When he was done packing, Draco found that an owl had come and gone through his kitchen window, leaving behind a note from Danforth. Grimacing at the handwriting, which was just as loathsome as the owner of it, Draco mentally recorded the hotel information, then lit the parchment on fire.

The hotel he was staying at was apparently the same one that Puddlemere United was in, because there were scores of people outside, desperate to get a glimpse of the new Seeker. Draco still had no idea who the Seeker was, and he didn't particularly care. He shoved his way through the crowd and entered the hotel.

"Can I help you?" a witch with brown, pointed glasses asked. Draco nodded.

"I've got a reservation under Dan Danforth," he said. The witch checked her list and then summoned a key with the flick of her wand.

"Room 314, Mr. Danforth," she said, handing him the key. Draco nearly gagged at being called "Mr. Danforth" but Malfoy have more control than that. He merely seethed inwardly as he headed for the elevator.

Apparently Danforth had gotten the room closest possible to the Quidditch players, because all seven of them were crowded at the far end of the hall. Draco sighed and decided now was as good a time as any to start interviewing. He dropped his small trunk in front of his door and made his way coolly down the hall.

He recognized Oliver Wood immediately without help of the captain's jersey. His eyes scanned the group quickly before he reached the closeness that obligated conversation. His eyes fell on messy black hair and bright green eyes. The glasses were gone, but Draco recognized him immediately. His eyes narrowed and he spun around and stomped back down the hall. He unlocked his door, kicked his trunk in, locked the door, and Disapparated.

Draco reappeared in the Daily Prophet building with a loud, angry crack! He stormed down the hall to Danforth's office. On his way, he passed a terrified-looking Liz. She looked perfectly healthy for someone who was so sick she couldn't possibly do a report.

"Danforth!" Draco snarled, kicking open the door. Dan was at his desk, feet propped up, buried in a rival newspaper. Dan folded the paper in half and said, "Dray! What're you doing here? You're supposed to be reporting!" Draco glared at him.

"I am! And here's what I have to report: No fucking way." Danforth's eyebrows shot up and he looked guiltily at the furious Malfoy.

"Listen, Dray, baby, really, I just—"

"I will not stalk Harry Potter for some stupid report! Why couldn't Liz do it? She doesn't look very ill to me! What's the story, Dan. You're a reporter, you're good at giving the scoop. What's going on?" Dan looked extremely apprehensive as he carefully chose his words.

"Well…You see, I really wanted a reporter to get close to Potter. I mean really close. And Liz…just can't do that." Draco's brain worked furiously as he tried to translate Dan's sleazy words. His jaw dropped in surprise.

"You want me to seduce him?" he demanded. Dan cringed.

"No, just…date him…" Draco nearly exploded with fury.

"WHAT!" he shrieked. Dan took a deep breath.

"You're my only gay reporter besides Teddy, and really, no one would date Teddy! Especially not Harry Potter! You're a young, attractive male! Besides, the old school rivalry would give you some…chemistry," he said nervously. Draco's silver eyes flashed dangerously.

"No."

Dan's eyebrows raised and his face grew stony. "We have a contract, Mr. Malfoy," he said coolly. "You agreed that you would do any assignment I gave you. You are legally obliged." Draco winced. He'd agreed to it because, as a Malfoy, and the son of Lord Voldemort's right hand man, Draco had had the hardest time finding someone to actually give him a job.

"I hate you," Draco said finally, and Disapparated.