"I did, but then I got bored by it. I mean, I don't sit around and talk about poop all day." Or really ever, but that didn't actually matter. It happened to be something that was just a moment of casual amusement and now she was over that moment. It wasn't as if that was a serious surprise. She liked conversations that were vaguely gross or weird in the eyes of others. It didn't mean she held interest in them for long. Just long enough to say what she wanted to say.
The tough guy act wasn't entirely an act, but something she'd just become. Her brother got most of her softer moments, but even he had to suffer her vulgarity. He'd had to suffer her conversations about her first kiss, too. It felt like a million years ago now. She did have a slight fondness for animals, though. They were less shitty than people in general, so she was chill with them. As long as she didn't get seriously injured, she didn't care.
As her snowball hit its mark, she grinned. It was a triumphant moment and she couldn't help but celebrate. She was competative, yes, but the whole point was throwing snow (or food as was the case before) at someone. The allowable violence. People didn't question you if you hit a bludger at someone or really if you did much of anything that was considered "games". Like snowball fights. Socially acceptable violence. Snowball fights were more mild than hitting a bludger at another person, but she didn't really feel more guilt for one or the other.
When he got ready to throw a snowball at her, she readied herself. "BRING IT, BITCH!" Poor timing made sure she got hit in the side as she moved to tumble out of the way, but she quickly recovered and scooped some snow up to throw again once she landed.