“You should let Holland give you a makeover,” he announced the conclusion of this logical train of thought. Sam looked at him like he needed to visit a Healer who specialized in long term spell damage.
“Shut up, moron, I’m trying to have a conversation with you. My team,” Sam worked in research and marketing, and almost always knew what was happening with the company before anyone else, “are leaning towards Switzerland for the next expansion.”
If Danny was in his animagus form his ears would have revolved towards her. Switzerland was on the list of Monty-approved countries Holland could visit. So far he’d worked in Armenia and Bulgaria, and he’d had to spend lots of time away from them. Danny was already imagining exploring the Alps with Holland—he had his grandmother's ring safely hidden. He could take it along and propose on a mountain-top covered with a fresh layer of snow—when Sam interrupted his daydream with a snap of her fingers.
“Try to focus. Now I’m sure you can pull some strings because nepotism is strong and well in this organization, but at the moment your name’s not on the list for the support team.”
“Oh.” His shoulders sagged. That was fair, Danny supposed. He was still closing off the project in Bulgaria, and the summer’s intake of interns would want their chance to travel. He was hoping he’d be able to take on more responsibilities with his next project—he’d been studying hard and had been granted his magical export license—but it didn’t have to be in Switzerland. He wasn’t going to use his connections to get what he wanted in business; other purebloods might think that was acceptable but Danny had developed some integrity. He was pretty sure Sam knew that. She just liked to tease him. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Look.” She stopped in the corridor. Danny was worried she might push him into a supply closet again. “I want to go to Switzerland, and I wouldn’t normally ask this, but if you hear anyone asking which researchers to take, you make sure my name is mentioned, got it?”
“Yes, of course.” This wasn’t the first time Sam had helped him out at Cirrus. Danny was happy to return the favor. “Do you want me to pull some strings to get you there?” he asked, corners of his lips twitching upwards.
Sam glared at him. “I’ll pretend you didn’t ask me that and we can still be friends.”
Danny grinned. “We’re friends?”
“You said we’re friends. No takebacks.”
After lunch, Danny returned to his desk only to be summoned minutes later by Josef Hammond, the head of his department. Danny liked him, and seeing his boss hammered when they went out one night with the Bulgarian Quidditch team did nothing to damage their mutual respect.
Hammond’s large corner office was filled with Cirrus merchandise, his walls covered by photographs of famous Quidditch players on Cirrus broomsticks. “Danny, come on in. Any updates from Sofia?”
They talked about the Bulgaria project for a few minutes, and then Hammond paused before asking, “Do you speak French?”
“I get by.”
Hammond steepled his fingers. “Nothing is decided yet, but we’re thinking of expanding into Switzerland, maybe starting in the spring.” Danny kept his expression neutral. “You’ve done great work in Armenia and Bulgaria. I’ve got you in mind for joining the Switzerland team,” so Sam was wrong. Danny bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning, “as management.”
“Not the full project, obviously, but something like a deputy coordinator or co-supervisor or,” he waved his wand dismissively, “whatever titles they come up with in personnel. Would you be interested?”
“Um, yes, definitely. Very interested.” Now Danny allowed himself to grin.
Hammond smiled back. “Good. Nothing’s final, so keep it to yourself for now. In the new year we’ll make sure your certificates are up to date and can get you some management training.”
“Sounds excellent. Thank you.”
Danny left Hammond’s office and went straight to find Sam. “Looks like I might be going to Switzerland after all,” he said nonchalantly. “And if I do go, I promise I’ll take you with me.”