Hello reader! Glad you clicked on this story, for the ghost-writer plot I took inspiration from the series Bojack Horseman, but other than that this story is going to be very different from the show.

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything.

Scorpius and I had never been particularly close.

During Hogwarts the only thing we had in common was the fact that we both had famous last names. His initially worked to his disadvantage, but he managed to pick up his reputation by making captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, and thanks to his good looks that made it difficult for him to be excluded or disliked.

I wouldn't say that I hated him, but I surely did not like him. He had this arrogant way of presenting himself that I despised, as if you had to prove yourself worthy of his attention.

Though I would have considered him as more or less popular, he had few friends. There was Celeste from Hufflepuff, a petite but full of energy blonde, that was the life of every party at Hogwarts, though at the end of the night you would often find her drunk crying on the shoulder of one of her closest friend: Adrian. Adrian too was a Hufflepuff and probably the nicest person to ever step foot in Hogwarts; and also if you ever wanted to get baked, he was the person to go to. The last, but certainly not least, member of Scorpius' close group of friends was Julian. Like Scorpius, Julian had been sorted in Slytherin, and the pair had been practically inseparable since childhood.

Adrian and I shared a couple of classes and would have the occasional small talk at parties and a couple of times I had shared a drunken dance with Celeste, but we weren't friends, we hardly knew each other, and we didn't keep in touch after Hogwarts.

I thought that that chapter of my life had ended. That I would hardly ever see them and least of all, Scorpius, again. But boy was I wrong.

"I'm sorry what?" I asked.

"Don't look at me like that Rose, this is a fantastic opportunity!" Zoe insisted and seemed to genuinely believe it; that of course made it ten times more difficult for me to say anything too harsh. I guess that's why people always warned me that having a friend as your agent wasn't the best idea.

"I'm already struggling to be taken seriously in this business, at the very least I want to write something that actually belongs to me." I objected.

"Rose, I love your passion, I really do, but you haven't written anything for over a year. Plus, you're only twenty-five, you have plenty of time ahead of you to write your Pulitzer winning novel. Trust me, you need this, we both need this."

She was leaning on her chair, studying my reaction to see if her little speech had been convincing enough or if she would have to unleash the "you are too broke to refuse this" card.

I sighed. Zoe sure knew what to say.

"Fine, I'll do it."

She squealed. "You will not regret this!" She exclaimed as she got out of her seat to hug me.

I mumbled an unconvinced "Sure."

"There are so many things to organize!" she began as she slowly paced through her office, "first things first, you must know that being a ghost-writer isn't as trivial as it may seem."

"Scorpius has made quite a name for himself in the acting community, but he is bland. Magazines and blogs often write him off as this stereotypical mysterious bad boy, but what I think you should do is give him a bit of a softer edge, make the audience connect with him more." She continued.

"We are still talking about Scorpius Malfoy, right? The guy that has as much depth as a children's swimming pool?" I commented.

"Oh ha-ha Rose, very funny. Didn't your mother ever teach you never to judge a book by it's cover? And even if he is as shallow as you say, I'm sure a writer of your caliber can pull off exaggerating a quality or two."

"Or three or four." I added.

"Sure." Zoe said rolling her eyes. "But, as I was saying, this will take some effort. Scorpius' manager wants one-on-one interviews and you will be following Scorpius to certain events. I'm guessing we can organize the first interview this week." She paused. "I know this isn't the big break you've always wanted, but it just might be a step in the right direction, so I beg you, do not blow this."

"I'll try my best." I promised, swallowing my pride.

I entered my flat and let the door close behind me. On the table Lily had left a note saying she would come home late so there was no need to wait for her for dinner. We had been living together for about seven months, and except for the occasional argument, we got along quite nicely. Since she had gotten together with her girlfriend Sara, we sort of cut down on the parties, which to be completely honest, I didn't really mind. I felt like I needed time to recharge, especially in moments of personal crisis, much like this one.

Was I selling out?

I'd always known that I wanted to be a successful writer since mum had bought me my first notebook. However, writing a book about someone I didn't really like and not even having my name put on it, felt sort of… unethical, as if I was betraying myself.

Suddenly the spacious living room felt constricting, and my favourite position, on the brown couch next to the window overlooking the busy streets of London, became uncomfortable.

Then again, it's not like I had much choice. Zoe was right: I needed this, I needed the money and I needed to get out of my writer's block. Besides, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

I still remembered the day I met Scorpius.

Dad had pointed him out on the platform and had involuntarily spiked my attention. So, in the first class we shared, I hatched the plan to not sit next to Amelia, one of my closest friends, but to instead take a seat next to him, in an attempt to get a conversation going.

So, I gathered up my courage and made my way towards him. I hadn't even opened my mouth to ask him if the seat was taken that he readily remarked "My friend is sitting here."

It wasn't the words themselves that hurt my feelings, but the way he said it. As if I was a fool to think that he would prefer sitting next me than his friend. He didn't even spare me a second glance.

It was a stupid and insignificant phrase, but eleven-year-old me was left with a feeling of rejection.

Hope you enjoyed! Leave me a review to tell me what you think and if you can check out Bojack Horseman!

P.S. constructive criticism is always appreciated.