They were in the woods this time. Behind them, through the trees, Severus could glimpse the hill from his first visit. They had been walking together for some time, though neither had yet to speak. Despite the grim shadows that had been cast, the forest was bright with rays of sunlight breaking through the branches overhead.

"Do you believe in love, Potter?"

Severus hadn't expected to ask that, and he expected the laughter that followed even less.

"Love?" Potter chuckled. "Not in the least."

This angered Severus, but he put a lid on his bubbling rage. What was all this for if Potter didn't even believe that there was someone to cure his curse?

"Then what do you believe in?" Severus demanded in an insulted growl.

Potter glanced at him, his laughter tapering off. "Um…I'm not sure. I suppose…a kiss."

Despite their circumstance, Severus found himself confused. "A kiss?" He repeated.

"Yeah," The Gryffindor said, growing serious and pensive. "The earth-shattering kind that turns you on your head. Love comes and goes, you can fall in and out almost at will. But a kiss, the right kiss from the right person, it-it haunts you. It tears you apart inside until you can think of nothing else. Every kiss before it pales, and every kiss after feels wrong. The kind of kiss that every author tries to give word to, and every actor tries to portray. An improbable kiss."

"Improbable?"

"It would have to be." Potter said cryptically. "Otherwise, it wouldn't be special."

Severus frowned. "Isn't that just another sort of love?"

A shrug. "I dunno," Potter said softly, picking a leaf off a tree as they passed. "I'll tell you once I've had one."