Hi again! I'm still super excited about all the favorites I've got. :3 Thank you so much! As promised, here is a longer chapter. I hope you like it, since it's more open and full of feelings than the previous 2. Please review and tell me what you think - something I should add? Something I should leave out? Thanks!

I was restless and impatient. I wanted an answer from D.M, and I wanted it know. My longing for his response was a bit uncomfortable – how could I feel so attached with a stranger I knew nothing about, after just one day? I couldn't seem to find the answer, nor did I want to. It didn't matter – all I knew was that something was dragging me in his direction, and I quite enjoyed it.

Though, my courage began to sink the following day. It was the second day of classes on Hogwarts, and I hadn't received an answer – but then it hit me. Maybe he hadn't found the letter? Or maybe he had, but thought that I was being stupid again, since I kept writing to a stranger on a ridiculous piece of parchment.
Feeling rather bitter I left Transfiguration class and began walking towards the Gryffindor common room. But suddenly something caught my eye … A piece of parchment, lying on the floor, with my handwriting faced upwards. I took a deep breath and stopped, leaving both Ron and Harry confused.
"Hermione, aren't you..?" Harry began, but I cut him off. "No, you just go ahead. I have to check something." Harry and Ron shortly looked at eachother with a sceptical glance, so I added: "I, uhm, forgot my quill in the classroom." They didn't look convinced, but they left the corridor as well as the other students, leaving me alone with the letter – which was all I needed.
I quickly sat down squatting and turned to the back of the parchment. Truly enough, he had written something – a rather short, but useful message. I knew exactly where to put the next letter now, which made me feel not so useless. Just the fact that he wanted me to respond made me feel longed and appreciated. He actually wanted to write with me again.

Later that night I sat in the common room once again, in the same chair with a new piece of parchment lying in front of me.
"What's going on?" Harry asked. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that he somehow knew something was going on, but I decided to put on my best pokerface – just in case...
"What do you mean, what's going on?" I asked, and accidently snapped a bit after him.
"Well, you keep writing those … what, letters? And you always say there's something you have to check," he told me, looking a bit offended.
"It's … the owlery," I said, thinking as fast as I could to come up with some sort of genious lie. "Mum and dad just found out how to use the owls. They're very curious," I finished and nodded, as if I could force truth into my words.
"O...kay," Harry said and returned, rather worried, to his conversation with Ron. Probably about Quidditch again – I didn't know, I wasn't listening. I only focused on the new piece of parchment right now.

Dear D.M.
What a brilliant idea! I certainly understand that it was hard for you to find the previous letter. I didn't think it through, but I didn't really expect anyone to continue answering me. Don't get me wrong, I am very surprised – in a positive way.
Guess you want to know more about me now, huh? Well, I must admit that my life doesn't involve neither Azkaban nor dementors. I am somewhat just living an average life with average parents – they're Muggles.
I know there's a lot of people who has something against them, but I don't really see the point. It's not their fault, neither is it mine that I obviously found out I could handle magic. Though, I am truly happy that I can – it is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Hogwarts has always felt like my home, but now I'm not so sure anymore. It must be the problem with my friends again – it really bothers me... They're beginning to ask about these letters – but I told them that it's my parents that just found out how to use owls. I hope it's okay with you, because I think we should keep these letters a secret, somehow. I still don't know what to think about it – me, writing with a total stranger. I guess I enjoy it, but I can't help but wonder who you are.
Which house are you in? And which year? I, myself, am on my sixth year. It is sad to think about it, really – soon it's all over. I know I won't loose my magic when I graduate, but I feel like everyone at Hogwarts is a part of a family, a society. I don't know what I'm gonna do when I can't be around all these wonderful people everyday. I fear that I will feel like … like the magic's lost.
What are your thoughts? What do you think about the school?
I am absolutely dying to get some more information. Please respond – as fast as possible!
With the hope of all being well,

H.G.

When I finished writing, I took a look at Harry and Ron. They were still discussing something. I stood up, took the letter and left the common room. As eager as I was for his respond, I went to the seventh floor and hid the letter behind the statue of the gargoyle, just as he wanted me to do. Hopefully he would come look for it soon enough. With a slight smile on my lips I left, with a bubbling feeling inside of me...

It was dawn – the sun had first gone up a few minutes ago, yet I was fully dressed and awake. I found it hard to sleep these days, because of my new penpal. Who was she? Did I know her?
I wondered if she had already written a new letter. She seemed very thoughtful, and I had the impression that she had much on her mind. Maybe she was so desperate for a friend that she had responded last night?
I couldn't help but go see if she had. I left the Slytherin common room and began walking towards the seventh floor. The journey was rather long, and my steps echoed in the lonely corridors. I enjoyed the silence, yet it was like my heart overwhelmed it when I saw the gargoyle. I stopped for a brief moment, wondering if this was a good idea – continuing all this writing... Wasn't it a bit childish? I frowned and thought about it for a minute or two. Yes, it wasn't that mature, but I felt dragged towards her, and of what I knew, she too felt dragged towards me. The feeling of someone actually being curious and worried about how I was made me feel loved, which was a strange feeling. I didn't recognize it, but before I gave that thought more attention I went over to the statue and saw a letter. I quickly grabbed it, unfolded it and began reading it.
"I am somewhat just living an average life with average parents – they're Muggles."
I stopped reading for a moment, taking a deep breath. I cruised the next line: "People has something against them...don't really see the point... Not their fault..."
I tried to stay as neutral as possible, but I felt like something inside me had been shattered. Muggles. The person I thought shared the same problems as me was a Mudblood. I tried to let me convince with her arguments saying it's not their fault, but it didn't help. I quickly, uninterested kept reading. She was writing something about Hogwarts being her home... Something about 'wonderful people'. I couldn't help but snort. Wonderful people? Yeah, right, people unlike them all.
When I reached the line where she asked which house I was in I stopped reading again. I had absolutely no intention of revealing myself – after all, how many D.M.'s could there possibly be in the Slytherin house?
I tried to think of a way to avoid the question. Thinking madly I left the floor with the letter in my pocket.

Later that night, after I had been feeling a lot of inmotivation about responding the letter, I sat on my bed and read it again. I was alone in the dormitory, which gave me all the freedom I wanted to answer. And I certainly took my time. I thought about every word I used, and when I was done I read it to myself.

Dear H.G.
Woah, you're parents are Muggles. Didn't see that coming. I'm afraid that I'm one of those persons that has something against them, but what can I say? It's not my fault. I was raised that way, avoiding Muggles the best I could, learning to disrespect them in every aspect.
I can see where you're going, but I can't share your point of view. I'm sorry, but it's just not a part of my nature. Though, I'm trying to stay as neutral as I can. I really like you, and I'm trying my best to put an effort into this thing we've started.
You say that you want to keep this a secret. Me too. I wouldn't like the idea of all my friends finding out that I've been writing with a Mud... stranger. I think they'd have a harder time staying neutral than I have.
As for Hogwarts, I'm afraid that we once again have different meanings. I sort of see this place as a prison, like a torture. The class I like the best is Defence Against the Dark Arts – it prepares us for the real stuff that's going on out there. Outside these walls. It's like they're keeping us inside this safe bubble, without letting us know that there are danger closer than we think. I grew up with danger. Dark magic has been a part of my life, but I have certainly not enjoyed it. I've hated it to bits. I've felt like I wanted to scream at my parents, run away from it all, hide myself from the world …
I'm trying to hide everything. Noone here knows how I really am. On the inside. The only one who perhaps have a clue is … you.
And because of all these things I've been through, I'd like to keep myself anonymous. I'm not comfortable with telling you who I am … yet.
Perhaps someday. You make me want to tell you the truth about my life. About me. You make me want to respect Muggles. And most importantly, you make me feel … appreciated.
Thinking of you,
D.M.

With a sigh I put the letter under my bed. Noone could ever know about this. It was hard enough for me to express myself on paper – facing it was even harder. And I didn't plan on doing so.
All I had in mind was that I would leave this letter behind the gargoyle as soon as the chance appeared.