Severus grinned at the ticklish nuzzletug of Al's drowsy exploration of his new goatee. "Stop nibbling," he chuckled, "or I'll think you're working on your very own bezoar."
In response to a wordless charm, his turban unravelled itself, releasing heavy skeins of black hair. In response to the hair-growing potion he'd taken to grow the goatee, his hair now reached past his waist, draping his torso like a cloak.
He shrugged out of the robes with a rustle of raw silk, letting them pool on the bed, deep emerald green and a black only a few shades darker than the midnight-blue duvet.
Kicking off the curly slippers, he stretched out with a crack of bone from his spine. "And to think that most people seem to believe parties are fun!"
He smirked lazily up at Al. "When as far as I'm concerned, there's far more fun to be had at home!"