Athena Potter was shocked. She was in the commentary booth that was dubbed the "Sky Race Control" when she had seen what had happened.

Sergio Perez had aquaplaned off the track into the hairpin in the opening lap. She had seen on the feed provided to her how the double yellow flags had been put up by the marshals. How a recovery vehicle had been placed on the tracks, drivers still going with no safety car being deployed.

How, had there been the potential for another incident like the one that had happened in 2014. The one that caused the death of her fellow driver, Jules Bianchi.

She remembered the comradery in the paddock, despite the drivers being in different teams, and she remembered how Jules had had an errant season, ones of ups and downs, his only race which resulted in a points gain being earlier that year in Monaco.

She remembered the run up to the race, eight years previously, the one that would be the final one for the Frenchman, the one that beforehand, she had announced her retirement from Formula One.

Watching as the red flags had been displayed, she saw how the cars had returned to the pits, and she hoped her nephew was ok.


Harry was in the garage of the AlphaTauri team, watching as the cars pulled in, and he was angry. Not with the choices that his two drivers had made, not with the move his son had done, but with the officials.

But he was angry with the race director, Eduardo Freitas. He was angry with the decision to put a recovery vehicle on the track, to put the drivers in the line of danger.

And he was angry with the choice by Mohammed Ben Sulayem to have to have the insane policy of having rotating race directors.

Heading through the garage, he could see Pierre Gasly, one of the two drivers that were in the team that he was due to take over properly for the new season, talking to Franz Tost, the person who he would be replacing.

He could see his boss, Dietrich Mateschitz, talking to Helmut Marko, discussing the situation, and he could see the other driver in the AlphaTauri team, Yuki Tsunoda, talking to his race engineer.

"What the fuck was the race director thinking of? Have they learnt nothing from 2014?" Harry could hear Pierre say to Franz. "If Yuki had lost control, if I had lost control, we could have died. Any one of us could have ended up like Jules."

Harry could understand where the Frenchman was coming from. The incoming Team Principal knew from talking to his team that Jules Bianchi was a childhood friend of the young driver, and how what had happened would have really shaken Pierre Gasly. He had a feeling that Charles Leclerc, over in the Ferrari garage, would probably be having some similar thoughts.

Turning round, he headed over to the founder of Red Bull, having made a decision.

Harry explained his plan, how he was going to canvass the Team Principals, how he was going to arrange for a delegation to discuss the situation with the FIA President, Mohammed Ben Sulayem.

Having been given the approval, Harry's first stop was to the Alfa Romeo garage next door, where he saw Jimmy hugging the oldest of the Potters present.

"You alright dad?" Al said, his headset around his neck, heading over to Harry. "When Jimmy came back in, granddad was just glad that he was alright. Well, sane at least, there again, are us Potters sane? Especially you, granddad, Aunt Athy, Jimmy… me when I was younger… I think Rosie and Hugo are the only ones who are sane, and mum and gran…there again mum and gran married into the family…"

"Al…" Harry said, just glad to see two of his three sons were there, hoping that Hugo wasn't watching the race on television. "The question is, are you ok? I mean, thank goodness you're here and not out on the track, and…you know what I mean."

"Dad…I'm… I'm alright. Apart from almost needing a new pair of boxers, seeing Jimmy risking his life again, I'm alright." Al said, watching as his dad adopted the face that he did when he normally wanted the truth. "Seriously dad, I'm alright, it's just Jimmy I'm worried about. A near miss here, a crash at Silverstone, he's going to need more than a late night with hot chocolate and marshmallows. I mean, look at what happened at Spa, same with Paul Ricard, and Monza too."

Harry stepped back and looked at his sons, and realised something. All throughout his career, all the way back to karting, Jimmy had been one for the occasional risky move despite his calmness, whereas Al had been the level-headed one.

He needed to speak to his Alfa Romeo counterpart, but at the same time, he had a job to do.


The 10 Team Principals, Harry and the Aston Martin team owner, Draco Malfoy were all outside the office of FIA President at the circuit, ready to express their displeasure with Mohammed Ben Sulayem.

Harry was shocked in a way, shocked because the owner of the Aston Martin team had actually agreed with him about the dangerous decisions by the Race Director. A Potter and a Malfoy, agreeing… the world was going to end.

But down on the track, Jimmy was in his car, as the five minute warning had been given. Whilst the red flag period had happened, he had told his grandfather about his worries, about how he had remembered what had happened the last time he had been here, but at the same time he had also heard what Al had said to their dad, how Al was concerned about him.

And at the same time, Jimmy was concerned about Al. How he was giving up a career that, in a way he didn't really want, but at the same time enjoyed doing, all because of a few rumours which turned into a mini investigation.

He knew that his own attitude to racing had changed since Silverstone, how despite his initial reservations of getting back in the car, he had got back in the swing of things, but with more aggression, and there was a reason for it.

He was worried about not getting a seat for next year.

He was worried about ending up like his own dad had been after his first two years, bouncing around the bottom half of the title race, then ending up having to go for a test and reserve drive.

Jimmy had been hearing the rumours on the grid that two of the drivers would not be returning next year to a full time seat, how both Mick Schumacher and Daniel Riccardo would be finding themselves replaced. And he didn't want to be the third.

He had been assured by his Team Principal that there were no plans to reshuffle him out of the team, but still had that feeling, niggling in the back of his head.

What had concerned Jimmy, in the here and now, was the way this race was going, how they had had to start a race in appalling conditions, with the Race Director then sending recovery vehicles onto the track, how his season had been marred with the attitude of Scorpius Malfoy, how he he'd been causing some problems on the track.

Jimmy was also worried about his dad. He had heard on Thursday that his dad had been summoned to testify before the FIA committee that were investigating an alleged breach of the budget cap by Red Bull, and that as his father was an advisor to the team up until the middle of the current season, working with AlphaTauri, Red Bull and the Red Bull Junior Team on the occasional element of driver development, he had been privy to some budget information.

"Three minutes to go" Al shouted as the 'easy ups', the gazebo looking structures that teams used to cover the cars during the rain, were being got ready to removed. "You ok?"

Jimmy looked at his brother, and at the row of cars in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

Jimmy saw his brother's face and sighed. "Yeah, I'm alright. I just need to get this race done, and then there's only four more weekends to go. I'm going to miss working with you, you know."

"Me too, James." Al muttered, as he headed to his position by the Alfa Romeo garage. "Me too."

Putting his steering controls back to where they should be, Jimmy sighed. It was time to do his job. To race.