't know much about and would really rather not get in the middle of," he says, glancing between the two of them.

"Michel, go," the professor says firmly. Michel finally goes. Matteo puts down the package and rubs his temples. He looks far tireder than the exchange ought to merit.

"...This may very well be none of my business, but - is something wrong?"

He laughs bitterly.

"That sounds very much like the sound of something being wrong."

"Not if you ask literally anyone else."