Testing
Traveling from London to Bahrain was an adventure in more ways than one. Firstly, Remus wasn't particularly fond of flying. It wasn't due to fear; he actually admired the physics that kept a metal giant in the air, moving faster than you can even imagine, and he was also somewhat fascinated by heights. The real issue was the inability to escape the company he was with during the flight.
Private flights were a luxury reserved for drivers, team principals, and sometimes top engineers or personal trainers. Most crew members, however, had to rely on commercial flights or even road travel, especially if the next race was in a nearby European country. Transporting a Formula One team around the globe was a complex, costly, and often frustrating task. Some mechanics preferred traveling by cars and trucks, necessary for hauling the garage, pit wall, cafeteria, and all the essentials.
What Remus hated more than anything were ferries, which explained his preference for traveling alone or with just a few team members.
Secondly, the weather in Bahrain was a stark contrast to London's cold and wet February. In Bahrain, the sun shone brightly, and despite it being winter, the temperature allowed for T-shirts. And the humidity wasn’t Remus’s favourite aspect if he wanted to be honest.
Thirdly, Remus Lupin wasn't exactly eager to start working again. He was plagued by a headache, felt exhausted by merely existing, and he wanted to be alone.
It wasn't that he disliked his job. On the contrary, he knew he was fortunate to have it, thank you very much. Sometimes, life just didn't align with his current mood.
Beneath a layer of fatigue and gloom, Remus felt a spark of excitement. For the first time this season, they could assess the cars of other teams, though no one would foolishly reveal their full potential yet.
Inside Red Bull Racing, they were already familiar with their car. Remus hadn’t worked on it in real life yet, but he knew how to build it from the provided parts. Seeing the beast in person made his heart race with anticipation.
“It’s strong,” Peter remarked, startling Remus with his sudden appearance. “This could be our year.”
“We always say that, but let’s hope it’s true this time.”
They were standing in the garage, next to the car. They could only use one of them for the winter testing, so everyone was working on that one, but during the races his post was next to Black’s car. He didn’t mind that much; if one of the drivers annihilate their car, everyone stays in for the night anyways.
He also had to admit that Sirius Black was always polite to the mechanics, if not exactly grateful.
Some of the cars were already out and running on the track. A glance at the screens showed James Potter completing his second lap in the new Ferrari, clocking 1:34:274. These lap times weren’t significant. Last year's pole lap was 1:28:997, but that was no benchmark, as new regulations meant slightly slower cars.
As Remus shifted his attention away from the screen, Marlene and Black entered the garage, suited up and helmets in hand. Marlene’s hair was neatly braided, a pre-race ritual, while Black’s long, black curls cascaded freely over his shoulders. It looked like Marlene would take the stage first this morning.
“Of course, James is already out there,” Black commented, shaking his head. “God, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”
“So you really turned down Ferrari’s offer?” Marlene asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Black replied with a smirk, irking Remus.
Marlene shrugged and began climbing into the car bearing the number ‘7’.
“Why did you turn it down, though?” asked one of the strategists, usually shadowing Lily, who was now whispering something to Marlene.
“Huh?” Black seemed momentarily caught off guard.
“The offer. Minnie spilled the beans during a meeting a few weeks back.”
Black scanned the garage, as if ensuring the entire team was listening, or perhaps Remus was just being moody again. But he was listening closely anyways because everyone is fucking nosy in Formula One.
“Come on, everyone knows the situation. Jumping into that Ferrari means trying to fill Alice’s shoes,” Black finally responded.
“And you don’t think you can?” Remus blurted out, without thinking. Black's gaze lingered on him for an uncomfortably long time before responding.
“Of course, I can. I just don’t want to be remembered as a replacement. Plus, I don’t really fit the Ferrari image.”
Everyone laughed as if it was the funniest joke, though Remus suspected Black wasn't entirely joking.
“Hey, can someone give me a hand here?” Marlene called out, prompting several mechanics to rush to her assistance.
Black walked over to the pit wall, taking a spot between Minerva McGonagall, the team principal, and Lily. The redhead sent a wink back at Remus, who could only grimace in response.
Ten minutes later, Marlene was on the track. With nothing else pressing, Remus tuned into the team radio, preparing mentally for the adjustments based on Marlene's feedback. Peter stood next to him, fiddling with a wrench and fixated on the screens.
After five laps, Marlene came in, and the garage buzzed with activity around her car.
Remus took pride in his team's well-oiled machine-like efficiency. Their ability to find solutions in seemingly impossible situations and work faster than any other team was something to boast about, especially if you aimed to win a championship.
By midday, Marlene had finished her session, and the team decided it was time for lunch. Most headed to the cafeteria in small groups, but Remus and Peter stayed behind to change the car's number for Black’s afternoon session.
Sirius Black raced under the number 33, a choice Remus found particularly inconvenient for those applying the stickers.
“He couldn’t have picked a worse number,” Remus muttered while working on the sticker.
“Almost,” Peter chuckled. “Eight would be worse. Imagine eighty-eight.”
“It’s a pity I can’t change it now.”
Remus felt a wave of heat rush up his neck. He should have been more aware of his surroundings before voicing his complaints.
Sirius Black, however, didn’t seem upset. He leaned against a wall, watching them with a slight smile and his suit pulled down to his waist, revealing his fireproofs which did wonders to his torso. Not that Remus noticed such things.
“Sorry,” Peter mumbled. “I’m sure you had your reasons for choosing thirty-three.”
“Sure about that?” Remus quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Marlene picked seven just because it was the first number that came to mind!”
Black’s grin widened. “It’s not that profound for me either. I just love the shape of the number three. And what’s better than three? Thirty-three, because it has two of them!”
Remus struggled to hide his smile.
“Would you change it for us?” he asked, managing to keep his expression neutral. “That’s quite nice.
“Yes, of course. I was thinking about eighty-eight? Does that work for you guys?”
Remus couldn’t contain his laughter, and soon Black joined in, his laughter resembling a bark but still sounding oddly pleasant.
“Remus and Peter, right?” Black asked, still smiling. “I’m good with names,” he added, noting Remus’s surprised look. They hadn’t interacted much personally, aside from essential communication about the car.
Seizing the moment, Remus quipped, “And you must be Marlene, right?” sending Peter into fits of laughter.
“Oh, absolutely, what gave me away?” Black played along. “It must be the blond hair. Or the butt – I’ve heard it's quite popular on TikTok, but that’s okay, I take it as a compliment.”
“Please tell me you don’t watch edits about yourself there.”
Black just winked, stirring a strange sensation in Remus’s stomach.
“God, these fucking drivers,” Remus mumbled under his breath.
“Well, this fucking driver is starving. How about we move this party to the cafeteria?”
And so they all made their way to lunch. Remus was tempted to sit near Black but opted instead to join Lily, who was in deep conversation with Mary Macdonald.
Mary was the chief designer at the team, specialised in aerodynamics. Lily quickly became friends with her after Mary arrived at Milton Keynes two years ago, both of them realising that competition was in their blood, and if normal people had trains of thoughts, they had a whole fucking cargo ship speeding through their heads at the speed of sound.
Remus also enjoyed Mary’s company, but sometimes felt like his brain is going to explode if he has to listen to the two girls for even one more minute.
Their lunchtime conversation revolved around the day’s testing, speculating about other teams' performances. Testing was all about concealing true capabilities while trying to gauge the competition – a tricky balancing act.
“Mercedes has always been amazing in not revealing their true potential before the first race.” Mary took a bite from her sandwich then placed it onto her tray so she can gesture with her hands as much as she loves to. “Their sidepod in interesting though. Seems like a completely different direction than the one we took but could be working. They have a good team.”
“The guys at Ferrari seem anxious,” Lily noted, her eyes glinting with hope. “They were the first on track but only put in like, what, fifteen laps? Give or take. I hope their car gave up already.”
“Oi Evans, watch out! We’ll think you’re a Ferrari fan in no time if you speak like that!”
“I am a Ferrari fan. Everybody is a Ferrari fan. I just want us to win more than them.”
Mary and Remus exchanged knowing looks.
“What about the other teams?” Marlene chimed in, now dressed in shorts and a Red Bull shirt. “And don’t forget, Regulus hasn’t driven the Mercedes yet. Rosier’s times don’t tell the whole story.”
“I haven’t even seen their Black today,” Mary mused. “He’s probably driving tomorrow.”
“Not that Regulus is easy to spot anyway,” Marlene added with a shrug. “He hides away every chance he gets.”
“Nothing like his brother,” Lily added. “I think attention is what keeps Sirius alive.”
“Maybe that’s why he returned to racing,” Remus speculated, glancing at Black from time to time. The man was captivating, effortlessly drawing everyone’s attention with his laughter and animated gestures. The attention whore.
“Well, it’s certainly making things interesting,” Mary agreed. “Our marketing team is in for an easy year. The Black brothers are a goldmine for publicity.”
“More publicity means more sponsors, and more sponsors mean more money for development,” Lily added pragmatically.
“The only issue is Mercedes gets the same attention boost,” Remus pointed out.
Lily laughed. “You just hate Sirius, so you see the downside in everything related to him.”
“I don’t hate Black,” Remus defended himself.
“You hate everyone.”
“I refuse to admit to such outrageous accusation,” Remus retorted, sandwich in hand. “I don’t hate everyone. Just most people.”
“Including Sirius?”
Remus took a huge bite of his sandwich, gesturing to his full mouth as an excuse not to answer. Lily scoffed and turned back to Mary, resuming their conversation about the top teams.
Lunch ended, and although everyone needed a power nap, work beckoned. Sirius, now with his hair tied back in a ponytail, climbed into the car sporting his number. The mechanics swarmed around, perfecting every detail. Frank, Black’s race engineer, assisted with the safety belts, discussing something intently with him.
Soon enough, the sleek Red Bull car, adorned with number 33, hit the track for its afternoon session. Black’s presence on the track drew eyes from across the paddock, ensuring he received all the attention he needed – and perhaps deserved.
To Remus’s surprise, Black managed to keep the car intact throughout the afternoon.
✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩
On the second day of testing, Regulus Black appeared in the paddockdoing everything in his power to seem invisible. Unfortunately, ‘everything in his power’ wasn’t quite enough to keep him under the radar this time.
Regulus was acutely aware of what being exceptional in a sport entailed. Inevitably, it catapulted you into celebrity status, consistently in the public eye and often the subject of trashy articles. This aspect of his career was something he loathed entirely, but if it was the price to pay for a shot at winning the world championship, he was more than ready to pay it.
He had grown accustomed to the attention, particularly since he had been so close to clinching the title at various points last season. Yet Alice had always been a step faster, Ferrari a touch better. And now, his situation was further complicated by the presence of his idiot of a brother.
It had been years since Regulus had last seen Sirius – years that felt like a lifetime. They were practically still children when their parents disowned Sirius after he ran away. The memory of their final conversation in the dim light of Sirius's room at Black Manor still lingered painfully in his mind.
“Just come with me, Reggie, please. I’m begging you. Don’t leave me alone!”
“You’re the one leaving me, Sirius.”
Regulus tried to push these thoughts aside. He was infuriated last year upon realizing how strong his reaction was to see his brother again.
And then there was James Potter.
James, the man who had essentially taken Sirius away from him, was now, it seemed, poised to snatch away Regulus’s dream too. Regulus had harboured ambitions of driving for Ferrari for as long as he could remember, even though his fans staunchly believed he would remain loyal to Mercedes indefinitely.
Driving for Mercedes was acceptable to him – as long as there was no chance of racing in Ferrari's iconic red and as long as Mercedes provided a competitive car. Critics might argue that Regulus lacked loyalty, but he paid them no mind. In his quest to surpass Alice or even to become the best, having the finest car, regardless of the team, was non-negotiable.
“You’re not entirely here, are you?” Dorcas Meadowes, his team principal, noted perceptively after he climbed out of the car and removed his helmet, his body drenched in sweat. He felt a pang of disgust at the sensation, the allure of a cold shower beckoning yet knowing full well he’d be back in the car post-lunch, doomed to sweat profusely once again.
“What makes you say that?” Regulus queried, making a conscious effort to ignore the clinging wetness of his fireproofs. “I was decent out there, especially considering it’s my first real stint in the car this season.”
"Nah, you were fine," Dorcas dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. "It's more about your expression and voice. Are you alright? You're not sick, are you?"
"I'm fine," Regulus responded, trying to sound convincing. "Don't worry. It's just about getting used to the car. It demands all my focus."
"Nothing could possibly challenge the brainpower of the great Regulus Black," Dorcas said with an encouraging smile, which Regulus returned somewhat reluctantly.
Dorcas Meadowes was, in Regulus's opinion, the ideal person for her role as team principal. Having led the team for several years, she consistently brought out the best of their situation. Regulus often felt that he might lose his sanity without her guidance.
Dorcas had a unique understanding of him. She could effortlessly read between the lines, grasping nuances that others often missed. With her support, Regulus managed to minimize his public appearances, adhere to a manageable schedule, and find those much-needed moments of quiet amidst the chaos.
Her management skills were exemplary, swiftly resolving conflicts, maintaining order, and fostering a genuine sense of teamwork. And now she sensed Regulus was upset and there is no getting away from a worrying Dorcas Meadowes.
"I'll fill you in over lunch," Regulus mumbled, starting to peel off his suit. He really wanted that shower.
"Alright," Dorcas agreed. "Would you like to join everyone, or should I bring something back just for the two of us?"
The expression on Regulus's face was answer enough, prompting a light laugh from Dorcas before she disappeared from the garage.
Regulus sat down on one of the mechanics' chairs, running a hand through his hair and grimacing as his fingers met the damp locks. The struggles of being a sportsman, he thought.
Their garage, situated right next to Red Bull's as a consequence of the previous year's constructor’s championship standings, was a sore reminder of their rivalry. Ferrari, having finished ahead of them, was on the other side. With most of the paddock away for lunch, Regulus was spared the prospect of encountering either his brother or James Potter for the time being, but the situation still made him anxious, and he wanted Dorcas to come back as soon as possible.
Luckily, Dorcas soon returned with two plates full of food and handed one to Regulus. "This is what your trainer recommended," she said, taking a seat beside him. "Let me guess – it's your brother that's preoccupying your thoughts, isn't it?"
Regulus rolled his eyes in acknowledgment. "It's not hard to figure that out."
He didn’t voice it, but James Potter was equally on his mind. He focused on his salad, attacking it with his fork, while Dorcas watched, a knowing smirk on her face.
"They're going to be formidable opponents, for sure. Sirius is fast, and his car seems strong as well," Dorcas commented, still observing him.
Regulus couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. "Comforting. Aren't you supposed to be boosting my morale?"
"I must be a realist too," Dorcas pointed out, using her fork to emphasize her point. "Our chances are still good. Just don’t let your brother get under your skin."
"I won’t. To be honest, I hardly even know him anymore. My concern isn’t because he is my brother; it's because he’s talented enough to be a serious threat," Regulus lied, trying to convince himself more than Dorcas. Sirius would make a terribly overused joke out of his choice of words, but he tried not to think about that.
"That's good to hear," Dorcas said confidently. "This could be our year. We have the best car we’ve had in years, and with Alice gone, you're the best driver on the grid."
Regulus challenged her, half-joking, "So you think I'm not as good as Alice? What does it say about me if even my own team principal has doubts?"
Dorcas playfully threw a pair of gloves at him. "I believe in you, Regulus. We both know Alice had experience that you’re still gaining. I won’t lie to make you feel better – it doesn’t bring us any closer to victory."
Regulus caught the gloves and tossed them back, not bothering to dispute her point. He appreciated this about Dorcas – her unwavering honesty. Some might criticize their dynamic because she openly recognized him as the team's primary driver, a fact she had made clear even to Evan when offering him his contract. There were no pretences with Dorcas, just stark reality, however harsh it might sometimes be.
"I'm better than my brother," Regulus declared after a brief pause, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.
Dorcas met his assertion with a confident nod. "I have no doubt about that," she responded. "You're also superior to James Potter. While Ferrari is undeniably strong competition, Potter is likely to struggle with the pressure in his first year with the team. He's prone to errors and adjusting to a significantly different car won't be easy for him."
Regulus exhaled deeply, feeling a slight relief in Dorcas's company amidst the whirlwind of his thoughts that had plagued him throughout the day.
"This is our year," he stated, finally lifting his gaze from his lunch to meet Dorcas's eyes with a renewed sense of determination.
"It certainly is," Dorcas agreed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I promised you a championship title when you joined, didn't I?"
And because Dorcas always kept it real, Regulus believed her.