Australia
March 13 - March 16
Ah, yes; Media Day. The day where every driver gets shoved into an interview and is forced to do all sorts of challenges.
Dorcas loves it.
Together with Remus and Emmeline, she has set up a very normal looking interview space. There are four chairs, three microphones, a camera, lighting stands, and a bunch of snacks and drinks.
She wants to give off the vibe that this is going to be a normal interview where normal, F1 related questions will be asked.
Of course, that’s not going to be the case.
You see, Dorcas has something specific in mind for the first Media Day of the season. That the season begins in Australia is even better, because the hot, end of summer, weather will get the drivers sweating.
Some of the older drivers might recognise the little game they will be playing, but that makes it all the more fun. They won’t know this year’s challenge, even if the question don’t different much from previous times. Besides, it’s all about stamina, not knowledge or feelings.
Oh, and multitasking, of course.
“I think everything is set up,” Remus announces when he comes back from plugging in the last light. He looks around their little space and nods to himself. “It looks unassuming.”
“That’s the goal, dear Remy,” Dorcas winks. She’s been calling him that ever since he came to the office, dripping wet from the rain, looking like a wet rat. The man had, immediately, ran to the coffee machine, and when Reinier had given him a fresh strawberry with cheese toast for breakfast, Remus had practically collapsed onto the floor looking much like how the rat from Ratatouille had.
Dorcas loves giving people nicknames. She’s been doing it since middle school, when she couldn’t remember the name of one of her classmates, so she made something up. Since then, nicknames were a given, if you’d met her. Often times, people started using their nicknames more than their actual name, and thus, more people called them that.
Like Rosie, for example. Her parents had called her Rozalinda, after her grandmother, but she absolutely hates that name. Dorcas had met her at university, and promptly renamed her Rosie. Now, everyone calls her that.
The first drivers duo to show up are the drivers of Phoenix Racing.
Pandora Lávenkount is a blonde woman with paler skin than you would imagine from someone who’s from Greece. The probable explanation for that is that she’s moved to Sweden to be with her husband, Xenophilius Malfang, whenever she’s not on track.
Hey, despite not publishing anything about a driver’s personal life, Dorcas does keep up with it. Besides, she had been Maid of Honour at Pandora’s wedding three years ago.
Severus Plesneală is the other driver for Phoenix. He’s a brooding figure with black hair and a crooked nose. Dorcas remembers it being crooked because his old best friend had hit him so hard, it broke. She doesn’t know the specifics of that fight, but everyone now knows not to double-cross Lily Evans.
Severus is a pale man who often times is being referred to as ‘The Vampire’. He always seems a bit… let’s go with annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else than in his car and racing everyone instead of interacting with the fans or doing interviews.
It’s a stark contrast to Pandora’s smiles and warm greetings to everyone she meets. Pandora is just a ray of sunshine next to the storm cloud next to her that’s waiting to burst open.
“Welcome!” Emmeline greets the pair with a smile, and she points to the two microphones on the spare chairs. “Take a seat, take a seat.”
Remus, who’s standing behind the camera, nods at Dorcas and Emmeline for her to begin the interview. He’ll be in charge of filming it all, and assist in the challenge.
“Today, we’re joined by Phoenix Racing drivers Pandora Lávenkount and Severus Plesneală.” Emmeline pauses a little to smile at the drivers. “Guys, it’s wonderful to see you. Tell us, how was testing?”
Severus picks up his mic and starts talking. “It was good,” he says. “Of course, it’s not saying anything about how this season will go, but we’ll see.”
“Yeah,” Pandora adds. “We’ve had to make a few changes to the car, but I’m confident we’ll score some good points this year.”
Dorcas grins. “Amazing. So, you both aren’t rookies any more. Severus, this will be your fifth season, and Pandora for you it’s your third. You both know me pretty well, too, and I hope you know what I mean by that.”
Pandora starts laughing. “Alright, what’s the challenge?”
“This challenge is all about stamina,” Dorcas tells the duo. “We want you both to squat, and hold that position for as long as possible. While doing so, we’ll have our intern throw balls at you that you have to catch, while we’ll be asking questions. Sounds doable, right?”
Severus stands up from his chair. “It sounds easy,” he tells her, and steps aside to leave enough space for Pandora.
While the two drivers squat, Remus gathers small, foam balls from the basket next to him and takes up space next to the two interviewers. The women pick up a pile of notes and read off the questions one by one.
“Pandora, what is the reason for driving with number 22?” Emmeline asks, laughing as she watches Remus throw balls that Pandora manages to catch more times than not. “Don’t lose your stance!”
Pandora puffs out air. “It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song,” she announces, catching a ball.
“Severus,” Dorcas turns to face the man, “how would you explain your job to a toddler in Romanian?”
“Mașini rapide care conduc în cercuri,” is the fast answer.
“Which means..?”
“Fast cars driving in circles,” Severus translates. He throws one of the balls back to Remus, who fails to catch it.
More and more questions are being asked, and both drivers keep on standing and answering with ease. Here and there, someone starts to tremble because of the strain, but both hold out pretty well.
“We’re ten minutes in,” Dorcas announces to the camera. “Neither has fallen yet, but it’s getting tougher to keep standing now. This next question is for both of you, and whoever answers first gets a break of ten seconds. The question is: Who’ll comes out on top this year?”
“Me!” both yell, almost exactly at the same time.
Dorcas turns to her intern. “Remus, the honour is yours. Who was faster?”
Remus pales, and his eyes widen comically. Dorcas, kind of, feels bad, but it’s also hilarious. It’s her firm believe that the life of an intern should include hardships like these. Is it cruel? Maybe, but it’s fun.
“Uh,” Remus begins, clearing his throat. “I’m gonna go with Severus?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer, but the driver is already standing up and stretching his limbs.
“Very well,” Dorcas nods. She shifts her notes and continues with the questions.
In the end, it’s Pandora who stays standing the longest. Severus’ ten second break did not work out in his favour.
🏎
Free Practice is the perfect time to test how well the new changes to the car will hold up. There are three sessions of an hour each, with two on Friday and one on Saturday, and it’s a way for the racers to get familiar with the circuit, as well as how the car responds to the corners, straights, and the occasional banking.
Today, it’s Friday afternoon, and it’s the second practice session. Marlene and Benjy are discussing strategies while both their drivers are testing out the new developments.
It’s hot, and Marlene is so glad their piece of the pit wall has a fan, even if it’s working against the warm breeze coming in from all around. That one teeny-tiny brush of cold air against her neck does wonders.
Australia is hot, and especially during summer time. Still, it’s the perfect location for the start of the F1 season. The fans are ready, the drivers are ready, and no one can wait for lights out on Sunday.
“Frank still struggles with the balance,” Benjy says while looking through his notes. “I’m hoping he’ll adjust today, and that the changes we’ve made haven’t made it worse but we’ll see.”
Marlene nods. “Yeah, James was complaining about the balance, too. He said he could work around it, but I’m still anxious about it. We’ve fixed the breaks on both cars after Layla spotted the crossed wiring, though, so that’s one thing less to worry about.”
“Thank God for Layla,” Benjy grins. “She’s one hell of a mechanic.”
“Amen,” Marlene smirks back. She happens to notice Zoricus walking up to them in her peripheral vision, which tells her that the Griffin Racing drivers are ready to jump into their cars.
Free Practice session two is ready to go.
Putting on her headphones, Marlene waits until James checks in before pushing the button that allows her to talk back to only him. There are more buttons before her, but they serve no value to her, at this moment.
“I am Jamir Puttar,” James says as his radio check, “and I send this message to my engineer: I am here, I am home.”
Marlene rolls her eyes. “Okay, Optimus, roll out.”
James does, in fact, roll out of the garage once Layla signals him that it’s alright. Frank is right behind him, and they line up behind one of the Prime Blossom drivers. A quick glance at the screen before her tells Marlene that it’s the car with the number 29, which is David Travers’ car.
“Ahead of you is Travers, behind Frank there’s Lestrange,” Marlene informs her driver. “Track temperature is a little higher than the weather report you’ve seen this morning, but that’s not an issue. Start slow and build up to the fast laps. Spare your tyres, James, we need them on Sunday.”
“Copy,” is the simple reply, but that’s alright, because the light at the end of the pit lane has turned green, which means the drivers are allowed onto the track.
One by one, cars venture onto the circuit. They navigate their way through the corners and warm up their tyres just enough to start a fast lap without damaging much of the tyre or losing their grip because the warm up wasn’t good enough.
This is the part Marlene loves about racing. Everyone is testing their limits, and no one is expected to one-up anyone yet. All they can do is get familiar with the track, with the car, with the crowd. It’s a welcome party before the fight begins, and to Marlene it feels like a warm hug after being away from home for a long time.
“They’re bouncing,” Benjy notes once their drivers have warmed up their tyres well enough, and Marlene sighs as she notices the same on her screen. She had, actually, hoped their team had fixed the problem, but it appears they hadn’t.
When James pushes for his fast lap, Marlene keeps her eyes on the speed of the car. She writes down where the speed fails, and is surprised to see it’s on the straight.
Pushing the button before her to speak to James, she begins talking. “What’s going on in the straight?”
“The front wing,” James complains through gritted teeth. “I can feel it pulling me back.”
Marlene is quick to push the button to speak to other engineers back in the garage to compare their notes, which come back much the same. She turns to Benjy, but he shakes his head, indicating his driver doesn’t have the same problem.
“Alright,” Marlene tells James, closing her eyes just for a second to clear her head. This is no time for rash decisions, she needs to be clever about this. “Okay, box box. We’ll fix this, Puttar.”
It’s safer to find out what’s wrong within the safety of their pit box, rather than waiting for it to get worse on track. If they were to wait, the consequences could be disastrous, and no one wants to crash their car during Free Practice.
With the confirmation that he’s heard her order, Marlene releases the radio button and turns to Zoricus, who’s just been watching them for the moment being. He raises an eyebrow at her to show her he won’t help her navigate this unless she starts talking.
“We’ve been out for all of ten minutes,” Marlene begins, doubt clouding her tone. She isn’t sure what the rules, exactly, are any more. Not with how the FIA has been changing almost anything in their rule book since she’s started in this sport. “This is not telling us anything other than that something went wrong with adjusting the wing. If we find the problem, and we fix it without clearing it, we’ll get a fine.”
Zoricus frowns deeply as he crosses his arms. “Is this a race?” he asks, not unkindly.
“Not yet,” she answers with a frown of her own.
“Then we can adjust the wing,” he tells her matter-of-factly. “You’ve been doing this for four years, McKinnon. The rules haven’t changed that much, yet.”
Marlene grins, finally getting the confirmation she wanted about the rules. “Not if Minnie can help it,” she jokes.
Zoricus chuckles. “Don’t let her catch you calling her that.”
Minerva McGonagall is Marlene’s biggest example in motor sport. As a child, she had a poster of the woman on her bedroom wall, proudly showing to all young girls that motor sport isn’t only for men.
McGonagall had been the first woman to compete in a Formula One race, as well as the first woman to score points. She was on her way to becoming a championship winner when she was disqualified for the stupidest reason ever; she fell in love with a fellow racer.
That, however, didn’t stop her from making her mark in history. Oh, no. Minerva McGonagall made it her mission to change the rules to be inclusive and only about racing. Whatever the racers do in their downtime has no influence on the sport any more, and it’s all thanks to her.
Meeting McGonagall had been, and will always be, Marlene’s biggest achievement. They met during the FIA sanctioned karting championships and Marlene has been star-struck ever since.
She likes to think they’re somewhat friendly now, but you never know with McGonagall. That woman is known for being stone-faced, but Marlene is convinced there’s a huge softy underneath that stern exterior, and she’s determined to be the one to find out if it’s true.
For now, though, Marlene has to find out how to help her own best friend to get the best results this weekend. Finding out what can crack McGonagall will be something for a later date.
🏎
How do you take care of a four year old when you’re not even in your own bed most of the year? That is the question that James is struggling with for more than two weeks now.
Of course, he’s not alone in all this. He knows Lávenkount has the same issue, only she has a daughter who’s a year younger than his Harry.
During testing, his friend Lily Evans showed up with their child. She was very sorry to spring it on him out of the blue, but she’d gotten a movie gig for a very big company, and couldn’t let this opportunity pass her by. Sadly, this meant she couldn’t take Harry until after the summer, since filming would start mid-March and she has to prepare.
Of course, James said yes to taking Harry for that period of time. How couldn’t he? The boy is his own son! There was no chance in hell he would’ve told her he had no time, even if it had been the truth. Only, now he realises just how busy the life of a Formula One racer actually is during a season.
Luckily, James has some amazing people around him who are all too happy to help him out.
With it being the first race week of the season, James’ mum Euphemia - or Effie, as she forces everyone to call her - flew over with him from London. She’s been a tremendous help so far with adjusting Harry to the crazy that is this sport, but James still worries.
On Thursday, the little boy was still recovering from a jet-lag, while James had to attend to his media duties. When he came back to their hotel room, his mum informed him that Harry had been crying all day, but the moment James stepped through the door he went right to sleep.
On Friday, Harry got to take a look around the pit box. He’s met all the crew, and has become fast friends with some of the mechanics. The boy even got his own headphones to listen in, despite not understanding all the tech-talk. The Netflix crew loved to follow him around after seeing that before Zoricus stepped in.
Today, however, is a busy day. It’s Qualifying, which means that James can’t have any distractions when he’s near his car. He has to get in the right mindset and get everything he can out of that car to get a fast time on the board.
After twenty minutes, the five slowest cars are out and know their place for the race the next day. There’s a short break, after which the fifteen who are left have to try all over again to get one of the fastest times, with the slowest five falling off, again. The left over ten go out one last time to try with all their might to get the fastest time, and the one that manages it gets to be the one driving at the front during the race.
Provided they don’t screw up their start once the lights go out on Sunday, of course.
James is aiming for that pole position. He’ll settle for second place, because he knows he can catch up if his car is alright.
Today is the real test. To finally find out just what his car can do when there is much traffic on the track, all with different strategies.
He’s already had a talk with Zoricus and Marlene about their plan for today and which tyres to use when.
There used to be a lot of options for tyres, but it became a hassle to transport, so Pirelli - the company supplying the tyres - has narrowed it down to three. The C3, C4 and C5 are the three softest, but they do their job well. Of course, there’s also special tyres for when it rains, but with how hot it is in Melbourne right now, those have been locked away.
Not very far, but they’re the first ones the mechanics will find when a tyre change has to be done.
For Australia, Griffin Racing likes to stay with the medium tyres - the C4 - for as long as they can so that they can finish the race on hard tyres - the C3. This means that James can use his soft tyres - the C5 - during Qualifying and build up to his true speed. He just needs to make sure that the tyre he ends on will be the tyre he will start the race on.
“Papa?” a small voice asks, and James goes through his knees to say hello to his son.
“Hi, Harry,” James smiles and holds out his arms to encourage the boy to come to him. Harry’s a very shy child, but his teacher said to encourage him to do things on his own to make him understand that it’s not as scary as he thinks it is. “Are you having fun?”
The boy nods and he reaches for his father with one arm, he has the other arm’s thumb in his mouth. “Cars!”
“That’s right,” James laughs, picking the boy up to walk him closer to the red car. There’s, of course, the number 95 plastered on all sides of the car to show who’s driving it, but there’s also a sticker somewhere of Lightning McQueen, James’ biggest inspiration. Next to his own father, of course, but that is a given.
It’s been nearly twenty years since James lost his father during a race, and he carries a tribute to that man on his helmet during every race.
Fleamont Puttar’s number 32 shines right above the helmet’s visor, always in a striking gold, no matter the design on the rest of the helmet.
“Papa safe?” Harry asks, and James presses a kiss to the boy’s head.
“I’ll be as safe as I can be,” he promises. “And now that you’re here, you’ll be my good luck charm, alright?”
“Yes!” the boy shots, making some heads turn to them, but neither give much attention to their surroundings. “Can I see inside?”
James sighs and puts the boy down. “Not today, little man. Today, Papa’s got to drive it really fast, so tomorrow, I can be one of the first ones to start.”
“Can I see tomorrow?” Harry asks instead, making the man laugh again.
“Sure, Bambi,” James chuckles, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Can you go to Bebe now? You can watch me from the big screens.”
“Kissie?”
The boy is already leaning forwards, so all James has to do is tilt his head so Harry can kiss his cheek like a young child usually does. Afterwards, Harry skips along to his grandmother, who picks him up to set him down on the counter before her. They both get headphones handed to them, and Effie helps the child put his on before she puts hers on.
James smiles at the sight of his family and pulls on his balaclava to begin his Qualifying-prep.
He’s certain this is gonna be a good weekend for the team, and it’s just the start of the season.
🏎
Let’s be clear, Regulus Black loves racing. He’s always loved racing, and he probably always will. He’s grown up with it, knows every aspect of it, and one day, he’ll own part of it.
The thing he absolutely hates about racing, is that he’s reliable on other people.
Oh, and media activities.
The Sunday in a race week is his favourite day of the week, because he spends most of it in a car, and the other half sleeping or indulging in festivities to celebrate a win. If it’s not his win, then his team’s, or he won’t be there.
The feeling of five lights going on one by one gives him life. The anticipation of when they go out, of timing it just right so he won’t stall and can get away from the start the first makes his body sore more than any drug can do.
Today is no different, for today it’s race day.
Melbourne is cheering them on, but Regulus blocks it all out to focus on the lights right above the finish line, beneath the clock. He watches as the big hand touches the hour mark, indicating that they can all drive a formation lap, to warm up their tyres some more.
Regulus starts on pole after Jamir Puttar’s time got deleted because of track limits. The man still gets to start fourth, but he has to work to get to the top of the field, while Regulus will have free air before him. He’s only got to worry about building speed and staying ahead of everyone, checking his mirrors to see how far behind everyone is.
Riding back up to the front line, Regulus has to wait for everyone to arrive behind him before the green flag gets waved and the lights starts to go on.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Out.
Regulus presses down on the gas pedal with all his might and speeds ahead, straight to the first turn. He has his cousin Bellatrix right behind him, but she’s got her team orders to make it more difficult for those behind her, not her own team mate ahead of her.
Behind Bellatrix, Regulus notices a blue car, but the number isn’t visible, so he can only guess who it is. Behind them, it’s Puttar, and it seems like he’s gaining, and fast.
When Regulus comes up to the start/finish again, he risks a glance to the scoreboard to see if Puttar has gained a position, just to find him having already passed Bellatrix.
How did he do that?
Historically, Noir Racing isn’t the best in Melbourne. The circuits where they outshine everyone else are their home track in France, the one in Texas and the one in England. Those are the tracks where they mostly win a secured 1-2 on the podium. Australia is one of their worse tracks.
Regulus pushes harder, trying to gain more speed to stay ahead of Puttar, but he feels his tyres degrading quickly. His team decided to go for a two-stopper, which is a normal strategy, if only they had chosen the medium tyres to start him on. No, they gave him soft tyres, and those degrade a whole lot quicker than the other two options.
“Manage your tyres, Reg,” comes the voice of Barty Crouch Jr through his radio. “You need to last at least another ten laps with them before we can swap.”
Gritting his teeth, Regulus doesn’t respond to his engineer and keeps on pushing. It’s all and well that he needs to spare his tyres, but he also needs to build up a gap between him and the number two so they have a bit of breathing room to do a pit stop later on.
Melbourne holds a circuit they need to lap at least 58 times, and it’s the job of both the strategists as the drivers to come up with a plan for the tyres that lasts them the whole race. The team will see the damage on their screens, but Regulus feels it in the car. He feels it when the tyres waste away, he feels it when something is loose, he feels it when something breaks apart, and it’s his job to get that car across the finish line after every lap, or into the pit lane in one piece to get it fixed before it’s too late.
Noir Racing is owned by his family, and every family member has a role in the company, but the mechanics… It seems the mechanics were sleeping on the job or something, because there’s just suddenly absolutely no speed.
Regulus sees the red Griffin Racing car coming closer and closer in his mirrors, and it frustrates him to no end. Where did his speed go?
Pressing the button to use the radio, Regulus practically growls at his engineer, throwing out words in the heat of his anger.
“Barty, you better find me more power,” he demands, pushing with all his might to drive faster, but with no one before him, he can’t use the Drag Reduction System, so he can’t steal some extra speed.
Puttar, however, is within a second of him, and Regulus sees the bastard having his back-wing opened, gaining on him with each passing second.
“I’m sorry, Reg, we don’t,” Barty replies. “Our only option is to box for new tyres.”
Yeah. Regulus scoffs to himself. Australia is a shit show for him, anyway. He held off the Griffin for fifteen laps, but he can’t go on these tyres for much longer, or he risk it blowing up under him.
“Fine,” Regulus grumbles, but as soon as he sees the white lines that mark the entrance of the pit lane, he steers that way and gives up his position to the Indian driver behind him. The only small victory he gets out of this is that Puttar has to adjust to the free air, and Bellatrix is breathing down his neck.
Next race, he’ll get his win. Even if he has to play dirty for it.