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Freya slid a piece of paper across the coffee table, her expression mock-serious.

The blonde laughed, breaking the tension. "You destroyed me," she said. The paper had their final scrabble scores on them tonight, Reagan had struck an early lead and maintained it the whole game. Finn - poor thing - had fallen behind early and Freya had taken second place. The blonde adjusted her glasses, a smile on her face. The floor was stone and would have been cold aside from the thick rug that covered up a big square of it. The fireplace was lit too. It might have been summer, but having the warmth spread magically through their apartment was like heaven, especially for Freya who despised the cold.

A knock at the door made her jump. She stared at the door for a full five seconds before she realised that it was her responsibility to open the door. Moments ago, the three of them had wanted to eat ice-cream, so Finn had volunteered to go down to the corner store and buy some for them. Freya could be extremely lazy sometimes - like tonight - so she hadn't even offered to go with him out of politeness. Oops. Freya answered the door with a puzzled expression on her face. When Finn had left, he'd taken a key, so there was no reason he should be knocking now. "Hello?" she said, adjusting the hem of her PJ shorts as the random guy at the door dropped two parcels on the ground and got her to sign that she'd received them. Freya picked up the mysterious broom packages and brought them in, still looking quite confused. "Do you know anything about this?" she asked curiously. Maybe Finn had told her something, she thought.

"Well, not destroyed." Reagan commented lightly, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. "Maybe just, you know. Maimed a bit. Not lethally." Reagan wasn't the most humble person in the world. She was humble, of course, and knew that there were people better than her at everything she was good at, but there was a bit of a reason she'd been in Gryffindor and hadn't ended up anywhere else. Her boyfriend greatly disliked losing, which was sort of part of the reason she and Freya had teamed up. While Ray wasn't being taught a minute lesson in humility that evening, perhaps Finn was. That was part of what being in a relationship was, wasn't it? Helping each other grow somehow?

Of course it was. She wouldn't feel badly about it. Women needed to support other women. That would be her excuse and he couldn't argue with it unless he wanted to be in an actual doghouse for actual days. Reagan, feeling toasty warm, rose from the floor in her pajama shorts and stretchy, comfortable sports bra in one fluid motion, confused expression directed toward the cracked door. Her dainty fingers pawed at the parcels for a second and she looked even more nonplussed as the minute passed. "mmmm. Nope. Know nothing about it. Finn didn't tell me he was getting a new broom, so I'm not sure what the hell that is." Reagan theorized, taking one of them out of Freya's arms and starting to tear at the brown paper covering the broom.

It looked stupid. and old. And hardly even like a real broom. It was kind of small to be a real broom. Maybe it was a children's broom? She rose her eyebrows and unwrapped it all the way, and it suddenly began to levitate. What the hell? She could hear Sarah cuss in her mind's ear. She'd almost come over too, but she'd had to work instead. Without warning, the broom began to putter around the room by itself, pink butterflies trailing in its wake, and Reagan gestured with her fingers to call her wand over wordlessly. This was going to stop. If this was a prank, it wasn't funny. "Immobulus," Reagan muttered at the butterflies, but this didn't seem to work -- it only seemed to anger them. The broom zoomed right for her head and she ducked, but the butterflies were flapping around her face, clearly annoyed she'd attempted to stunt their flight.

After a few minutes of trying spells, she finally seemed to spit one out that worked and the broom (and the butterflies) dropped to the floor. "Um, get this out of here," She told Freya nervously, running a hand through her long brown hair. "Weird as hell. Wonder why we got defective children's brooms with pissed off butterflies."