Severus stared hard at the faded pink ball in front of him. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd arrived at this point, but arrived he had.
"Pink," he snorted, annoyed all over again. Surely someone would die this afternoon.
"Come on Snape!" a voice shouted from the opposite end of the green. "Don't just stare at the blasted thing all day! Take your ruddy turn!" More sniggering and a barely controlled squeak sounded from behind him, clashing horrifically with the clatter and clank of the rickety woodmill.
Severus sneered and, ignoring the voice, lined up his shot.
He missed. Spectacularly.