"Don't run around like that!" Rimuru sighed helplessly as he chased after Milim, who was darting ahead without a care in the world. Watching her chaotic dash, he felt utterly speechless.
"This might be the first time in my life I've skipped a class… There goes my perfect attendance for the month." Hermione followed along, grumbling with a tone full of grievance. In order to prevent Milim from doing something outrageous and blowing up the school, she had no choice but to nobly ditch class.
"By the way, Hermione," Rimuru suddenly asked, "what year are you guys in now?"
"Second year," Hermione replied. "So we're in the Chamber of Secrets arc."
"Bestie! Come quick!" Milim, who had been walking ahead, suddenly stopped and waved them over excitedly, as if she'd discovered something interesting.
"What is it?" Rimuru and Hermione hurried over to her.
"Alright, children, good morning!" a plump witch greeted the gathered students with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Professor Sprout!"
"Welcome to Greenhouse Three, second-years! Gather around," Professor Sprout said kindly. Then she looked toward the entrance, where she spotted three pairs of eyes peeking in stealthily.
"And who are you three? What are you doing over there?" she asked, puzzled.
"Hermione! Where did you go? Why are you only just arriving?" The one who spoke was none other than Harry Potter.
"Ah, Professor Sprout, I'm really sorry I'm late." Hermione, caught red-handed, immediately gave up on the idea of running away. If she bolted now, she'd definitely lose house points—and that would be a massive stain on her school record!
"Oh, that's quite alright," Professor Sprout said kindly. "Just be careful next time. Come on in—we're about to start."
"Bestie, what do we do?" Milim whispered.
"You two over there, what are you waiting for? Get in here!" Professor Sprout called out, clearly impatient.
"Well, let's just pretend we're supposed to be here," Rimuru sighed, helpless. He had no choice but to go along with it.
With that, the two of them trailed behind Hermione and entered the greenhouse.
"Who are they?" Harry asked Hermione, eyeing the two strangers with curiosity.
"They're… new friends I just made," Hermione replied, already feeling a headache coming on.
"Hi! I'm Milim, and this is my bestie, Rimuru," Milim introduced herself without a hint of shyness. "You must be Harry Potter—I've heard so many stories about you!"
"Hello, Miss Milim and Miss Rimuru," Harry greeted them politely, blushing a little at the sight of the two charming girls.
"I want to chop him into pieces," Rimuru muttered expressionlessly. Why did everyone assume he was a girl just because he looked cute? Was being cute a crime now?
"Alright, students, settle down," Professor Sprout clapped her hands to quiet the room. Once everyone was paying attention, she nodded and continued, "Today's lesson is about repotting mandrakes. Has everyone got their earmuffs ready?"
"Yes, Professor!"
"Hermione, is that the mandrake?" Milim asked curiously, pointing to the squirming plant on the table.
"That's right. It's used to cure petrification," Hermione explained, a hint of concern in her voice. "But its scream is lethal. Of course, it shouldn't be a problem for you guys."
Professor Sprout then began teaching the class how to repot the mandrakes. Milim watched with great interest as one was yanked out of the pot, shrieking at full volume. To her, this was the best kind of toy ever. So she started pulling the mandrake out, stuffing it back in, then pulling it out again. Over and over.
By the end of it, the poor mandrake had been so thoroughly traumatized it didn't even make a sound anymore. It took Professor Sprout stepping in to finally rescue the unfortunate plant from Milim's hands.
And just like that, Milim and Rimuru ended up attending an entire class—openly and shamelessly. To their surprise, it was actually kind of fun.
"Hermione, the stuff you guys study is so interesting!" Milim said with sparkling eyes as she looked at Hermione. "I suddenly really want to stay at your school forever!"
"If that actually happens, I bet a hundred crystals that Voldemort's end is going to be spectacularly tragic," Rimuru quipped from the side.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Whether Voldemort died tragically or not, she didn't know. But if Milim did stay at the school, she was willing to bet ten thousand crystals that the entire faculty would be driven insane before long.
"Hello, ladies," a ghost floated toward them, cheerfully greeting the group before removing his head in a disturbingly casual manner.
"Hello, Sir Nicholas," Hermione replied calmly, unfazed. But then she noticed Milim watching with sparkling curiosity—and suddenly had a very bad feeling.
As expected, the next moment, Milim flashed forward and yanked off Sir Nicholas's head!
"Wow, this is amazing!" Milim's eyes shone like stars as she spun his head around like a basketball.
"Oh no—please stop! Put my head back on! Don't spin it!" moaned the now-headless Sir Nicholas as his body flailed around blindly.
"Milim! That's incredibly rude!" Rimuru felt like divine beasts were stampeding through his heart in frustration.
"Bestie~ I just think his head is super fun. I wanna take it home," Milim pleaded pitifully.
You want to take someone's head home? Rimuru and Hermione both stared at her, completely at a loss for what kind of expression to make.
In the end, Milim reluctantly gave the head back. Sir Nicholas hurriedly reattached it and made a swift retreat.
"Hermione! Can we stay here a few more days?" Milim asked sweetly, eyes full of hope. "I promise not to cause any more trouble!"
"I don't think I can trust that promise…" Hermione clutched her head, but she still didn't say no. "Fine. But you must promise not to do anything too outrageous."
"Yay!" Milim cheered and jumped with joy.
"Absolute chaos," Rimuru muttered, watching Milim's gleeful antics. Even though he felt the headache coming, he still smiled a little. As long as she's happy, that's all that matters… right?
And so, Milim and Rimuru began their short yet entertaining campus life at Hogwarts—bringing with them the certain doom of peace and order.