Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
A/N: This isn't properly British.
Severus understands why Potter and Black don't like him. He even understands why Pettigrew doesn't like him. What he doesn't understand is why they think he's stupid. He has no delusions about their 'perfect picnic spot,' which they announced rather loudly. He's very aware that they're there to spy on him, despite Remus' clear orders that they shouldn't.
"Are they bothering you?" Remus asks when he catches Severus staring.
Severus quickly whips his head back around and hisses plainly, "No."
Remus frowns. Severus is a talented Legilimens, but apparently Remus doesn't need that to read him. After a minute, he mumbles, "Sorry."
Severus shakes his head and growls harsher than he means to, "It's not your fault."
"It is," Remus insists. His eyebrows are knit together, and Severus hates himself for thinking of how cute Remus looks when he's worried. "They're my friends, and I think we both know their 'picnic' is no coincidence. I mean... at least they're far enough back that they probably can't hear us, but..." He shakes his head. "Look, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Severus repeats, and he means it. He got over blaming Remus for his friends' many, many issues ago. (Even the wolf incident which, as mortifying and horrendous as it was, was really Black's fault. And maybe Potter's, though he denies it.) If Severus hadn't forgiven Remus, they'd both be failing Potions, as they've been paired up and aren't allowed to hand in separate work. When Severus first realized he'd be paired with Remus he was borderline ecstatic. (Well, for himself, anyway.) Severus is brilliant at the subject alone, and Remus is the only one in the class who doesn't resent him for it, and Remus calmly and obediently follows his lead. Remus is intelligent in his own right, and reliable, and timely with his homework. He's easily the best partner Severus' could've asked for—certainly better than Pettigrew, who he somehow ended up with last year.
He can only imagine how Remus felt upon their pairing, but can guess it wasn't similar. Remus probably spent the night scowling and enduring either pity or teasing from Potter and Black. When they first started, Remus was much quieter than he is now, and then he was just 'Lupin.' Remus hasn't called him 'Snape' once, and more importantly, hasn't called him 'Snivellus,' although Potter and Black have doubled up on picking on him after their brief lapse following 'the incident.' Severus only survives the constant bullying by reminding himself that he's won, in a way: he gets plenty of private Remus-time now, and he can clearly see that it bothers them to no end.
Severus is no angel. He plays on this as he leans over Remus' scroll, purposely too close, muttering, "That's spelled with an 'e'." They're sitting knee-to-knee between two trees on the edge of the forest, facing each other with their books in their laps. Remus is jotting down notes and Severus is doing research for an essay and, technically, they don't have to be together for either of those things. Remus didn't protest when Severus asked to study together, and Severus is still a little shocked over it.
Remus looks up and smiles. "Thank you." Severus leans back to his own tree with a smirk. When Remus looks down again, Severus turns to look at the picnic blanket a couple dozen meters away. Black is glaring at him heatedly and nudges Potter, and then Potter looks up and joins in. Severus sneers nastily, and Remus mutters, "Severus?"
Severus snaps his head around as though he wasn't looking.
Remus grins coyly and mumbles, "I don't know what they're trying to see from over there."
"Me stabbing you," Severus quips. Remus laughs warmly, and the pleasant sound makes Severus stiffen and turn a bit pink. Remus has a beautiful laugh, like he has a beautiful everything. He's a glowing ball of pleasantness that Severus has no right to be around, and that thought makes him scowl. He shouldn't think that and has no idea why he does. He knows what's underneath.
As usual, Remus doesn't seem at all deterred by his depressing demeanor. "Or maybe you kissing me," he says smoothly. When Severus' black eyes go wide as saucers, Remus adds, "Or me kissing you?"
Severus opens his mouth to retort but finds his mouth too dry. It takes him a minute to mutter, "I don't think any of us suffer from that delusion."
Remus' smile could light up the dark. As soon as he leans forward, Severus goes stiff as a stone. His eyes squeeze shut automatically, for no particular reason, and he feels a soft peck land on his nose. When Severus creaks his eyes back open, Remus is hovering a centimeter away, and he purrs, "Have I ever told you how much I like your nose?"
Severus mutters thickly without thinking, "Have I ever told you you're insane?"
Remus laughs again and says happily, "Of course, I rather love your wit, too." And he leans forward again to peck Severus on the forehead—this time Severus' eyes stay open, going cross-eyed. This seriously cannot be happening to him. Logically, he's dozed off at some point, and is now conjuring the beginnings of the best sort of wet dream—the kind that involves Remus able to stomach him. He's supposed to be mired in resentment, not... this.
Severus doesn't grab Remus and shove his tongue down Remus' throat like he wants to, because there's a crowd of other Gryffindors within eyeshot that are going to absolutely murder him. Instead he mumbles, "Thanks," and then turns a bright red, feeling inordinately stupid.
Remus simply chirps, "No problem," and settles back to finish his notes.
Severus spends the next thirty minutes pretending to read and methodically flipping the pages, whilst stewing in conflicted inner turmoil, giddy daydreams and warmth.
At the end of it, they have to go back to the castle, because it's getting dark, and Remus asks almost tentatively, "Can I walk you?"