DISCLAIMER: Fanfiction, and thus, not mine.
It was nearly 10 o'clock by the time Snape had finally decided on an outfit. Secretly, a part of him had desired to be adventurous, but his more sensible side had won out in the end and he chose his usual black on black ensemble. Voldemort was waiting for him in the front hall of the Death Eater's Only Cottage and grimaced when he saw Snape's traditional wizarding attire.
"Sev, can I call you Sev? Well I'm going to..." He continued despite Snape's contorted facial expression, "I cannot allow you to leave the cottage in that, I simply can't!"
"And what, pray tell, is wrong with this attire?" Responded Snape, feigning all the interest he could fake.
"Sev, I am the most hated man in the wizarding world... You're none to popular yourself... Neither of us are going to pick up any chicks if we waltz into the Leaky Caldron... No tonight we will be targeting a different audience..." He cackled the last bit almost maniacally while grabbing Snape by the wrist and apparating him directly into a toilet stall of what was clearly not a magical establishment. He also took the liberty of redressing Snape in what he deemed was a more appropriate fashion.
The two men materialized inside the stall Snape balancing awkwardly on the back of the toilet and Voldemort, toilet between his spread legs and Snape's crotch uncomfortably close to his face.
"I... Am so... Excited!" The dark lord squealed, seemingly oblivious to their absurd situation.
Someone outside the stall, evidently not a fan of their adventure either retorted snidely, "Get a room!" As he exited the lavatory.
Snape was about to loose his temper on not only Lord Voldemort, but also on this new interloper, when suddenly he was over come with a feeling that perhaps his private area, and whole bottom half for that matter, was in a trash compactor and his chest was strangely breezy as if he were no longer wearing a shirt.
"What have you done!?" He seethed flying out of the stall and coming face to face with his reflection in the mirror. He barely recognized himself. Voldemort had completely de-robed him and redressed him in skin tight leather pants with a uniquely patterned shirt that was open almost to his waist.
"I know, right?" Voldemort followed him out in his jeans and pink blazer, "Ooooooooh we need to check in!" He sighed cheerfully as he checked his muggle watch, "My sources tell me this is all the rage for meeting new people fast! They call it... speed dating!"