It had been late when he returned home the night before. Hermione had fallen asleep on the sofa and woken up sometime after midnight to drag her feet to bed only to find it still empty. It was partly why she let him sleep in on the weekends like this. That, and the fact that she loved to watch him enter the room with his hair all ruffled from sleep and his pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips. It was perhaps one of her favourite looks on him. When he didn't have to perform to be someone else the rest of the world expected him to be. Reformed Death Eater. Anti-Hero of the War. Prestigious Auror. Pure-Blood Heir.