The mothers shared a knowing smile. Their children were too young to consider the future, but it was so innocent and sweet that they were almost envious. They each had the rest of their lives ahead of them to look forward to. Some days Hermione had the sinking feeling that she had more to look back on than she did to look forward to. It was a macabre thought that she always tried to instantly suppress. What was the point in continuing to live if she insisted on being so depressing?