Chapter Two

A/N: Thanks bunches to all my reviews! Even to the one that was kinda nasty... I agree, Voldemort doesn't really have hair, but he probably won't win the war either. Use your imagination, mkay?

Severus never failed to be amazed when he entered the Dark Lord's dressing room. Originally a very nice walk-in closet, the room had been expanded to include rows and rows of clothes, shoes, and accessories, three body-length mirrors, an ornate dressing table, and in one corner, Voldemort's own personal nail salon.

Voldemort was prancing in front of his mirrors, wearing stunning robes of silver silk. The material was so fine that it seemed to be made of water. His equally silky hair cascaded over his shoulders and swept through the air whenever he turned. Over a cushy chair were several more robes. One was blood red, another sky blue, and the last a simple but elegant black. At the sound of the door, Voldemort struck a pose for a rather bemused Severus.

"How do I look?" Voldemort asked, twirling around, so the robe caught the air and billowed out.

"Um, you look... absolutely ravishing, My Lord," Severus managed, wishing he was still in his dungeon.

Voldemort turned back to the mirrors, "Yes. I do, of course. But..." He picked up the red robe, "Perhaps I would look better in this one. It matches my eyes.What do you think?"

Severus felt like a trapped rat, "I'm sure you will look stunning in whatever you choose."

Voldemort sighed, "Severus, I will not be angry with you if you truthfully tell me if one of these is better on me than the other. I need to know your honest opinion. Lucious Malfoy and his son are coming for dinner tonight, along with a load of my Death Eaters, and I need to outshine them all. I will anyway, of course, but I want to do it by a lot." He had the expression commonly seen on six year olds who are competing for the largest candy haul on Halloween.

"My Lord, I'm not the best person to choose for fashion advice."

Voldemort frowned slightly, "Well, I suppose I cannot argue with that," He swept over and began plucking at Severus' robes, "You always wear the same old black, drab things. The black would be nice, of course, but nothing shaped like a potato sack is good." Voldemort pushed a reluctant Severus over to the mirrors, "Now, if the robes were tighter fitting at the shoulders, maybe showing off more of your figure, then a gentle widening all the way to the ground..."

Clapping his hands twice, the House Elf from before reappeared. He bowed very low, his long nose brushing the floor, "What you do wish, My Master?"

Voldemort tossed the black robe to Severus, "Put this on. Binky will see that it is properly fitted."

"But-I-but..."

Ignoring Severus' stuttered protests, Voldemort swept over to the room's oak doors. "No buts," Voldemort said with a childish giggle, "You will look pretty tonight, for once in your life. Oh, and before I leave," He moved to a cabinet and rummaged among several bottles before pulling out one filled with a clear goo, "Wash your hair with this before you show up. Really, Severus, you make such wonderful shampoo, I don't understand why you never seem to use it yourself."

Severus winced, "You are indeed generous, My Lord, but the newest batch was ruined today because Draco Malfoy is an incompetent, distracted temp. It will be two weeks before more can be completed."

Voldemort laughed, "Sevy, I have a large supply in case of emergencies. Don't worry about it, and just concentrate on looking nice tonight."

The bang of the closing doors behind Voldemort's back seemed, to Severus, to be his death sentence.

Later...

Severus stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waste. He wiped the steam off the mirror and began combing his wet locks. The shampoo had seemed to work. His normally lank hair seemed much more soft and smooth, even while wet. Alright. The stuff is good. I'll have to keep some for myself from now on.

Severus then moved from his bathroom to his bedroom where the black robe was neatly lying on his bed, nearly indistinguishable from his black blankets. He slipped in on. He had to admit, the silk was nice, and Severus supposed it wasn't entirely wrong to pamper himself once in awhile. I think, thought Severus, I could sleep in something like this. Hmm... black silk jammies...

jerks out of Severus Black Silk Jammy fantasy Review, please!