Anagene sighed, attempting to direct the broom's swirling energy. It stubbornly refused to sweep towards the dust bunnies under the chaise. Instead, it pulsed with rainbow light, eager to dance. "Not now, Pip," she murmured, adjusting her gown. The broom vibrated in response, a mischievous glint in its glowing bristles. Magical chores were never simple when your cleaning tools had minds of their own. Perhaps a quick waltz was in order before tackling the real mess.