Celia flew towards a bludger, her gaze swiveling across the field as she tried to keep track of where the chasers were. She was about to hit the ball when something slammed into her back, knocking the wind out of her. For a few moments, she just clung to her broom, trying to breathe. When at last she finally had the presence of mind to look up, she quickly located the other beaters, trying to figure out who was responsible. Ares had more motive, but Seamus was the better beater. Celia narrowed her eyes. She'd just have to hit them both back. Harder.