Chapter Text
Severus sat in his suite in the dungeon, a tumbler of scotch in hand, ranking letter on his lap. It was the evening before matching day and as usual, Severus was having an internal battle of emotions. At 33 years of age, Severus was now much older than those receiving results and matches. Severus could not decide whether it was better to get a match this year or to continue matchless, as he had done since he was 17.
It had been a shock for Severus on Matchday in his 6th year at Hogwarts to receive a letter reading,
‘Dear Severus Snape, we regret to inform you that due to the unique nature of your scoring no match was found for you.
You have scored 96 which has not occurred in over 50 years. We hope that a match can be found for you in the near future.
Bertha Novice,
Department of magical identification and matching.’
Had been over a decade ago and still, no match had been found for Severus. With it being common knowledge that a score over 70 was rare, Severus was not surprised at the lack of a match, even after all this time.
Severus was broken out of his musings by a knock on the door. Placing the letter on the table in front of him, he strolled to the door. Standing on the other side of the door was Minerva McGonagall. Stepping aside the dark-haired man let her inside, where she made herself comfortable in her usual chair.
“So, Severus, I see that you are worried about matching”, she stated, pointedly looking at his magic ranking letter. The letter was abruptly snatched off the table and placed face down on Severus’ lap. “I don’t know why you will not let the staff know your magical score; we all know its high so you may as well tell us.
Severus looked pained for a second before spitting out the truth, “I scored 96, ok.”
Minerva was taken aback shock clearly on her face, “Merlin, I knew it was high, but 96, wow. I can see why you have had no success finding a match.”
==========================================================================================
Later that evening in bed, Severus sat, propped against his pillow thinking about the possibilities that may come about from tomorrow.