No copyright infringement intended.


Anon prompted: Harry Potter/Pride and Prejudice. "What just occurred?"


Before anyone quite knew what had happened, the young lady was off her horse, strode over to Mister Wickham, and roundly punched him. The man let out a surprised yell, clutching his nose, bent over as he was.

The young lady appeared quite tempted to stomp on his foot, however this was (unfortunately, as Lizzie would later think) prevented when Mister Darcy took charge of the situation.

He guided the young lady – who still had not been introduced to anyone – back towards their horses, where a quite astonished Mister Bingley blinked at her for a moment or two.

No one could blame him for his slight inattention at that precise time, seeing as even Lydia had been made speechless.

What – had that just occurred?

Mister Darcy returned to the pitiful form of Mister Wickham, his face a mask of cool hauteur, as they exchanged a few words which none of the ladies could overhear.

Lizzie turned from the two gentlemen to the young lady. What madness had stricken her to strike Mister Wickham so? In public?

She was dressed like a gentlewoman of means: a red riding habit, paired with a bonnet with matching red ribbons. Black locks of hair peeked out from underneath, accenting the tanned skin.

Green eyes flashed at Lizzie for a moment, burning with anger.

However, just then, Mister Darcy turned from the unfortunate Mister Wickham to the Bennet sisters (as well as Mister Collins). "I apologize for the disturbance to your peaceful morning," he began gravely. But there was something in his eyes that had not been there before. An emotion Lizzie could not make out. "I hope none of the ladies were frightened terribly?"

Lizzie and Jane exchanged a quick glance.

"It is quite alright," Jane said, smiling a little uncertainly.

Mister Darcy then offered to escort them back to Longbourn, which they accepted.

In the excitement, Mister Wickham was quite forgotten.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, this is my cousin," here Mister Darcy sent a quick glare to the red-robed lady, as if to order her to behave, "Miss Harriet Potter, of Blackmoor in Scotland. Harriet, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourn, as well as Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lydia Bennet."

Miss Potter had composed herself wonderfully during the short time of their introductions, even managing a credibly genuine smile for their benefit as they exchanged civilities.

How such a woman could behave with as much propriety and decorum as that while having struck down a man in public remained a mystery to Lizzie for some time.

"Shall we?" Mister Bingley suggested.

Miss Potter found herself wedged between Jane and Lizzie, then Jane joined Mister Bingley and left the two alone with Miss Potter's horse.

"I am sorry you had to witness my loss of control."

"Why, then, did you strike him so? He has appeared to good advantage everywhere he went in the neighborhood, quite the gentleman." Very much unlike that cousin of yours.

Miss Potter rolled her eyes. Openly. "Mister Wickham is as much of a gentleman as my Bobby, here," she replied, motioning one gloved hand to her horse. "Let me tell you about that man."

By the end of their walk, Lizzie was quite determined to befriend Miss Potter, strike Mister Wickham herself, and had much to think over.

As the Netherfield party was leaving, she overheard Miss Potter tell Mister Darcy: "Seems like you're as hopeless as ever. But I've got your back."

Which Lizzie was not sure how to interpret, until Mister Darcy insisted on allowing Miss Potter to be her bridesmaid.