Emrys did not like the sound of those instructions. Not. one. bit. Sighing, he opted to return the trinket before ending the spell, lest the niffler peel his face off trying to get it back. When he returned to the table, he looked at the niffler, head tilted as he considered the creature.

"Finate Incantatem," he intoned, rather lackluster, recoiling in anticipation. But the niffler, instead, turned away from him and ran straight off the desk, presumably toward someone who had already cast the attraction spell.

Emrys repeated the spell in his head, over and over, eyes locked looking somewhere over the tops of his glasses, into the blurry beyond. Raising his wand, he practiced the wand movement, but his concentration was interuppted by a loud thud. Turning to look in the direction it came from, he caught the unfortunate sight of one Gryffindor clinging to the ankles of another, begging for a date.

Emrys swallowed hard, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he turned to look at the girls seated near him. What if... oh no. No no. He would not cast. Would. not. do. it. He couldn't handle the thought of them fawning over him and he certainly wouldn't be able to slap them.

Eyes wide, like an animal trapped in a corner, Emrys started to sweat.